Courtyard House: Time Traveler Not Yet a Ghost

Consciousness, like a pebble sunk to the bottom of the deep sea, is enveloped in endless darkness and silence. There is no light, no sound, no heat or cold, not even the feeling of "existence." Only a faint "intention" remains, like an unchanging star, anchoring the coordinates of the concept of "He Damin" in absolute nothingness.

This is the peak of "Refining Qi into Spirit" in the Taoist Primordial Elixir, a state of profound spiritual communion that may be encountered when attempting to break through to "Refining Spirit into Emptiness"—the unity of heaven and man, the fusion of spirit and the vast emptiness. In this state, the practitioner experiences a brief but profound resonance with the laws of heaven and earth, the five senses are shut off, the internal energy rotates on its own, and the passage of time becomes meaningless, as if it were a moment, yet also as if it were eternity.

He Damin remained immersed in this state for an unknown period of time.

That "intention" anchored in nothingness is the fundamental mental method of the Taoist Primordial Elixir, the original connection between the Golden Elixir and the Yang Spirit, and also the undying self-awareness deep within his soul. It exists quietly, like a seed waiting to sprout, waiting for the opportunity to be awakened.

Finally, at a certain moment.

In that absolute silence and darkness, a tiny ripple seemed to appear out of nowhere. It wasn't a sound, nor light or shadow, but a kind of... "sense of difference." Like an absolutely smooth surface of water feeling the wind for the first time, even if the wind was so weak that it couldn't create any ripples, the very sensation of being "touched" broke the absolute "nothingness."

This sense of "difference" comes from the outside world, stubbornly penetrating through layers of seclusion and the barrier of harmony between man and nature. Perhaps it is the slight stirring of the earth's energy brought by another spring breeze deep in the Yanshan Mountains; perhaps it is a rock above the secret realm that has finally peeled away after years of wind and frost; or perhaps it is simply a subtle, extremely faint rhythmic change that naturally occurs when heaven and earth reach a certain point in their cycle.

But for "intention," which has been immersed in nothingness for too long and whose sensitivity has been elevated to an unbelievable level, this difference is nothing short of a thunderclap!

The meaning suddenly trembled!

Like an ancient god who has been sleeping for billions of years, blinking for the first time.

The next moment, perception surged forth like a flood bursting its banks, crashing back from the depths of nothingness!

The first thing to recover was the "inner landscape." A purplish-gold nascent soul clearly emerged in his dantian, about three inches tall, its face identical to He Damin's, dignified and solemn, surrounded by faint purple clouds, radiating a powerful and pure fluctuation of life and magical energy—the Nascent Soul Perfection Realm! He could clearly feel the almost overflowing, liquid-like true essence within the nascent soul, and the subtle, almost imperceptible connection with the spiritual energy of heaven and earth. Only a trigger, a moment of enlightenment, or a more abundant spiritual environment was needed to attempt to condense a "virtual spirit" and knock on the gate to refining the spirit and returning to emptiness.

At the same time, the condition of every cell in the body is also reflected back. Qi and blood are like mercury, bone marrow is like frost, and the five internal organs radiate a shimmering light. Especially in the heart, a golden elixir-like phantom slowly pulsates. Each pulsation drives the qi and blood of the whole body to complete a perfect cycle. The power is restrained to the extreme, yet it can burst out with the power to split mountains and shatter rocks at any time—national martial arts, the Dan Jin is perfected! Only the final step of "breaking through the void and seeing the indestructible spirit" is missing.

The tremendous progress in cultivation brought an instant sense of clarity and power, but it was quickly followed by an indescribable feeling of sluggishness and unfamiliarity. The body... felt as if it hadn't been used in a long time. The flow of true energy in the meridians was powerful, yet it felt raw, like a newly opened riverbed; the muscles and bones were incredibly strong, but the nerve feedback seemed a beat slow. This wasn't injury or degeneration; it was more like... a precision instrument that had been idle for a long time, needing to be restarted and lubricated.

