Courtyard House: Time Traveler Not Yet a Ghost

It was the 21st day of the twelfth lunar month, in the early morning.

The night had not yet completely faded; only a pale, fish-belly white sliver peeked across the horizon, as if someone had used the most sparing strokes of a brush to barely trace a thin line across the inky blackness of the night sky. The cold wind was still biting, sweeping along the ground, stirring up the thin frost that had accumulated overnight in the cracks of the stone slabs of Nanluoguxiang, swirling and making a soft, rustling sound like sandpaper rubbing together.

Inside the thin wooden door of the east courtyard, He Damin was fast asleep.

Last night, within the Taiji Yin-Yang Space, the shock and information overwhelming the fourth advancement of the Soul Refining Banner, along with the subsequent absorption of pure soul power to solidify its origin, while primarily activities at the soul level, still placed a tremendous strain on his mental energy. Even with his soul far stronger than ordinary people, after initially adapting to the new abilities and barely managing to regulate the surging soul power, a deep sense of exhaustion washed over him like a tide. He didn't even have time to carefully test the extension of the connection between his soul and physical body under the fourth-level enhancement of the Soul Refining Banner before his consciousness uncontrollably slipped into a dark slumber.

In my dream, there were no bizarre illusions, only a bottomless stillness and nothingness, as if I were submerged at the bottom of the ocean, isolated from all external sounds.

until--

"Thump! Thump! Thump!"

The dull, urgent knocking sound, like muffled thunder, suddenly exploded in the deep-sea-like silence.

The sound came from the moon gate leading from the east courtyard to the front yard, a wooden door with peeling red paint that was rarely kept closed. The knocking was rapid and heavy, filled with obvious panic and even despair, mercilessly shattering the last peace before dawn.

He Damin suddenly woke up!

The moment his eyelids opened, there was no trace of the drowsiness of just waking up in his eyes, only a sharp glint like a drawn blade. Almost reflexively, his powerful divine sense spread out instantly like invisible ripples, penetrating the wooden door and courtyard wall, accurately "seeing" the situation outside the moon gate.

Outside the door stood a trembling figure. It was her sister-in-law, Lü Bingxin.

She was only wearing a worn-out cotton-padded jacket haphazardly draped over her shoulders, the buttons undone, revealing a thin undershirt underneath. Her hair clung disheveled to her pale cheeks and sweaty forehead, her eyes were red and swollen, and tear tracks stained her face, glistening wetly in the cold dawn light. One hand clutched the front of her jacket tightly, while the other pounded frantically on the door, oblivious to the fact that her palm was turning red from the pounding.

"Damin! Damin! Open the door! Get up! Your sister-in-law needs to see you urgently! Damin—!" Her voice was hoarse and shrill, filled with heavy sobs and uncontrollable trembling, like a taut string that could snap at any moment.

He Damin's heart sank inexplicably. Something had happened! How could his usually gentle and composed sister-in-law have lost her composure like this in the early hours of the morning…

"Okay, sister-in-law! I'll be right out! Just a moment!" he called out, deliberately keeping his voice steady, trying to calm the woman outside the door who was on the verge of collapse.

Without the slightest hesitation, he threw off the cold quilt, the biting chill instantly enveloping his body, which was clad only in a thin nightgown. But he didn't care, quickly grabbing the neatly folded cotton-padded clothes and trousers from the bedside and putting them on in a few swift movements. The cotton-padded clothes were old cotton that his sister-in-law had hand-stitched; they weren't thick, but they were enough to keep him warm. On his feet, he slipped on his multi-layered cotton shoes, the soles still stained with a little mud he had brought back from outside the city the day before.

He strode to the door, took a deep breath, and pulled open the creaking moon door.

The chill from outside, mixed with the panic emanating from Lü Bingxin, rushed in. The daylight was a little brighter than before, making every trace of fear on her face even more clearly visible.

"Damin! Damin!" As soon as Lü Bingxin saw him, she rushed forward like a drowning person grasping at a straw, her cold, trembling hands tightly gripping his arm, her nails almost digging into his cotton-padded coat. "Your older brother... your older brother... this morning, before it was fully light, he got up to go to the public toilet outside the alley... he hadn't been out long... when... he was captured by the Japanese devils! Waaah..." She spoke incoherently, tears streaming down her face like a broken string of pearls, mixed with snot, covering her face.

"They captured them by the Japanese devils?" He Damin's eyes narrowed. He reached out to support his sister-in-law, who was almost unsteady on her feet. His voice remained calm, but his eyes were icy cold. "Sister-in-law, don't panic. Tell me slowly. Did you see clearly? How many Japanese devils were there? How did they capture her? Which direction did they go?"

