Courtyard House: Time Traveler Not Yet a Ghost

In the simple office of the Military Control Commission, the air carried the faint smell of freshly painted walls. He Damin sat upright in a hard wooden chair, the hot water in the enamel cup in front of him long since cooled. Outwardly, he displayed a calm waiting, even a hint of the reasonable restraint and obedience of someone newly entering society. But deep within his lowered eyes, his consciousness had already transformed into countless invisible tentacles, piercing through brick walls and rooftops, crossing the streets and crowds, spreading rapidly from the Military Control Commission towards Nanluoguxiang.

The divine sense of a Nascent Soul cultivator at the peak of his cultivation far surpasses that of a Yang God in scope, precision, and penetrating power. At this moment, exerting his full power, most of the East District seemed to unfold into an extremely detailed dynamic map within his consciousness. The hurried footsteps of pedestrians, the children playing in the courtyard, the smoke from the stove, even the faint chirping of crickets in the corner... countless information of sound, light, color, and smell flooded in, only to be instantly categorized, filtered, and analyzed by his powerful soul force, extracting only fragments related to "95 Nanluoguxiang".

found it.

My divine sense, like the most discerning peering mirror, silently descended upon that courtyard house with its blue bricks and gray tiles, weathered by time. The layout of the courtyard roughly matched the outline in my memory, but the interior was completely unrecognizable.

The front, middle, and back yards, once relatively spacious, were now fragmented by various illegally constructed sheds, coal pits, and clotheslines, appearing crowded and chaotic. There were clearly more residents than I remembered, mostly ordinary working-class families, dressed in patched but clean clothes, each busy with their own tasks. The air was filled with the unique aroma of a tenement courtyard, a mixture of coal smoke, food, soap, and the warmth of everyday life.

His spiritual senses focused on the east courtyard—the small, quiet courtyard with three north-facing rooms and east and west side rooms that originally belonged to him.

The courtyard gate was tightly closed, but divine sense could easily penetrate it. The layout of the courtyard had not changed much, but the original flowers, trees, and bonsai were gone, replaced by piles of miscellaneous items and old bedding drying in the sun. The doors and windows of the main house were tightly closed, and the window paper was yellowed and torn.

When his divine sense "saw" the old woman sitting at the eight-immortal table in the main room, sipping wine with a plate of peanuts, He Damin's heart stirred for the first time with a distinct, cold ripple.

A deaf old woman.

He would never mistake that wrinkled face, its seemingly cloudy eyes occasionally flashing with shrewdness. Although she looked much older than he remembered, it was undoubtedly her. How could this old lady, revered as the "Grandmother" in the original drama, a woman of deep thought, with close ties to Yi Zhonghai and considerable influence in the courtyard, be living in his east wing? And judging from her demeanor, she was clearly already the mistress of the house.

Director Yang Chengdong just mentioned that the current residents claim the house was "pawned" from He Daqing. Pawned to a deaf old woman? Although He Daqing is muddle-headed, he wouldn't be so stupid as to pawn his younger brother's property to such a troublesome old woman in the courtyard, unless... there was a huge profit motive, or he had some leverage to do so.

He Damin's consciousness lingered briefly on the deaf old woman, and he "heard" her muttering something in a low voice. She seemed somewhat impatient with the street officials and police officers who had come to inform her, but she was suppressing it. He had no interest in listening carefully, and his consciousness quickly turned to search for traces of He Daqing and his children.

He Daqing... wasn't in the courtyard. A sweep of divine sense throughout the entire courtyard, and even into the nearby alleys, failed to find the familiar, tall cook. Director Yang had said he'd gone to the Baoding cotton mill earlier this year. It seemed he really had left.

So, where are Zhu Zi (He Yuzhu) and Yu Shui (He Yushui)? And where is the eldest sister-in-law?

His divine sense, like the finest comb, once again scanned the entire courtyard. There was no trace of his sister-in-law. His brow furrowed almost imperceptibly. He expanded his divine sense, covering several surrounding streets.

Finally, about two streets away from the courtyard house, at the back wall of a government office, in a corner piled with coal ash, rotten vegetable leaves and scattered household garbage, he "saw" two small, huddled figures.

One was a teenager, about sixteen or seventeen years old, not short but extremely thin, with a weathered face, appearing to be in his early twenties. He wore an ill-fitting, patched-up cotton-padded jacket, its original color almost unrecognizable, his hair a tangled mess, his face covered in grime. He was using a stick to rummage through a dumped pile of garbage, his movements a numb, practiced efficiency. Occasionally, he would find half a blackened cornbread or a crumb of dry, hard bread, quickly stuffing it into a dirty cloth bag in his coat pocket.

Beside the boy was an even younger girl, who looked only five or six years old. She was also dressed in tattered clothes, her little face red from the cold, and her nose running. She huddled against the wall, watching her brother search with pleading eyes. The girl was also pitifully thin, with dry, yellow hair. Her large eyes looked particularly big against her dirty little face, but they lacked any sparkle, only the blankness brought on by hunger.

He Yuzhu. He Yushui.