He Damin did not rush into action, remaining seated cross-legged, and slowly and extremely gently began to manipulate his true energy to circulate within his body in the most subtle way, like awakening a hibernating beast, activating this long-dormant body little by little. At the same time, his divine sense, like a stream thawing in early spring, carefully spread out from his sea of ​​consciousness.

First, there was the area around the stone platform. The concealment and protective barriers set up before his seclusion remained intact, but a thick layer of dust, almost fossilized, had accumulated on the barrier's light screen. The stone platform itself was also covered in dust, making his seated figure resemble a real stone sculpture.

The divine sense continued to extend outward.

The hot spring pool... the steam still lingered, but the cracks in the blue bricks he had personally laid along the edge were now covered with thick, dark green moss, and in some places, even a few inconspicuous little white flowers bloomed in the damp environment. The water seemed to have gotten deeper, and the traces of water erosion on the edge rocks were more obvious.

The medicinal herb field… He Damin was slightly taken aback as his divine sense swept over it. The vibrant, spirit-filled herb garden he had envisioned did not appear; instead, it was a… overgrown, even somewhat chaotic, patch of vegetation! The ginseng, lingzhi, and polygonatum he had personally planted years ago were nowhere to be seen, replaced by a lush, uneven patch of mixed vegetation. Some were clearly descendants of the medicinal herbs, having undergone natural hybridization or mutation, growing wildly and unrestrained; most were common shrubs and weeds native to Yanshan, encroaching on the space of the medicinal herb field, mingling with the remaining seedlings of the herbs, forming a new, wildly vibrant micro-ecosystem. Only a few of the highest-grade spiritual herbs planted years ago seemed to have preserved a small territory in the fierce competition for survival, thanks to their faint spirituality, but even they were surrounded by rampant weeds and shrubs.

The treehouse… its roof, covered with tar paper and wooden planks, had rotted away over the years, revealing broken rafters underneath. The walls were mottled and covered with vines. The sturdy wooden door was half-open, revealing a dark interior that smelled of mildew and the stench of an animal's den, as if the place had been uninhabited for a long time.

He Damin's heart sank slightly. This was definitely not the result of a one or two-year seclusion. The growth cycle of medicinal herbs, the rate of decay of buildings, the natural succession of ecosystems... all of these require time measured in "years".

He remained calm and his divine sense, like tentacles, suddenly probed into the depths of the mountain—the secret warehouse he had personally dug before his seclusion to store massive amounts of supplies!

The illusion array and mechanisms at the entrance remain, but they too bear the marks of time. Divine sense penetrates the rock layers and enters the first main storage cave.

The scene stirred noticeable ripples in my usually calm and composed mind.

The neatly stacked sacks (of grain) that once stood piled high are now nothing but a carpet of black, damp, rotting matter, emitting a musty, musty odor, with strange fungi even growing in some places. Most of the wooden crates (canned goods, compressed biscuits) are rotten and collapsed, their contents long since decayed, leaving only rusted, warped iron and shards of glass. Bundles of cloth and military uniforms have turned into tattered, indistinct pieces of shredded fabric, covered with a thick layer of dust and cobwebs.

Metal objects were not spared either. Mountains of rifles and machine guns were covered in thick, reddish-brown rust; many bolts and parts were rusted shut, threatening to shatter at the slightest touch. Ammunition boxes were severely corroded, casting doubt on the safety of the shells inside. Even the precision machine tools, though their main structures remained intact, had exposed metal parts riddled with rust; guide rails and lead screws were covered in grime; and precision instruments were dusty and broken…

The entire warehouse was permeated with a heavy aura of decay and death, a testament to the relentless passage of time. The supplies that once represented immense wealth and power had, after years of neglect and neglect, mostly turned into decaying dust and rusted scrap iron.

