Courtyard House: Time Traveler Not Yet a Ghost

Just past midnight, Ling Yun, inside the Taiji Jade Tablet, opened his eyes. His spirit body had been tempered in the Yin-Yang Space all day, and the burning pain of being rejected by the world had finally subsided. He hovered in mid-air, condensing wisps of green smoke from his fingertips—he could now barely cast the basic Daoist technique, [Yin Travel Technique].

"The gates of hell are open, time to get to work."

The instant the spirit passed through the jade pendant's barrier, the invisible chains tightened abruptly. Ling Yun staggered to regain his footing, finding himself firmly pinned to within 80 meters of Xiao Yuzhu. His spiritual sense swept across the gray tiles of the courtyard house, and he gritted his teeth: "The system ran away, leaving behind this damn restriction. Does it really think I'm just a pawn of the chosen one?"

On a winter night in Beiping in 1940, the cold wind whipped up coal dust and lashed the streets. Ling Yun shrank his nonexistent neck, his spirit shivering from the cold. He floated to the stone lion on the doorstep and squatted down, like an unburnt shadow puppet, staring longingly at the alley entrance—80 meters, his current hunting radius.

The patrol's leather boots thundered past three times from a hundred meters away. Amidst the muffled thuds of thirteen pairs of military boots crunching through the snow, Ling Yun attempted to possess a body thirteen times. Each time, just as his spirit touched the back of a Japanese soldier's neck, it was repelled by the moonlight reflected off the brass buckles of the boots.

"My soul strength isn't enough..." He spat out a puff of white breath, watching the last Japanese soldier disappear at the end of the alley, his spirit gradually becoming transparent. Two more hours until the rooster crows and it's time to wrap up work. Is being a ghost after transmigrating into this world so frustrating, even killing a Japanese soldier?

Suddenly, staggering footsteps echoed down the stone path. Two dark figures, arm in arm, stumbled into view, their stench of alcohol making Lingyun's spirit tremble even from thirty meters away.

"Ronin?"

Ling Yun's pupils contracted sharply. Two men in kimonos swayed towards him with zigzag steps, the katana at their waists clanging softly. When the distance closed to 81 meters, he suddenly sprang up—this time they weren't patrolmen, but two drunken bastards!

The spirit transformed into wisps of green smoke and shot towards the nearest ronin. The instant Makino Yoshida let out a burp, Ling Yun's consciousness flooded into his brain like a tidal wave.

"Baka..." The ronin uttered half a sentence of nonsense, his body suddenly stiffening.

The instant Ling Yun took control of his limbs, his left hand swiftly grabbed his companion by the back of the collar. The thought had barely formed when the two of them plunged into the Taiji Yin-Yang space. A dark purple Soul Refining Banner appeared out of thin air, two wisps of gray mist hanging from its surface, binding the Japanese soldier's head.

"smoke!"

A piercing scream was swallowed by the spatial barrier. The two wisps of black mist tumbled within the banner for less than half a breath before transforming into shimmering white light points and merging into Lingyun's spirit body. He touched his burning brow, and his spiritual sense suddenly expanded outward—160 meters! Half the restriction had been lifted!

"Throw the living dead out; they'll freeze solid, just like someone who died drunk." He dragged the two limp bodies back to their original positions, the snow clinging to the hem of his kimono quickly freezing in the cold night. Just as he finished doing all this, the first rooster crowed from the alley entrance.

Within the Taiji Space, the Soul Refining Banner was pushing two bowl-sized balls of white light toward Ling Yun. He opened his mouth and swallowed the energy balls, his spirit body crackling as it condensed into the outline of semi-transparent fingers.

"Makino Yoshida... Honda Tano..." Ling Yun licked his non-existent lips and looked towards Nanluoguxiang in the distance. "Tomorrow, it's time to take down a patrol point."

On the Yin side of the Taiji Space, Ling Yun watched the two wisps of white energy rising from his palm. It only took three breaths to refine the souls of the two Japanese soldiers, but the pure energy was half less than expected—the dark, resentful impurities had all been burned into green smoke by the Soul Refining Banner.