"I...I saw it clearly!" Lü Bingxin nodded vigorously, as if trying to shake off her fear as well. "Three Japanese soldiers, wearing yellow uniforms and carrying guns! And two others in black clothes, like...like henchmen of the detective squad! They blocked the alley entrance. As soon as your older brother went out, he was surrounded. After saying a few words and some pushing and shoving, he was...taken away! He went...to the west! I saw it from behind the door, but I didn't dare to go out...Zhu Zi is still sleeping inside, I...I..." She spoke, anxious and frightened, her whole body trembling like a leaf in the autumn wind.

"West..." He Damin's mind raced. West of Nanluoguxiang was the direction of Di'anmen and the Drum Tower, and further west was the Forbidden City, where there were many Japanese military headquarters and barracks. "Sister-in-law, don't cry. My brother is usually honest and law-abiding, and never causes trouble. There must be some misunderstanding here. I'll go out and find out what happened. You stay home and watch the pillars, bolt the door, and don't open it for anyone. Wait for me to come back."

His voice wasn't loud, but it carried an undeniable calming power, like a cold stone thrown into Lü Bingxin's boiling, panicked heart, slightly calming the raging waves.

"Okay...okay, Damin, you must save your brother! If anything happens to him, how will my daughter and I live..." Lü Bingxin sobbed uncontrollably, but managed to loosen her grip on his arm and wipe her face haphazardly with her sleeve.

"Don't worry, I'm here." He Damin only said three words, patted his sister-in-law's cold hand, then turned around and strode towards the front yard.

As he passed through the hanging flower gate and reached the front yard, the sky had brightened somewhat. The pale sunlight sparsely spilled into the courtyard, illuminating the blue brick floor and the tightly closed doors of each household. But the courtyard was not deserted.

At the entrance of the main house in the central courtyard, Yi Zhonghai, wearing a cotton robe, frowned and peered in this direction, while his wife hid behind him, peeking out. In the backyard, Liu Haizhong's house also lit up, and two shadowy figures were projected onto the window paper, seemingly conversing in hushed tones. Several residents who had gotten up early to prepare meals stopped what they were doing, their gazes, some openly, some furtively, fixed on He Damin as he emerged from the east courtyard. An eerie silence filled the air, broken only by the howling of the cold wind through the eaves.

Clearly, Lü Bingxin's panicked banging and crying had alerted the courtyard in the early morning.

He Damin walked straight towards the main gate without glancing to the side. His expression was calm, even more so than usual, and his steps were steady, showing no sign of panic. But his slightly narrowed eyes seemed to be filled with two blocks of ice that had stood for millennia.

Just as he was about to step out of the courtyard house, a sharp, grating voice, tinged with obvious schadenfreude, came from the direction of the Jia family's house next door:

"Oh! I thought it was someone wailing at the crack of death early in the morning! Oh, it's the He family! Tsk tsk, stealing chickens and smuggling leftovers from Fengzeyuan every day, you've really developed some kind of savagery? This time the Imperial Army caught you red-handed, huh? Serves you right! Serves you right! Heaven has opened its eyes, letting you scumbags with your shady hands get your comeuppance!"

The speaker was Zhang Cuihua, Jia Youcai's wife. She had probably just gotten out of bed; her hair was still uncombed, and she stood at her doorway, hands on her hips, wearing a greasy cotton-padded coat. Her mean face was full of mockery and undisguised malice. Spittle flew out with her words, condensing into white mist in the cold air.

These words were like poisoned needles, piercing the heart of Lü Bingxin, who had just barely stopped crying and stood by the hanging flower gate. Her body trembled, her face turned even paler, and her lips trembled as she tried to refute, but due to extreme fear and sorrow, she couldn't speak for a moment, and tears welled up again.

Among the others in the courtyard, Yi Zhonghai frowned, seemingly wanting to say something, but ultimately just sighed and turned his face away. The figure in Liu Haizhong's window flickered but remained silent. The others lowered their heads, either pretending not to hear or their eyes darting around.

He Damin stopped in front of the threshold.

He didn't turn around immediately, nor did he look at Zhang Cuihua's repulsive face. The cold wind whipped up the hem of his cotton robe, making it flutter. His back was ramrod straight, like a javelin.

"Stealing food..." He silently repeated the harsh word Zhang Cuihua had uttered, his eyes flashing with even greater coldness. But this wasn't the time to argue with such a foolish woman. He had more important things to do.

However, Zhang Cuihua's words were like a key, unintentionally unlocking a long-forgotten corner of his memory.

