Courtyard House: Ten-year-old Master Zhu reorganizes the entire courtyard

On the appointed day of the Ghost Market, the night in Beiping was as dark as ink, and a biting wind howled. He Yuzhu wrapped his tattered cotton-padded coat tighter around himself, carefully concealing a batch of Japanese military compressed biscuits he had just retrieved from his system space, wrapped tightly in an oilcloth, and tucked them into his bosom. This transaction was more important and more dangerous than any before. He knew that he would be facing no longer street vendors or thugs, but people who truly fought for their beliefs.

He once again infiltrated the ghost market with practiced ease, heading straight for the old ghost's shed. The old ghost merely nodded slightly upon seeing him, pointing to a more secluded corner behind the shed. He Yuzhu understood and followed the old ghost there.

In the corner, a man in his thirties with a dark, rough face stood with his back to them in front of a pile of miscellaneous items. He wore a faded, coarse cotton coat, which looked ordinary, but his broad shoulders and upright posture revealed a unique military bearing. Hearing footsteps, he slowly turned around.

It was a weathered face, with high cheekbones and deep, sharp eyes that seemed to see right through people. He didn't say much, but quickly swept his gaze over He Yuzhu, a hint of surprise flashing in his eyes—he clearly hadn't expected the "owner" Old Ghost had brought to be a child.

"Old Chen, this is the young man I was talking about." Old Gui gave a brief introduction and then stepped aside, indicating that he was just a middleman.

He Yuzhu wasn't intimidated; he knew he couldn't lose face in this situation. He took the oilcloth package from his arms, placed it on the ground, and didn't open it. He looked directly into Old Chen's eyes and said in a deep voice, "Brother Chen, I've heard so much about you. Here's the item; please inspect it."

Old Chen walked to the oilcloth package and squatted down. He didn't rush to open it, but first touched the material of the oilcloth with his hand, and then brought it close to his nose to smell it, as if checking if there was any strange smell inside the package. His movements were steady and experienced, and every detail revealed years of underground work experience.

After confirming that everything was normal, Old Chen carefully opened the oilcloth package. What came into view were several neatly stacked Japanese military compressed biscuits, each tightly wrapped in waterproof oil paper, in perfect condition, without any signs of dampness or damage.

A flicker of surprise crossed Old Chen's eyes. He picked up a biscuit, tore open the packaging, broke off a small piece, and put it in his mouth. He chewed slowly, savoring the familiar, slightly salty energy boost. This was Japanese military rations, far superior to ordinary dry rations in both nutrition and calories. For the guerrillas who were constantly on the move and plagued by hunger, this was a lifesaver.

He nodded slowly, the sharpness in his eyes softening slightly, replaced by a hint of approval. "That's right. This stuff is good for us." His words were concise, yet full of power.

"How do I exchange it?" Old Chen asked directly, without any politeness.

He Yuzhu didn't mince words. "Silver dollars. Or equivalent amounts of Western medicine, bullets. Silver dollars would be the main component, with Western medicine and bullets as secondary components." He knew the guerrillas were short of supplies, but he wanted to secure what they needed most. Silver dollars were hard currency and could solve their immediate problems. Western medicine could save lives, and bullets were a symbol of self-defense and strength.

Upon hearing this, Old Chen frowned almost imperceptibly. He pondered for a moment and said, "Silver dollars can pay for part of it. Western medicine and bullets... we're also in short supply right now. How many of these biscuits do you have? We urgently need them."

He Yuzhu was secretly pleased, knowing that the other party was indeed in urgent need. He pretended to hesitate, then said, "The quantity... is not large for now. But if we can reach a long-term cooperation, I can guarantee a stable supply." He was testing the waters, and also trying to gain more room for cooperation.

Old Chen looked up and sized up He Yuzhu again. This kid was not only bold but also clear-headed, and his negotiations were flawless. He didn't immediately respond to He Yuzhu's words but instead held up three fingers. "This time, three biscuits, I'll give you three silver dollars. If we can cooperate long-term, the price can be negotiated."