He Damin silently "watched" all of this. He felt little regret—to him, supplies were simply tools to be collected, exchanged, or stored; they were not irreplaceable. What truly moved and confirmed him was time.

"It seems... this seclusion will last much longer than a year or two." He muttered to himself, his voice rising above the long-silent stone platform, dry and hoarse, as if his vocal cords needed to readjust.

Based on the degree of decay and rust of these materials, combined with the climate and environment of the Yanshan region, and taking into account the succession of plant communities... He Damin quickly made an estimate with the precise thinking of a cultivator.

"The grain will be completely rotten, the cloth will turn to dust, and the metal will be severely corroded... It will take at least five years, or even longer. Ordinary warehouses don't decompose naturally that quickly, but this is inside a mountain, where the humidity is relatively stable and high, plus the possible presence of microorganisms... Seven or eight years? Or... ten years?"

This number made even him feel a chill. The ancient saying, "Cultivation knows no time," is indeed true. A deep retreat, an attempt to break through to a higher realm, had actually consumed such a long period of time.

So, what year and month is it in the outside world now? He went into seclusion in May 1943. If seven or eight years have passed, then it would be the early 1950s now? If ten years have passed, then it would be 1953?

Has the War of Resistance against Japan ended? Who won? What has the world become? What kind of results have he reaped from the "causes" he sowed back then—the sweeps in Taiyuan, Baoding, Fengtian, and Northeast China, and the "return gift" to Unit 731?

And what about Li Yunlong, the regimental commander who was always thinking about business, had a fiery temper, but was also loyal and righteous? What kind of story did the 1,500 "Soul-Forged Iron Cavalry" he delivered go through?

Countless questions flooded his mind, but He Damin quickly suppressed them. The primary requirement for a cultivator's mind is tranquility. No matter how drastic the changes in the outside world, they must be investigated step by step.

He first needs to fully regain control of this body and adapt to the surge in his cultivation.

Slowly, he opened his eyes.

What came into view was a thick layer of dust in front of the stone platform, and a tender shoot of an unknown wild grass stubbornly peeking out from a crack in the stone. Looking up, through the dilapidated treetop canopy, one could see the familiar blue sky above the Yanshan Mountains, diluted by mist. The angle of the sunlight... seemed somewhat similar to a certain afternoon before my seclusion in my memory, yet also seemed completely different.

He took a deep breath. The air was filled with the stale smell of dust, the fresh scent of grass and trees, the sulfurous aroma of hot springs, and the distant, lingering cries of wild beasts echoing from the mountains. Everything felt so real, yet tinged with the strangeness of a long-awaited reunion.

"Nascent Soul complete, Core Formation complete..." He felt the surging power within his body, more than ten times stronger than before his seclusion! But failing to break through to "Refining Spirit to Return to Emptiness" was still a bit of a regret. The thin spiritual energy of this place was indeed the biggest obstacle. Perhaps, in the future, he would need to find a secret realm with more abundant spiritual energy, or... find another way.

He stood up.

"Crack..." A slight popping sound, like popping beans, rang out from his body, and the accumulated dust fell in a flurry. His movements were a little stiff at first, but they quickly became fluid again. He took a light step off the stone platform and landed silently on the ground covered with fallen leaves and dust.

Walking to the hot spring, I gazed at my reflection in the water. My appearance seemed largely unchanged; with my successful cultivation, maintaining my youthful looks was a given. But my eyes were more profound, as if they had weathered the test of time, carrying a detached and worldly wisdom. My long hair reached my waist, unkempt yet not messy, instead possessing a natural, Taoist charm.

He scooped up a handful of hot spring water and washed away years of grime from his face. The water temperature remained the same, but everything else had changed.

"It's time to go out and take a look." He Damin looked towards the only exit of the secret realm, his eyes, which had become clear and sharp again, gleaming with a light of inquiry and calmness.

After years of seclusion, the world has undergone a complete transformation. I wonder what kind of landscape I will face upon returning to the world, and what kind of waves I will stir up.