Courtyard House: Time Traveler Not Yet a Ghost

The hustle and bustle outside Qianmen and the deathly silence of Nanluoguxiang are like two different worlds.

Fengzeyuan's imposing facade was still up, with the doors still in place. Inside, waiters were sweeping and cleaning, the sounds of splashing water and brooms scraping across the blue brick floor mingling together. From the direction of the kitchen, the faint sounds of bellows and the gentle clanging of pots and pans could be heard—the early shift chefs were preparing the day's supplies.

He Damin didn't go through the main gate. Instead, he went around to the side alley and knocked on the narrow door that was used by the shop assistants and deliverymen.

The person who opened the door was a sleepy-eyed young apprentice. He was taken aback when he saw him: "Brother Min? So early? You haven't started work yet."

"I need to see Master Wang, it's urgent." He Damin said succinctly, then slipped inside. The young apprentice was intimidated by the unusually cold expression on his face and didn't dare to ask any more questions, pointing instead to the direction leading to the backyard.

In the backyard, piles of chopped firewood and several large vats for pickling vegetables filled the air with a mixture of coal smoke and the stench of stale oil. Master Wang was washing himself by the well, wearing only a thin shirt that revealed his lean but muscular arms. He rolled up his sleeves and splashed the cold well water on his face. Hearing footsteps, he looked up, his wrinkles appearing even deeper on his wet face.

Upon seeing that it was He Damin, Master Wang shook the water droplets off his hands and immediately frowned: "Damin? What happened? Why do you look so pale so early in the morning?" He knew his apprentice's temperament well. He was usually so calm and composed that he didn't seem like a teenager. The uncontrollable coldness in his eyes at this moment meant that something serious must have happened.

"Master Wang," He Damin approached, his voice low but clear, "My elder brother, He Daqing, was arrested by Japanese soldiers and detectives at our doorstep before dawn today."

"What?!" The towel in Master Wang's hand fell into the basin with a "plop," splashing water everywhere. His face changed. "Arrested? For what? We're honest, law-abiding citizens, what could we possibly have done?"

"I don't know. That's why I came to ask you." He Damin stared intently at Chef Wang. "Have you heard any rumors lately? About requisitioning cooks, especially... cooks for the Japanese?"

Master Wang's eyes flickered, and he didn't answer immediately. He bent down to pick up the towel, slowly wringing it out, his movements somewhat sluggish. After a long while, he sighed, his voice lowering: "Lately... things have been a bit unsettled. The military police, the secret service, and those people from the puppet municipal government come to various restaurants every few days to 'inspect' them. Ostensibly, they're checking hygiene and inspecting ingredients, but secretly... I heard they're looking for top-notch chefs. A few days ago, Chef Liu from Hongbinlou and Chef Zhang from Cuihualou were both 'invited' to 'help out,' supposedly to prepare a banquet for some kind of 'party.' They were only released after two or three days, and they'd both lost weight. They wouldn't say anything, just shook their heads."

He paused, glanced around to make sure no one was watching, then leaned closer, almost whispering in He Damin's ear: "I reckon Daqing is probably being watched too. Among the younger generation in our brothel, his cooking skills are top-notch, especially his 'Braised Sea Cucumber with Scallions.' He learned it from me; the cooking time and flavor are impeccable. If the Japanese really want to find a good chef… sigh!"

"Do you know where the person was taken? Or who is behind this?" He Damin pressed.

Master Wang shook his head, a troubled look and a hint of guilt on his face: "I don't know the specifics. Those places... how could ordinary people like us possibly find out? But..." He hesitated for a moment, as if making a decision, "If you really want to know, you might as well go find someone."

"Who?"

"Little Ears," Master Wang uttered three words. Seeing He Damin's puzzled expression, he explained, "He runs a shady gambling den near the Qianmen Jewelry Market. He knows all sorts of people and has the best connections. Especially those shady dealings involving Japanese devils and traitors—he can usually leak some information. However, this guy only cares about money and is tight-lipped. If you want to buy information from him, you have to pay this." He made a finger-twisting gesture.

He Damin immediately understood. "How much do you need?"

Master Wang pondered for a moment and said, "It depends on what they're asking about. If it involves the Japanese arresting people, there will be plenty. Take ten silver dollars and go scout it out first. If it doesn't work out, we'll talk about it later. Remember, when you get there, don't mention me. Just say that Manager Li from 'Hongshunju' introduced you to inquire about the cook's market. When you see him, ask him directly, don't beat around the bush."