He Yuzhu shook his head. "Brother Chen, you know the value of this stuff. Three silver dollars is too little. These biscuits are enough to keep a team member from going hungry for two days, enough for a day's march and battle. I won't ask for more, eight silver dollars a piece. Three pieces would be twenty-four dollars." He raised the price in one go, cutting it in half.

Old Chen's eyes sharpened again as he stared at He Yuzhu, seemingly trying to discern something from his face. But He Yuzhu remained unfazed, his gaze calm, showing no sign of backing down.

The atmosphere became tense for a moment. Old Gui stood to the side, not daring to even breathe. He knew this deal was risky, but also highly profitable. He only hoped that the two sides could reach an agreement smoothly and that nothing unexpected would go wrong.

After a long pause, Old Chen slowly spoke: "You little rascal, you've got a black heart. But you're also tough. Here's what we'll do: three biscuits, fifteen silver dollars. And I'll give you something else too."

As he spoke, he pulled a worn copper coin from his pocket, on which was engraved a faint character for "righteousness." He placed the coin in front of He Yuzhu and said in a deep voice, "This copper coin is a token of our Pingxi Anti-Japanese Base Area. In the future, within the territory of Pingxi, you can ask us for help once if it is within your power. But remember, only once. And it cannot be used for personal gain."

Looking at the copper coin, He Yuzhu immediately understood the significance of this token. It was more than just a coin; it was a pass, a promise, a gesture of goodwill and cooperation from the armed forces. It was worth more than any silver coin he could ask for. It meant that in this chaotic world, he had a potential ally he could rely on.

Without the slightest hesitation, he reached out and picked up the copper coin, clutching it tightly in his hand. "Alright! Fifteen silver dollars, plus this token. Deal!"

Old Chen finally showed a slight expression of relaxation. He neatly stacked the fifteen silver dollars and pushed them in front of He Yuzhu. He Yuzhu quickly counted them, then carefully put away the silver dollars and copper coins respectively.

The transaction was complete. Old Chen stood up, dusted himself off, and his eyes became wary again. He whispered a reminder to He Yuzhu, "Young man, the detectives are cracking down hard lately, be careful when transporting goods. We're being followed too, we need to get going."

He Yuzhu's heart skipped a beat. He knew the detective team's search had never stopped, but he hadn't expected it to happen at this time, so close. He nodded to indicate that he understood.

No sooner had the words left his mouth than several sharp whistles suddenly pierced the brief tranquility of the ghost market from afar. Immediately afterward, a series of hurried footsteps approached.

"Oh no! It's the detective squad!" Old Gui's face changed drastically, and his voice trembled. He knew that if he were caught making a deal with the guerrillas, it would be a capital offense.

Old Chen reacted even faster. He didn't panic at all; his eyes narrowed, and he shouted, "Go!" He was the first to disappear into the complex alleyways deep within the ghost market.

He Yuzhu quickly rewrapped the oilcloth bundle and hugged it tightly to his chest. He glanced at Old Ghost, who was terrified and frantically packing up his stall. He Yuzhu didn't linger. He followed a concealed route he had already scouted, slipped into another narrow alley, and disappeared into the night in a few leaps.

The whistle grew closer, and the torchlight flickered at the alleyway entrance. The ghost market instantly descended into chaos, people scattering in all directions, shouts and cries filling the air. He Yuzhu, relying on his enhanced night-walking abilities and familiarity with the terrain, moved like an eel through the chaotic crowd and dark corners. He felt his adrenaline surge, but his mind remained unusually calm. He knew that only by surviving could he continue to make a difference.

Only after confirming he had completely shaken off the pursuers and was far from the ghost market area did He Yuzhu stop under a dilapidated courtyard wall, panting heavily. His heart was pounding, but his eyes gleamed with excitement. He had succeeded. He had not only obtained the much-needed funds, but more importantly, he had acquired that heavy copper coin token.

Back at the dilapidated temple, dawn was breaking. He Yuzhu carefully hid the fifteen silver dollars, then took out the copper coin token and examined it closely in his palm. The coin's cool touch seemed to carry a burning hope. He knew that this small coin would become the key to connecting him to a larger stage in the future. Looking at his sleeping mother and sister, he felt a surge of strength.