My hazy memories of the TV series "Full House of Love," gleaned from fragments I'd seen in a past life, flashed through my mind like faded film. Some fragments gradually became clearer—He Daqing, Sha Zhu's father, seemed to be more than just a cook… He seemed to have…cooked for the Japanese? And even been featured in the newspaper? It seemed that this incident scared He Daqing and the White Widow away to Baoding, and later, it seemed, influenced Sha Zhu's entire life?

The thought flashed through my mind like lightning!

He Damin suddenly turned around, his gaze sharp as lightning, sweeping over Zhang Cuihua. His gaze was icy and piercing, devoid of any emotion, yet it made Zhang Cuihua, who was speaking eloquently, feel as if she had suddenly been choked. Her voice stopped abruptly, her smug expression froze, and she subconsciously took a small step back, shrinking her neck.

He Damin ignored her, his gaze returning to Lü Bingxin, who was pale and swaying precariously. His voice remained steady, yet carried a reassuring strength: "Sister-in-law, go home, lock the door. Wait for my message."

After saying that, he didn't linger. He stepped out of the courtyard gate, leaving behind all the foul language Zhang Cuihua might unleash and the various complicated gazes in the courtyard.

The alley was deserted, with only the cold wind swirling up garbage and dust. The sky had brightened a bit, but it remained overcast, and the sun was nowhere to be seen.

He Damin walked briskly, but his brain was working at high speed.

"It's not because of stealing food. Zhang Cuihua is such a fool; she only uses her narrow-minded and malicious mind to speculate about others." He quickly dismissed this ridiculous reason. His elder brother, He Daqing, might bring back some scraps or leftovers from Fengzeyuan, but that was more of a tacit favor from the manager and the chefs—a disguised perk for the employees—and would never warrant the attention of the Japanese devils and the detectives coming to arrest him.

"So... cooking for the Japanese devils? Taking it out of the newspaper?" This speculation, brought about by fragments of memories from his past life, suddenly increased in probability.

He Daqing was honest and kind, with solid culinary skills; his family's Tan family cuisine was exceptional. If the Japanese were looking for a skilled Chinese chef, especially in a famous restaurant in Beiping, Fengzeyuan would definitely be one of their targets. It's not surprising that He Daqing, as a rising star at Fengzeyuan, caught their attention.

"Arrest them, not 'invite' them..." He Damin's eyes turned slightly cold. If it were a normal requisition of cooks to serve the Japanese, perhaps pressure would be exerted through the puppet regime or the restaurant to send someone to "invite" them, not this brutal act of directly sending troops to arrest them. Unless... this matter is special, or time is of the essence, or... it's simply a shady "mission" requiring forced secrecy?

Considering the recent predicament of the Japanese in North China, the pressure and anxiety that may exist at the top level, and the needs of certain special occasions (such as banquets for important figures, appeasing the morale of the troops, or even some shady "victory celebrations" or "sacrificial" activities?), it is not impossible for them to forcibly arrest a skilled chef.

"We must find out as soon as possible." He Damin quickened his pace, his direction clear—Fengzeyuan. Chef Wang was one of the head chefs at Fengzeyuan, and also the eldest brother's mentor. He had extensive connections and was well-informed in the catering industry. He might know some inside information, or be able to find out relevant details.

On the streets of Beiping in the early morning, pedestrians gradually filled the streets. Rickshaw drivers, their breath steaming in the air, began soliciting customers, while breakfast stalls lit their stoves, sending up plumes of fragrant steam. Newsboys, carrying cloth bags, hunched over their shoulders, hawked the day's newspapers. Everything seemed to be operating as usual, the day's work beginning.

But He Damin could keenly sense that the Japanese and puppet police patrolling the streets seemed more numerous than usual, and their eyes were more vigilant. Occasionally, a black car with a Japanese flag would speed by, kicking up a cloud of dust.

A shadow fell over his heart. His elder brother's arrest seemed like a sudden event, but at this time, against the backdrop of the Japanese army suffering a series of mysterious attacks and internal panic spreading, could there be a deeper connection? Could it be... some kind of test or retaliation against him, He Damin? Although he was confident that his actions were discreet enough, there are no secrets in the world, especially with that viper Kawashima Yoshiko still lurking in the shadows.

This thought made his eyes grow even colder. If they were really after him... then some people would truly be doomed.

He stopped thinking and quickened his pace, weaving through the sparse crowds of the early morning, heading swiftly towards Fengzeyuan outside the front gate.

The cold wind was still biting, fluttering the hem of his cotton robe. He Damin's face was calm as still water, but his eyes, like two bottomless pools of ice, reflected the gray sky of a winter morning in Beiping, where a murderous intent was quietly gathering.