"Looks like I'll have to target the officers." He flicked the Soul Refining Banner with his finger, and the hundred ghost patterns on the banner seemed clearer. The energy absorbed last night circulated within his spirit body, and the originally blurry outlines of his limbs gradually solidified, even the sound of his footsteps floating in mid-air became lighter.

At the second quarter of midnight, Ling Yun once again broke through the jade tablet barrier. This time, the chains only tightened slightly when his spirit body reached the alley entrance—the 160-meter control range was just enough to touch the north entrance of Nanluoguxiang. The cold wind whipped snowflakes against his face, but he felt no chill at all. A layer of pale golden light covered the surface of his spirit body, which was pure energy protecting him.

"Dong, dong," the Western clock across the street struck twice. Ling Yun floated along the wall to the old locust tree where the patrol team often rested, the Soul Refining Banner hidden in his sleeve and held loosely. Three hours ago, he used his spiritual sense to figure out the shift change pattern of this group of Japanese soldiers: they would take shelter from the cold under the eaves of the coal shop at three-quarters of the hour of Chou (1-3 AM).

The sound of boots crunching through the snow grew louder as they approached. Ling Yun shrank into the shadows against the wall, watching five figures wrapped in yellow woolen overcoats turn into the alleyway. The sergeant leading the group carried a Type 14 Nambu armor slung over his shoulder, a gilded command sword hanging at his waist—he was a lieutenant.

When the Japanese troops were about eight zhang away from the locust tree, Ling Yun suddenly moved. His spirit transformed into a golden ray of light that shot straight at the lieutenant's back, and at the same time, he unleashed the Soul Refining Banner. This time he had learned his lesson; he first used the [Yin Travel Technique] to paralyze the opponent's senses before forcibly seizing their body.

"Hashimoto! Why the hell did you bump into me?!" The sergeant stumbled and crashed into a pile of coal. The private next to him had just uttered a curse when Lieutenant Hashimoto grabbed him by the neck. Ling Yun controlled his body and grabbed the other two Japanese soldiers. In the blink of an eye, the three of them had fallen into the Tai Chi space.

The Soul-Refining Banner transformed into three gray chains that wrapped around his head, twice as fast as last night! The lieutenant's soul had barely surfaced when it was swallowed by the banner, his scream lasting less than half a second. Ling Yun pulled out a pocket watch from the Japanese soldier's waist; on the inside of the watch cover was a faded family photo—a woman holding a little girl in a kimono, her smile jarring.

"Keep them as evidence when you collect the corpses." He sneered, dragging the three undead back to the coal pile. Just as he planted the sergeant's sword in the snow to feign drunkenness, a series of chaotic footsteps suddenly came from the end of the alley.

"Why isn't the Hashimoto squad responding yet?" As the flashlight beam swept across, Ling Yun had already floated back inside the courtyard. He peered through the crack in the door and saw six military police officers in black uniforms stabbing a corpse in the snow with bayonets.

"Sergeant Major! It's Lieutenant Hashimoto and the others... frozen solid!"

"Baka! Take the body back to headquarters!" The military police captain kicked the sergeant's stiff arm. "Notify the forensic doctor to perform an autopsy. This is the third case of someone freezing to death this month!"

As Ling Yun retreated into the Taiji Space, the sky was just beginning to lighten. Three wisps of white vapor, each the size of a bowl, floated on the Yin-Yang surface, a full size larger than the two from the previous night. He opened his mouth and swallowed the lieutenant's soul energy, and the spirit body suddenly emitted a crisp "crack"—a pale blue finger bone materialized on his translucent palm.

"Control the distance... 320 meters." Ling Yun clenched his fist, his knuckles making a clear, ringing sound. The Soul Refining Banner trembled slightly in his palm, and three tiny blood beads, the size of rice grains, appeared on the chains hanging from the corners of the banner.