Siheyuan: Reborn Silly Pillar, Taking Control of the Entire Courtyard

At the dinner table, the plate of glistening, oily pig's trotters remained untouched.

Chen Lanxiang put the plate back in the cupboard, wiped her hands, and said, "I'll save it to stew with radishes tomorrow morning. Stew it until it's soft and tender; both kids love it."

Xu Damao shoveled rice into his bowl without even lifting his eyelids—these past few days, with He Yuzhu's family cooking special meals for him, stewing meat and making pancakes in rotation, the child's stomach was already full of oil and grease, so he didn't crave these few bites of meat.

After dinner, they rested in the main room for about half a cup of tea's time. He Daqing touched his pipe and said to the two children, "Come on, let's practice in the backyard."

He Yuzhu put down the comic book in his hand, got up and followed, while Xu Damao jumped three feet high and followed behind, his little leather shoes making a "clattering" sound on the ground.

It was already completely dark when a lantern hung from the old locust tree in the backyard. Its dim yellow light cast dappled shadows on the ground, swaying gently in the wind.

He Daqing had Xu Damao stand in the lamplight, placed his rough hands on Xu's arm, pressed down along the thin arm, applied a little pressure with his fingertips at the elbow joint, then moved to the shoulder blade to gently knead, and finally stroked down the spine from top to bottom.

"His bone structure isn't exceptional, and his talent is only average."

He Daqing withdrew his hand, spat into his palm, and rubbed it.

"But diligence can make up for lack of talent. Practicing martial arts can strengthen the body and help protect oneself if one encounters scoundrels or ruffians in the future."

Xu Damao listened intently, his little face tense, his eyelashes casting short shadows under the light. He clenched his little fists, his voice crisp and clear.

"Uncle He, I'm not afraid of hardship! I'll stand in the stake for as long as you want, and I can also chop wood and carry water!"

"That's ambitious." He Daqing nodded and took a stance to demonstrate.

"Feet shoulder-width apart, knees slightly bent, back straight, shoulders relaxed and elbows dropped... Yes, just like that."

Xu Damao stood in the same position as him. At first, he could hold his nerve, but after less than three minutes, his legs started to sway and his body swayed from side to side like a rootless blade of grass.

He Yuzhu watched from the side with his arms crossed. He had been learning boxing from his father since he was a child, and his basic skills were already solid. What He Daqing was going to teach him now was practical fighting techniques.

But when he watched Xu Damao practice standing meditation, he still squinted and carefully observed his father's gestures and key points of exertion—he would be supervising the boy's studies from now on, so he had to figure out the details first.

The wind in the courtyard was getting colder and colder, and it felt like tiny knives on my face.

The three of them practiced in the courtyard for a full hour. Xu Damao's face was red from the cold, fine beads of sweat hung on the tip of his nose, his legs were shaking like a leaf, and his teeth were clenched so tightly that they made a clattering sound, but he didn't utter a single word about giving up.

He Daqing glanced at the waning moon on the horizon, raised his hand and said, "Alright, that's enough for today, we'll practice again tomorrow."

After finishing his practice, he headed towards the main house. Just as he turned the corner through the moon gate, he bumped into Zhao Cuifeng, who was returning from outside carrying a cloth bag.

She has sharp eyes and immediately noticed the sweat on her son's forehead and the calluses on He Daqing's hands. She immediately came over with a smile on her face.

"Uncle He, are you teaching Da Mao how to box?"

"Just some casual practice to improve my health," He Daqing replied casually.

Zhao Cuifeng's eyes lit up, and she pulled Xu Damao towards He Daqing, speaking warmly.

"Uncle He, look at Da Mao, this kid is honest and hardworking. Why don't you take him on as your apprentice? We'll follow the rules, the formal apprenticeship ceremony is definitely in order!"

He Daqing frowned slightly and shook his head, saying, "I will never accept formal disciples in my life; I will only pass on the essence of my boxing techniques to my own son."

He paused, glanced at Xu Damao's expectant eyes, and added.

"If you don't mind, you can become my disciple. I'll teach you some basic skills that will be enough for self-defense."

Zhao Cuifeng was overjoyed and no longer complained. She quickly pulled Xu Damao to kowtow.

"A nominal disciple is fine too! That's wonderful! As soon as his father returns from out of town, we'll hold a grand apprenticeship ceremony!"

He Daqing wanted to decline, but when he caught a glimpse of He Yuzhu beside him, he thought to himself – he only had one son, and it would be good to have more people to help him in this compound in the future.

He raised his hand to help Xu Damao, who was about to kowtow, and said in a deep voice, "No need to rush to kowtow, just practice hard from now on."

Back inside, Chen Lanxiang had already boiled water and dismissed He Yuzhu.

"You've had a long day, go back inside and rest. You have to get up early tomorrow."

He Yuzhu responded, but he had other ideas in mind—he needed to get enough rest, as he had important business to attend to tonight.