"Ten silver dollars..." He Damin nodded. Money wasn't an issue; there was plenty of gold and silver in the Taiji Space. "Thank you for your guidance, Master Wang. I'll go right now."

"Wait," Master Wang called out to him, his wrinkles deepening, revealing a sense of helplessness and weariness. "Damin, I know you're anxious. But... it's okay to inquire, but be careful. Getting involved with those people never ends well. Find out what's going on, come back quickly, and we'll discuss it further. Daqing is a good kid, hopefully... he's just going to cook a meal."

He Damin gave Master Wang a deep look, nodded, said nothing more, turned around and quickly left the backyard of Fengzeyuan.

The ten silver dollars, heavy as they were, were wrapped in a blue cloth and tucked into his pocket. Without delay, He Damin headed straight for the Qianmen Jewelry Market.

This place was even more chaotic than the area around Fengzeyuan. The narrow streets were crammed with all sorts of shops: pawnshops, antique stores, silk shops, general stores, their signs lined up one after another. Even more numerous were inconspicuous little storefronts, some with filthy curtains hanging over them, others with their doors ajar, dark and gloomy inside, their activities unclear. The air was thick with the stench of cheap cosmetics, low-quality tobacco, fried food, and the distinctive, murky smell of some underground establishment. Even though it was early morning, several suspicious-looking people were already loitering on the streets, their eyes darting around.

Following Master Wang's vague directions—"the back alley with a faded red lantern and a crooked jujube tree at the entrance"—He Damin wandered around the maze-like alley several times before finally finding the tattered lantern, whose red color was barely recognizable, and the old jujube tree, half-dead and with gnarled branches, in an extremely secluded corner.

At the end of the alley was a small, black lacquered door. The door panel was thick, and there wasn't even a door knocker. He Damin stepped forward, bent his middle finger, and knocked with a specific rhythm—two heavy knocks followed by one light knock, then three heavy knocks.

There was no sound from inside. He wasn't in a hurry and waited quietly.

After about half a cup of tea's time, a hoarse voice, like a broken bellows, came from behind the door: "Who is it? Announcing a death so early in the morning?"

"Manager Li of Hongshunju, I'd like to inquire about the going rate for chefs," He Damin said calmly, following the jargon taught to him by Master Wang.

There was a moment of silence inside the door, then it creaked open a crack, just enough for one person to squeeze through. A pair of cloudy eyes peered at him from behind the crack, seemingly confirming that he was just a teenager (though he had a cold demeanor), before opening the door wider: "Come in."

The room was dimly lit and filled with a strong smell of smoke and sweat. It was small, furnished with a few worn-out tables and chairs, and was currently empty. A middle-aged man, as thin as a stick and with ears noticeably smaller than average, was curled up in a corner armchair, polishing a greasy set of dice by the light of a small oil lamp. He looked up, his sallow face expressionless, except for the occasional glint of shrewd, worldly wisdom in his small eyes.

"Little Ears?" He Damin asked.

"Call him Brother Ears." The man slowly put the dice into a cloth bag. "Did Fatty Li introduce you? You're asking about the going rate for chefs, and you've managed to get into my area?" He clearly didn't believe that story.

Without wasting words, He Damin placed the blue cloth handkerchief on the table, opened it to reveal ten gleaming silver dollars inside. "Inquire about someone: He Daqing, the cook who was arrested by the Japanese and the detectives near Nanluoguxiang early this morning. Why was he arrested? Where was he taken?"

Little Ears' gaze lingered on the ten silver dollars for a moment, his Adam's apple bobbing almost imperceptibly. Ten silver dollars was no small sum; enough for an ordinary family to eat for more than half a year. He put down his work, leaned forward slightly, and his small eyes gleamed even brighter: "Nanluoguxiang... He Daqing... He Daqing from Fengzeyuan?"

"Yes."

Xiao Erduo smacked his lips, not answering immediately, his fingers tapping lightly on the greasy table, as if weighing his options. He Damin didn't urge him, but just watched him quietly, his eyes calm and expressionless, yet making Xiao Erduo feel a strange pressure.

Finally, Little Ears spoke, his voice even lower, almost a whisper: "This matter... is a bit complicated. Your brother... has been set up."

"Who?"

"Jia Gui. A squad leader in the detective team, not very capable, but a master at flattery and bullying the innocent." Little Ears showed a hint of disdain on his face. "This guy has a cousin named Jia Youcai, who seems to live in the Nanluoguxiang area."

He Damin's eyes suddenly turned cold! Jia Youcai! Zhang Cuihua's man! It really was them!