Courtyard House: Time Traveler Not Yet a Ghost

The end of midnight and the beginning of dawn.

The pale golden soul, like a night owl returning to its nest, silently slipped through the half-open wooden window of the east wing of No. 95 Nanluoguxiang courtyard, gracefully disappearing into the body sitting cross-legged on the kang (heated brick bed). He Damin slowly opened his eyes, a trace of unfulfilled, cold sharpness lingering in them, quickly replaced by his usual calm. Outside the window, a faint, fish-belly white had appeared on the eastern horizon, outlining the gray-blue roof tiles of the courtyard house from the haze, and the first rooster crow could be faintly heard in the distance.

A night of searching yielded no results.

His original plan was to return to Beijing from the Fengtai military camp and then use the remaining time that night to strike at the heart of the enemy's lair. He intended to take advantage of the Soul Refining Banner's enhanced power after its third advancement, with its soul's activity range expanding to 72 kilometers, to eliminate the "Oriental Witch" Yoshiko Kawashima, who was lurking in the heart of the Japanese forces in North China, secretly investigating the "Fengtai paranormal events" like a venomous snake. Eliminating this sharp-witted and cunning potential enemy beforehand would not only prevent future troubles but also allow the Soul Refining Banner to feast on high-quality "soul food."

However, it is counterproductive.

His soul body practically turned the North China Area Army Headquarters and its surrounding affiliated institutions, officers' quarters, and even several known high-ranking Japanese clubs and intelligence outposts within the city upside down. His spiritual sense, like the most sophisticated radar, swept through every corner, capturing every unusual soul fluctuation. He "saw" the lights burning all night and the busy figures in the staff room, "heard" the ticking of the radio and the low-pitched Japanese conversations, and even sensed the auras of several low-level Japanese cultivators or priests lurking in the shadows, their soul power pitifully weak. But he didn't find that target—Kawashima Yoshiko—who was said to possess a sinister aura and whose soul light should carry a unique coldness and obsessive characteristics.

She wasn't at headquarters. This conclusion surprised He Damin slightly, but upon reflection, it made perfect sense. Kawashima Yoshiko wasn't a purely military commander; she was a spy, a head of intelligence, a "cross-dressing female spy" who navigated various factions and was accustomed to operating in the shadows. Her whereabouts were naturally unpredictable, unlike ordinary officers who remained permanently stationed in heavily guarded military camps.

"Looks like she's not working as a dancer in a song and dance troupe anymore; she's probably off becoming a concubine in some traitor's household again." He Damin leaned against the cold wall of the earthen bed, his mind flashing through fragmented memories of Yoshiko Kawashima from his past life. This woman was adept at using various identities to disguise herself, from a Qing Dynasty princess to an adopted Japanese daughter, from a spy to a "commander," and even ran a so-called "restaurant." Where would she be hiding now? In the secluded mansion of some traitorous nobleman, or in some inconspicuous secret hideout in the Japanese concession?

After his spirit failed to find the headquarters, he attempted to expand the search area further. While a radius of 72 kilometers was already quite large, more than enough to cover the entire city of Beiping and its suburbs, it was insufficient for targets far away in Tianjin or elsewhere. He could only focus his search on areas within Beiping that might be connected to Yoshiko Kawashima in historical records.

Faintly, his spiritual sense seemed to detect a faint, almost vanished, lingering gloom in a certain alleyway area in the northeast of the city (he later learned it was Dongsi Jiutiao). The aura was mixed with perfume, gunpowder smoke, and a kind of decadent resentment, distinct from that of ordinary Japanese soldiers or traitors. However, the remnant was too weak, and it seemed that no strong, similar aura had been active there for some time, making it unsuitable as a reliable clue. Other vague directions vaguely pointed towards Tianjin in the southeast.

As he strained his senses to extend southeastward along the faint glimmer of light pointing towards Tianjin, a distinct sense of stagnation and pulling arose deep within his soul. He was nearing his limit, and the golden light connecting his spirit and body began to flicker. At the same time, the invisible force of the laws of heaven and earth manifested once more—dawn was approaching, and yang energy was rising. For a soul that had not yet fully transformed into a yang god, the yang energy of daytime was like a scorching flame; prolonged exposure to it was harmful.