Even after eight years, and despite the drastic changes in the children, He Damin could still recognize their features, especially He Yuzhu's slightly stubborn mouth. These…these were his elder brother He Daqing's son and daughter? Before his seclusion, Zhuzi was a chubby-cheeked toddler, giggling when he teased him with candy; Yushui hadn't even been born yet. Now, they'd been reduced to scavenging for food in garbage dumps?

A chilling rage, like a icy spring gushing from the earth, instantly seeped into He Damin's very being. It wasn't directed at the two children, but at the unknown cause that had caused all of this.

This isn't right. This is really wrong!

He clearly remembered the last time he saw his sister-in-law before going into seclusion. She was four or five months pregnant with Yu Shui. He Damin knew the tragedy of his sister-in-law dying from postpartum hemorrhage during the original story, so he made special preparations. He not only gave her a precious Marrow Cleansing Pill (primarily for soul fusion, but also for strengthening the body and eliminating hidden ailments), but also personally taught her a simplified version of Wing Chun and some health-preserving breathing techniques, aiming to improve her physical condition, ensure a smooth delivery, and give her basic self-defense capabilities. Although his sister-in-law wasn't a martial arts prodigy, her diligence and perseverance should have resulted in significant improvements in her health over the years.

Logically speaking, with the Marrow Cleansing Pill and years of consistent martial arts practice, his sister-in-law's physical condition far surpassed that of ordinary people. Let alone postpartum hemorrhage, she would hardly be bothered by common illnesses. Plus, with the gold he left to the family (He Daqing knew its location), even in turbulent times, their lives should have been comfortable. How could his two children have fallen into such a state? Where is his sister-in-law? Could it be… that something happened to her? But even if his sister-in-law is gone, He Daqing has gold; he shouldn't have let his children starve to the point of scavenging through the garbage!

Unless... He Daqing didn't use that gold at all, or he couldn't use it.

He Damin's divine sense swept across the courtyard again, focusing on Yi Zhonghai's house and the deaf old woman's house, trying to find clues. At Yi Zhonghai's house, he "heard" Yi Zhonghai speaking softly to an old woman, his tone carrying his usual "sanctimonious" demeanor and a hint of barely perceptible anxiety: "...When the military control committee comes to question us later, just say you don't know exactly why He Daqing left. He voluntarily mortgaged the house to the old woman, and we were all witnesses...Zhu Zi and the others...Sigh, the children are pitiful, but we also have to live our own lives, don't we? Giving them some food is fine, we can support them long-term..."

Inside the deaf old woman's house, she was complaining to a neighbor who had come to inquire: "...I, this old woman, exchanged this house with He Daqing for real money, I have a written agreement! He doesn't support his own children and ran away, what does that have to do with me? The government should be reasonable too!"

A written agreement? Gold? Voluntary?

Combining what He Damin knew from his "previous life"—that He Daqing was set up by Yi Zhonghai and the widow from Baoding as a honey trap, who fabricated some kind of "evidence" to blackmail him, ultimately scaring He Daqing into fleeing in panic, leaving behind his two children—a darker picture gradually formed in He Damin's mind.

Perhaps, in this life, because of the gold he left behind and the improvement of his sister-in-law's physique, some things have gone astray. But the greed and scheming of people like Yi Zhonghai and the deaf old woman probably haven't changed, and may even have intensified because of the existence of the gold.

They may have used even more insidious methods, not only scheming against He Daqing (perhaps through a similar honey trap, or even outright murder for money?), but also managing to embezzle the gold and seize control of the east wing using a so-called "deed." The eldest sister-in-law… perhaps she discovered the truth, or tried to protect her child and property, and was thus murdered? Or perhaps she was given a traditional Chinese medicine that caused severe bleeding during childbirth, and ultimately…

As for the two children, having lost their parents' protection, had their property stolen, and possibly even faced disdain and bullying from some people in the facility, it's already a miracle they survived. Scavenging for food in the garbage is probably their only way to live. Yi Zhonghai's so-called "food provision" is likely just a perfunctory gesture.

Thinking of this, He Damin's eyes turned completely cold, and the once calm starlight in the depths of his eyes seemed to freeze into ice shards. The temperature in the room seemed to drop a few degrees, and the staff accompanying him unconsciously pulled their collars tighter, glancing strangely out the window, wondering why the weather suddenly seemed colder.

He withdrew most of his divine sense, leaving only a faint trace to observe the corner next to the garbage dump and the movements in the direction of the courtyard house.

He took a deep breath, suppressing the murderous intent and chilling rage surging within him. Now was not the time to act rashly. This was the Military Control Commission of the new China, a place that valued evidence and policy. He needed to first, as "He Damin," the homeowner who had returned after years of disappearance, bring the legal issues surrounding the property to the forefront. As for his elder brother's disappearance, his sister-in-law's fate, the children's plight, the whereabouts of the gold, and the demons and monsters lurking in the shadows… he would dig them out, bit by bit, with his own hands.

A deaf old woman? Yi Zhonghai? No matter what methods you used in this life, since you've run into me and even messed with members of the He family...

He Damin picked up the glass of ice-cold water and took a small sip. The water was icy cold, but it was nothing compared to the chill in his heart.

He looked up at the office door. A slightly noisy sound of footsteps echoed down the corridor, mixed with the explanations of a street official, the disgruntled complaints of an elderly woman, and the somewhat slick agreement of a middle-aged man.