Lying on the kang (a heated brick bed), He Yuzhu closed his eyes, but his mind was in turmoil.

The location of Mitsui & Co., Ltd., the tasks issued by the system, the national treasures looted by the petty thieves...

Each thought was crystal clear.

He knew he had to go tonight; otherwise, things might get complicated.

At ten o'clock at night, He Yuzhu quietly opened his eyes. The room was pitch black, and it was so quiet outside that he could hear the distant barking of dogs.

He dressed quietly, his movements as light as a cat's, afraid of waking his parents next door.

He pushed open the door, and a cold wind rushed in, carrying the chill of a winter night. He pulled his collar tighter and quickly disappeared into the night.

He had already hidden a wooden ladder at the base of the courtyard wall, which he had prepared specifically during the day.

He set up the ladder, nimbly climbed up, touched the top of the wall with his toes, and silently flipped over.

After landing, he took out a bicycle from the system space, stepped on it, and pushed off with his feet. The wheels rolled over the bluestone road, making only a very light "rustling" sound.

The destination was the Mitsui & Co. building in Wangfujing. The road was not peaceful; patrols were frequently encountered—some young men in yellow military uniforms, and others accompanied by black dogs who acted like bullies.

He Yuzhu walked close to the shadows at the base of the wall, his heartbeat steady, his breathing light and slow.

Once, a patrol team passed by him, only two meters away. He held his breath and remained motionless under the cover of the corner of the wall until the team had gone far away. Only then did he breathe a sigh of relief and continue on his way.

After finally reaching the outside of Wangfujing Street, He Yuzhu put the bicycle into his spatial storage and crept along the wall toward the backyard of the Mitsui & Co.

The night was thick with darkness, and the moon was obscured by thick clouds, revealing only a pale halo that barely allowed the outlines of the buildings to be discerned.

He moved slowly along the cold wall like a shadow, his ears alertly listening to the sounds around him.

Just as he was about to take out a ladder to climb over the wall, he suddenly heard a light footstep in the yard.

The footsteps were light, but the rhythm was steady, and they landed silently, clearly not the footsteps of an ordinary person.

He Yuzhu immediately lowered his body, curled up in the shadows of the corner, and held his breath.

About half a minute later, a dark figure suddenly jumped over the wall.

The man carried a bulging bundle on his back and moved with astonishing speed. He lightly touched the top of the wall with his toes and leaped onto the roof like a willow catkin. He took a few steps along the eaves and reached the ridge of the roof before disappearing into the darkness.

The whole process took only a dozen seconds, so fast it was dazzling.

He Yuzhu's pupils contracted slightly, and he was secretly shocked: it was a master thief, and an extremely skilled one at that.

His heart skipped a beat—what had happened inside? Was what he was looking for still there?

He quickly brought up the system panel and saw that the task was still there. His heart was finally at ease. It seemed that the most precious thing had not been taken away yet.

After squatting in the corner for another five minutes to make sure there was no other movement around, He Yuzhu took out a ladder, quickly climbed over the wall, set up the ladder in the yard, and quietly climbed down. Then he quickly put the ladder away and stored it in his spatial storage.

The backyard was larger than he had imagined, about the size of a basketball court.

Several vehicles were parked in the yard: a military truck, a sidecar motorcycle, and a rare two-wheeled motorcycle, with several bicycles and tricycles parked nearby.

He Yuzhu's eyes lit up, and without any hesitation, he raised his hand and waved it, putting all the vehicles into the system space—these things would be useful in the future.

He crouched down and crept towards the main room, pushed the door, and found it unlocked—presumably because the thief hadn't had time to lock it when he left.

He slipped inside, gently closed the door behind him, took out the mini flashlight given to him by the system from his pocket, covered it with a black cloth, leaving only a dim yellow light, barely enough to see the furnishings inside.

There were a few tables and chairs in the main room, all ordinary furniture that wasn't worth much money.

He walked down the corridor into the inner room, and as soon as he reached the door, he smelled a faint fragrance, so sweet it was cloying and made him dizzy.

He frowned, knowing it was sleeping gas.

The flashlight beam swept across the bed and revealed two naked people, a man and a woman, fast asleep.

He Yuzhu stepped forward and checked their breathing; they were still breathing. He shone his flashlight on the man's face and saw his appearance clearly—he had a mustache and was dressed like a young man.

A surge of anger welled up inside him, and he clenched his fists, exerting force in his hands.

"Click".

"Click".

Two soft cracking sounds, clean and crisp.

After dealing with the two men, he began searching the room, taking everything that could move—clothes, money, and ornaments—and storing it all in his spatial storage. In the blink of an eye, only two pale corpses remained lying on the empty bed.

He then went to the main hall and side rooms, searching each room one by one.

There were eight young samurai hidden in the side room, all dressed in ronin attire. Several katana were piled up in the corner, presumably guards of the trading company.