"Very well." He Damin decisively withdrew all his outward spiritual sense and soul power, ceasing his remote probing. He never took risks without being certain of success, especially when his very essence (body and soul) might be damaged. The matter of Kawashima Yoshiko required careful consideration; perhaps a different approach was needed, utilizing other channels to obtain more accurate information.

As dawn broke, activity began to stir in the courtyard. He Daqing's heavy cough came from the main house, followed by Lü Bingxin gently coaxing Xiao Yuzhu to get up, and the rustling sound of Yi Zhonghai sweeping the yard. The warmth of everyday life dispelled the chill and gloom of the night's lingering gloom.

He Damin rolled off the kang (a heated brick bed) and nimbly changed into his worn-out dark blue apprentice uniform. In the mirror, the young man stood tall and straight, his eyes clear and bright. No one could tell that this body carried a soul that had traversed mountains of corpses and seas of blood, wielding a ferocious soul banner. He completely calmed the slight agitation caused by the depletion of his soul power, and his eyes returned to the diligent and taciturn apprentice in the kitchen of Fengzeyuan Restaurant.

"Brother, sister-in-law, I'm off to work." After greeting everyone at the door of the main house and accepting a warm steamed bun from Lü Bingxin, He Damin disappeared into the sparse crowds of people in the streets of Beiping in the early morning.

The kitchen of Fengzeyuan was as bustling as ever. The huge stove roared with flames, the spatulas and woks clanging rhythmically, and the aroma of various ingredients mingled with the rising smoke. He Damin tied on his apron and immediately began working. Chef Wang was going to try a newly improved dish, "Stir-fried Eel Slices with Coriander," and he was responsible for processing the dozens of lively eels. This was meticulous work—deboning, slicing, marinating—requiring steady hands, careful attention, and a sharp knife. He Damin was completely focused; the thin-bladed knife in his hand seemed to come alive, his movements fluid and graceful, slicing the eel into even, translucent slices. Only when doing these physically demanding tasks requiring extreme concentration could he temporarily set aside the killings, schemes, and searches of the night, allowing his tense mind a moment of pure rest.

Around lunchtime is the busiest time at Fengzeyuan Restaurant, and also the time when all sorts of news spread the most. The waiters in the front of house and the apprentices in the back of the house would occasionally whisper a few words of the "news" they had heard when their masters weren't looking.

He Damin was carefully filtering the clear broth that had been simmering for several hours. Two old helpers responsible for washing vegetables were gathered by the pool, scrubbing the bamboo shoots while muttering to themselves in low voices.

"...Have you heard? There was quite a commotion in the area east of the Drum Tower last night."

"Is it the detectives arresting people again?"

"It doesn't seem like it. It seems... related to 'over there'." The speaker subtly gave a thumbs-up, implying the Japanese army or intelligence agencies. "My nephew works at a coal shop. He was delivering coal late at night when he saw several black-tinted cars with no license plates quietly entering a small alley. No one usually pays attention to the entrance of that alley."

"Wow, this is quite a scene... Could it be another big case, like the one in Fengtai a while back?"

"Shh! Keep your voice down! You dare to say such things that could get you killed!" The man interrupted hastily. "The matter in Fengtai is strange, I dare not mention it. But I did hear a shopkeeper who sells goods in Tianjin mention it. He said that the Japanese concession there has been quite unsettled lately. It seems that some important figures have been active frequently, and as a result, several 'high-class restaurants' have seen a surge in business. At night, they are brightly lit, and it's full of Japanese people in military uniforms and strange clothes coming and going."

Tianjin? A high-end restaurant?

He Damin paused almost imperceptibly as he filtered the broth. The faint connection his spiritual sense had detected last night, pointing towards Tianjin, subtly overlapped with the fragments of idle chatter he overheard. He remained impassive, continuing his work, but his ears absorbed every word of the conversation.

Another helper chimed in, his voice even lower: "You're not talking about... that building over in Hami Road, what's its name again?"

"Dongxinglou!" The first helper clearly knew more. "On the surface, it's a Shandong cuisine restaurant, very grand, but actually... humph, who doesn't know that it's a place where the Japanese do their dirty work? I have a distant cousin who used to work as a cook there, but he ran away after less than two months. He said it was eerie there, with people who were neither male nor female, speaking in a pretentious manner. The backyard was heavily guarded, and they wouldn't let anyone near it."

