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

The night was as dark as ink.

He Yuzhu walked down the mountain path.

He didn't take the main road, but chose the deserted paths.

His enhanced physique allows him to walk at night. His eyesight is better than that of ordinary people, enabling him to distinguish silhouettes in the dark.

Half an hour later, he arrived at the mass grave in the western suburbs.

The wind blew by, stirring up the ashes of the paper money.

The mounds of earth, bathed in moonlight, resembled silent wild beasts.

Xu Fugui once said that the ghost market was located in the deepest part of this chaotic graveyard, in a depression called "Hundred Bone Pit".

He Yuzhu slowed his pace.

He saw scattered lights in the distance.

It's a ghost market.

He didn't go directly there. He went around to a high slope, lay down in the snow, and observed.

There were dozens of people in the hollow.

Most people were wearing hats or had their faces covered with cloth.

The ground was covered with cloth and various items were laid out.

Antiques, calligraphy and paintings, old jewelry, and some bottles and jars that are hard to see clearly.

The trading was quiet.

The buyer walked over and pointed at the item. The seller held up a few fingers to indicate the price.

There was no bargaining.

If you agree, pay and take the goods. If you disagree, leave.

The entire market was shrouded in silence, with only whispers and occasional murmurs.

He Yuzhu observed for ten minutes.

He understood.

He tore a strip of cloth from his pocket and covered his mouth and nose, leaving only his eyes exposed.

Then he walked down the slope and blended into the crowd.

His ten-year-old figure stood out conspicuously among these adults.

Several pairs of eyes immediately fell on him.

Be vigilant and scrutinize.

He Yuzhu ignored them. He kept his eyes straight ahead and, like everyone else, strolled around slowly.

He saw a stall with several daggers and gun parts on display.

The stall owner was a one-eyed man, exuding a menacing aura.

He saw another stall where a man in a long gown was selling several bottles of Western medicine.

penicillin.

He Yuzhu's eyes lit up.

He walked over.

"How much?" he asked in a low voice.

The man in the long robe glanced at him and held up two fingers.

"Two small yellow croakers?" He Yuzhu asked.

The man nodded.

It's too expensive. He can't afford it.

He could only keep searching.

He needs to exchange the money first.

He walked up to a stall selling secondhand goods.

The stall owner was a lean old man. His hair was gray, but his eyes were bright, like an eagle's.

He didn't have much on his stall. A few pocket watches, a few snuff bottles, and some odds and ends of jewelry.

But the people around him seemed a little afraid of him. They would walk around his stall.

He Yuzhu felt that this person should be a key figure.

He stopped.

The old man glanced at him briefly, but didn't say anything.

He Yuzhu took the pocket watch out of his pocket and handed it over.

The casing is silver and engraved with cherry blossom patterns.

The old man took the pocket watch, opened the cover, and glanced at it.

His expression changed slightly.

He brought the pocket watch to his ear and listened to the sound of its movement.

Then he put down his pocket watch and looked at He Yuzhu.

"Japanese goods." The old man's voice was very low, only the two of them could hear it, "Young man, your methods are a bit unorthodox."

He Yuzhu's heart tightened.

That old man is an expert. He could tell at a glance.

These were the issued items for Japanese officers.

"It was left by my elders at home," He Yuzhu said, using a prepared excuse. "I urgently need money; it's a lifesaver."

The old man stared into his eyes.

He Yuzhu did not dodge.

I stared at it for a full five seconds.

The old man looked away.

He held up three fingers.

"Thirty silver dollars."

This price isn't high, but it's not low either. It's very fair.

"Deal." He Yuzhu nodded.

The old man counted out thirty silver dollars from a tattered leather box next to him, wrapped them in cloth, and handed them to him.

He Yuzhu took it and weighed it in his hand. The weight was right.

He put the money in his pocket.

He turned to leave.

"Young man," the old man suddenly spoke again.

He Yuzhu turned around.

The old man glanced at his chest.

"If there are any more of these 'old things' in the future, you can come find me again," the old man said. "My surname is Gui, and people call me Old Gui."

He Yuzhu understood.

That old devil figured out he still had some goods on him.

Or perhaps they suspect he owns more than one watch.

"I've got it." He Yuzhu nodded and turned to leave.

He didn't linger and went straight to the stall selling Western medicine.

But as he approached, he noticed a person standing in front of the stall.

The man was making a deal with the man in the long robe.

The figure looked somewhat familiar.

He Yuzhu stopped and hid behind a stall selling secondhand furniture.

After the transaction was completed, the man turned around.

The moonlight illuminated his face.

It is Xu Fugui.

He held a small medicine bottle in his hand and carefully tucked it into his pocket.

He Yuzhu was stunned.

What's Xu Fugui doing here?

Shouldn't he be in the courtyard house?

Xu Fugui didn't see He Yuzhu. He lowered his head and walked hurriedly towards the exit of the ghost market.

He Yuzhu's mind raced.

There are only two possibilities for Xu Fugui's appearance here.

First, he was also there to sell stolen goods or buy something.

Second, he might be looking for someone. Or perhaps he's spying on someone.

Regardless of the reason, this means that Xu Fugui is not as simple as he appears on the surface.

He Yuzhu didn't move.

He waited until Xu Fugui had gone far away before coming out from behind the stall.

He walked up to the medicine stall.

The man in the long robe saw him and held up two fingers.

"Two small yellow croakers and a bottle of penicillin."

He Yuzhu is rich now, but he still can't afford it.

"Do you have any cheaper fever reducers?" he asked.

The man in the long robe thought for a moment and took out another small bottle from the box.

"Aspirin. German-made. Ten yuan a bottle."

"One bottle, please."

He Yuzhu counted out ten silver dollars.

The man handed him the medicine bottle.

He then bought a bag of flour and a small piece of cured meat for five silver dollars at another food stall.

He now only has fifteen silver dollars left.

But he had obtained everything that could save his life.

He wrapped the things up, put them in his pocket, and prepared to leave.

He had to get back to the dilapidated temple before dawn.

He had just stepped out of the ghost market area and turned into a small grove of trees.

A figure emerged from behind the tree and blocked his way.

"Pillar?"

It is Xu Fugui.

He didn't leave. He was waiting for He Yuzhu.