Several other guys were also knocked unconscious by the sleeping gas.

He Yuzhu showed no mercy, snapping their necks one by one with swift, precise, and ruthless movements, without the slightest hesitation.

They searched the entire building, but still couldn't find the entrance to the secret room.

He figured that since the thief had risked coming in, he must have gotten what he wanted, and he must have found the entrance to the secret room.

Unwilling to give up, He Yuzhu searched through the woodshed and side rooms again, and finally found something unusual in a small side room near the outhouse.

He put all the clutter in the room into his storage space, leaving only a large leaf lock lying alone on the floor.

The dust on that patch of ground was noticeably less than in other areas; it was square, approximately four square meters.

He tapped it with his hand, and a metallic "thump-thump" sound came from below.

"Found it."

He Yuzhu was secretly delighted. He squatted down and examined the keyhole closely. There were several fine scratches on it, clearly indicating that it had been pried open with a tool—presumably the work of the thief from earlier.

"These thieves are really quite skilled these days," he thought to himself, taking out the lock-picking tools the system had given him.

Various lock-picking methods and techniques instantly flashed through his mind. He selected the most suitable thin needle and slowly inserted it into the keyhole.

He felt a subtle touch on his fingertips and carefully manipulated the lock cylinder inside, holding his breath and concentrating intently. Thirty seconds later, a soft "click" sounded, and the lock opened.

He threw the lock into the space, grabbed the edge of the metal cover with both hands, and lifted it forcefully, revealing a downward-sloping step underneath, dark and bottomless.

He Yuzhu took out a Browning 1911 pistol, gently pulled the bolt to chamber a round, held a flashlight covered by a cloth in one hand and the pistol in the other, and walked down step by step.

As He Yuzhu reached the bottom of the steps and shone his flashlight forward, he couldn't help but gasp.

The space below is astonishingly large, about three or four hundred square meters, with a ceiling height of over four meters. The entire underground area of ​​the courtyard has been hollowed out and turned into a secret warehouse.

The ground was neatly covered with boxes, tall and short, long and square, stretching as far as the eye could see.

He Yuzhu stepped forward, opened the nearest box, which was full of silver dollars, stacked tightly and gleaming with a metallic sheen.

He then opened another box next to him, which contained more silver dollars.

He changed direction and opened a mahogany box. The golden light dazzled his eyes instantly—inside were rows and rows of gold bars, neatly stacked and heavy.

Further inside, the boxes were filled with an even more diverse array of items: exquisite porcelain, warm and lustrous jade, dazzling jewelry, and antique calligraphy and paintings.

What shocked him most were several huge wooden boxes containing bronze artifacts—anciently shaped ding (tripod cauldron), neatly arranged chime bells, and other objects he couldn't identify, all of which were clearly priceless.

He Yuzhu's heart sank little by little, and a chill ran from the soles of his feet to the top of his head.

These guys are really ruthless. This is just one batch of treasures they've looted. Over the years, who knows how many more national treasures they've secretly taken away and ended up overseas.

He gritted his teeth, his anger rising even higher. The few people he had just killed up there were far too easy for them.

In another corner of the warehouse, a large number of weapons were piled up.

The boxes of submachine guns are in the style of the Prussian MP series. Although the specific models are not identified, they look like they have fierce firepower.

There were also boxes of melon-shaped grenades, Type 38 rifles, and even several mortars and boxes of shells, all neatly piled up there.

Without further hesitation, He Yuzhu began to empty the underground warehouse.

He reached out, and everything he touched—whether it was gold and silver jewelry, cultural relics and paintings, or weapons and ammunition—vanished instantly and were stored in the system space.

A few minutes later, the entire underground warehouse was completely empty, without even a speck of dust remaining.

Back on the ground, he headed straight for the shop in front.

There were four young employees in the shop who had been drugged with sleeping powder. He Yuzhu showed no mercy and snapped their necks one by one, leaving only their loincloths on.

Then he began to loot the shop: money in the counter, rice, flour, cooking oil, cloth, cotton, needles, thread, cigarettes, alcohol, sugar, tea...

Nothing useful was left behind; everything was stored in the space.

Looking at the empty Mitsui & Co. building, with nothing of any decent quality inside or outside, He Yuzhu nodded in satisfaction.

He crept along the wall and carefully slipped out through the back door. He looked around; the street was deserted, and the patrol team hadn't arrived yet.

He took out his bicycle, hopped on, and pushed off with all his might. The wheels spun rapidly, and his figure quickly disappeared into the vast night.

On the way, he deliberately avoided areas with dense patrols, and relying on his familiarity with the terrain, he returned to the compound safely.

He stopped at the hanging flower gate in the middle courtyard and listened carefully to the sounds. The courtyard was deathly silent, with only the occasional snores.

He quietly returned to his side room, pushed open the door, slipped inside, and gently closed the door behind him, without making a sound throughout the entire process.