Dongxinglou. Hami Road. The Japanese Concession in Tianjin. These keywords, like pebbles thrown into a still lake, stirred ripples in He Damin's heart. His hazy memories from his past life were stirred, and fragments of information about Yoshiko Kawashima's espionage activities under the guise of a restaurant in Tianjin surfaced. If she wasn't currently stationed at the North China Command in Beiping, she was likely focusing her activities in Tianjin—a crucial hub for the North China strategy, a complex place where land and water ports intertwined with various forces.

"He Damin! Is the soup strainer ready? Master Wang is waiting to use it!" A shout interrupted his thoughts.

"That's it, Chief Li." He Damin replied, pouring the crystal-clear broth into a prepared clay pot, his expression calm as always. But in his mind, he was already making rapid calculations.

Tianjin is about 130 kilometers from Beiping, far exceeding his current spiritual activity radius of 72 kilometers. Traveling there physically would be a long journey, and he would need a suitable reason to leave Fengzeyuan and the courtyard house for an extended period, which would easily arouse suspicion. Even traveling by spirit at night would only allow him to reach the outskirts of Tianjin, making it impossible to conduct a thorough and prolonged search or operation in the core area.

"We need a new 'springboard,' or... a 'bait' to lure her out." He Damin calmly considered as he placed the casserole on the stove designated by Master Wang. A direct assault would be too inefficient and risk alerting her. Perhaps he could leverage her existing investigation, as well as her greed and curiosity about "supernatural powers" and the truth behind the "Fengtai Incident"?

Yoshiko Kawashima was ordered to investigate a series of bizarre incidents in Fengtai and other areas. She or her subordinates would undoubtedly be actively gathering clues, contacting all sorts of people who might know something, and even attempting to find or "recruit" what she imagined to be "Chinese practitioners." He Damin's previous actions in Beiping left some unconventional traces (such as the "evil magic" characteristics suspected by the military). What if, in Tianjin, a place where she might feel safer and have more control, similar, but more "controllable" or "accessible" "paranormal clues" or "mysterious figures" appeared?

A rough plan was gradually taking shape in his mind. This plan required more thorough preparation, possibly utilizing the Soul Refining Banner's new ability [Soul Banner Projection], and also necessitating more detailed preliminary reconnaissance of Tianjin, especially the Dongxinglou area within the Japanese concession. Perhaps, it could rely on some impending "coincidence," or utilize some existing "channels"...

"Damin, what are you daydreaming about? Peel this basket of scallions!" Master Wang's voice came again, tinged with concern. "Didn't you sleep well last night? You look a little pale."

He Damin snapped out of his daze, took the basket of scallions, and gave a perfectly measured, slightly tired, shy smile: "It's nothing, Master Wang. I probably stayed up a little late reading last night."

He crouched in the corner, skillfully peeling scallions. The pungent aroma filled his nostrils, giving him a slight jolt. Sunlight streamed through the greasy windowpanes, casting beams of light through the rising steam in the kitchen. This was the anchor point of his present-day identity, the surface of his ordinary life. But under the cover of night, when his soul left his body, he was still the "Thousand-Faced Yama," teetering on the edge of life and death, secretly battling a witch.

Yoshiko Kawashima, whether you hide in a secluded mansion in Beiping or a Western-style building in Tianjin, no matter what face you present to the world, now that you've been added to the wanted list, this covert battle spanning the realms of the living and the dead, traversing Beijing and Tianjin, has only just begun. The next nightfall may well mark the start of a new game.

He calmly peeled the last scallion, neatly arranging the white parts on a blue-and-white porcelain plate. Outside the window, the loud announcements of dishes by waiters and the laughter of diners drifted from the front hall of Fengzeyuan Restaurant, mingling with the clatter of pots and pans from the kitchen, creating a noisy yet authentic symphony of everyday life in a chaotic world.

He Damin picked up the plate of scallions and walked towards Master Wang, who was stir-frying eel slices. His steps were steady, his eyes lowered, perfectly concealing all his sharpness and calculation beneath his greasy apprentice uniform. Only deep within his spiritual sea, the Soul Refining Banner, which had undergone three advancements and was faintly glowing with blood, seemed to sense the change in its host's thoughts, and the Netherworld Chains at the end of the banner moved without wind.