Courtyard Houses: From Bronze Compasses to Global Reach

Throughout August, Lin Yan traveled alone across Europe like a gust of wind.

He went south first. Standing on the edge of Mount Vesuvius, the soil beneath his feet radiated a faint warmth, like the earth's slumbering breath. Looking down at Pompeii, sealed by volcanic ash for millennia, he saw utter destruction, yet also an eternal treasure. At that moment, he touched upon a burning and majestic meaning—the fire of judgment.

It was late at night when he turned towards Mount Etna. Dark red lava slowly seeped from the fissures in the ridge, turning vegetation to ash in its wake, but also painting the night sky a magnificent crimson. He stood at a safe distance, watching the lava slowly cool and transform into new land, and suddenly realized that next year this place would nurture even more lush vegetation. Destruction and creation, it turns out, are always two sides of the same coin. This is the fire of life.

In the Eiffel Mountains of Germany, the scenery is much more serene. Until, in a valley, he inadvertently placed his hand on a seemingly ordinary rock, and felt a warmth emanating from deep within, a warmth that hadn't dissipated for millennia. The nearby clear lake, thanks to hidden volcanic activity, remains unfrozen year-round. The most powerful forces often choose to lie dormant in silence. This is the fire within.

Finally, he arrived in Santorini. Standing atop a high cliff, before him lay the classic blue and white cathedral and the azure Aegean Sea—all built upon the ruins of a prehistoric supervolcanic eruption. Ultimate beauty is born from ultimate destruction; civilization, faced with the might of nature, learned humility and rebirth. He felt the fire of rebirth.

The essence of fire has been achieved.

He then turned north to search for traces of ice.

At the foot of the Jungfrau in Switzerland, he stood before the ancient glacier. Time seemed to freeze there, with only the whisper of the wind and the occasional crack of ice. It was a profound silence that left one speechless.

In Tyrol, Austria, snow-capped peaks stretch endlessly, their pristine beauty under the sunlight untouched by any impurity. The vastness of the landscape made him feel as insignificant as a speck of dust, yet his soul was cleansed by this boundless purity.

The Dolomites in Italy present a different kind of ice. The rugged white peaks are like works of art sculpted by nature from ice and stone, magnificent and solitary, piercing the sky.

He traveled all the way north, to the edge of the world.

On Vatnajökull Glacier in Iceland, he trekked across this wild, icy plain. Life here exists in its most resilient form—moss clings tightly to the black volcanic rock, stubbornly spreading in the extreme cold. The most tenacious resilience is born from the extreme harshness.

In Svalbard, Norway, standing before the massive polar ice cap, he felt an eternal coldness, as if time had come to an end. This is the end of the world, where winter is the only dominant theme.

The imagery of ice is also achieved.

At the end of August, Lin Yan returned to his London residence. He sat calmly by the window and poured a glass of water. His left hand lightly touched the rim of the glass, and a wisp of extremely cold air swept across it, causing a thin layer of ice to condense on the surface of the water at a visible speed.

At the same time, with his right palm facing upwards and a slight thought, a small orange flame quietly ignited at his fingertips with a "poof," steady and warm.

Fire and ice, these two diametrically opposed forces, had achieved a perfect balance within him. Feeling the two newly lit red and white spots of light beside the illusory human figure, a surge of satisfaction welled up within him; only the final step remained!

With the start of the school year fast approaching, Lin Yan had no choice but to activate his flying sword and speed back to New York. Upon returning to his Upper East Side villa, he immediately moved Lin Gang, Yu Ling, and the curled-up Xiao Qi out of his spatial storage. This full-speed sword flight had truly exhausted him; his inner energy was almost depleted, and he was overcome with drowsiness. Too tired to utter a single word, he dragged his weary body straight upstairs and practically collapsed onto his pillow, falling into a deep sleep.

After practicing the piano diligently at home for two days, Lin Yan's heart, which had just returned from its wanderings, not only failed to calm down but became even more restless and depressed.

The piano was alright, but the moment he picked up the violin, its dry, harsh tone made him frown. No matter how much he practiced, his skill remained the same; each bow stroke felt like a reminder, "That's all you're capable of." When he lost control again on a high note, producing a sound like fingernails scraping glass, he gave up completely.

"Never mind," he tossed the violin back into its case, "Let's go play ball with Tom and Mike."

This thing is much harder to grasp than comprehend any concept of ice and fire.

At four o'clock in the afternoon, Lin Yan appeared at Madison Square Garden on time. Tom and Mike, who were warming up, rushed over to him like hounds that had found a bone as soon as they saw him.

"Aww—Lin! You're finally back!"

Two tall figures were about to pounce on him, so Lin Yan quickly reached out and braced himself against their chests: "Stop, stop, stop!" It took him a lot of effort to break free from their enthusiastic bear hug, and his jersey was torn askew.

"That's enough," he straightened his collar, amusedly watching his two friends still exchanging winks and glances. "You're pretending to miss me so much, but you really just want to know if I brought a gift, right?"

"Come on, let me see if you two have slacked off these past two months." Lin Yan crossed his arms, deliberately put on a stern face, and scanned his two friends with his eyes. "If you've regressed, you won't get the gift."

"Ouch, Lin! You're a devil!" Mike and Tom immediately wailed, their expressions exaggerated as if it were the end of the world.

Lin Yan ignored their antics and turned to walk to the sidelines, smiling as he greeted Coach Holt and the two assistant coaches.

For the rest of the afternoon, the gym was filled with Tom and Mike's panting pleas for mercy. Lin Yan showed no mercy, training them until their legs felt like lead, until they were dragged to the locker room by the assistant coach, one on each side, like two exhausted dogs.

After a thoroughly enjoyable workout, Lin Yan's pent-up restlessness finally dissipated, replaced by a sense of clarity and tranquility.

He wiped his sweat and thought to himself with a sense of relief: Indeed, exercise is the best way to relieve stress.

It's just... a bit of a hassle for friends.

After showering, the three of them strolled leisurely back to Lin Yan's house, feeling refreshed. To appease his two resentful friends who had been "tortured" all afternoon, Lin Yan agreed to treat them to an authentic Chinese meal at his home.

On the way, they shared their summer experiences, and Lin Yan also mentioned a few interesting things that happened in Europe. They arrived home amidst laughter and conversation. The butler, Charles, was already waiting at the door and greeted Mike and Tom warmly.

Lin Yan went upstairs and brought out handmade chocolates and French madeleine cakes that he had specially brought back from Europe. The two of them immediately lit up: "Lin! You're amazing!"

Hearing the noise, Xiao Qi, who was lying on the sofa, lazily wagged its tail at the two of them as a greeting.

The three of them took Xiaoqi to the backyard lawn to play catch. The setting sun cast long shadows until Yuling leaned out of the kitchen window and called out to them:

"Dinner's ready! I made braised pork belly and sweet and sour pork ribs tonight—"