Courtyard Houses: From Bronze Compasses to Global Reach

Late spring of 1980, Hong Kong

Lin Yi handed a slip of paper to Lin San beside him, which read: "Settle down in China."

"You are to carry out the young master's wishes."

Lin San took the note without saying a word. He was the person in charge of the Lin family in mainland China, and it was up to him to figure out how to establish these "roots".

April, Central, Hong Kong.

The aroma of tea wafted through Mr. Chen Daisun's apartment. Lin San arrived without any attendants, carrying only a box of pre-Qingming Longjing tea.

"Mr. Chen, I am Lin San, and I apologize for disturbing you."

Old Chen invited him to sit, his gaze behind his glasses calm. "The Lin family. What business do you have with this old man?"

"The Lin family would like to invite you to take the helm." Lin San gently placed the draft articles of association of the foundation on the coffee table. "It will be called the 'Lin's China Technology Development Foundation.' We will not do business, but only two things: donate teaching equipment to domestic universities and sponsor promising young people to go abroad and broaden their horizons."

Old Chen opened the regulations and read them slowly. "Where will this money come from?"

"The Lin family will provide it. The initial five million US dollars has already been opened in a special account at HSBC." Lin San paused, "This money will only be used for educational donations. You have complete control over where every penny goes."

"Why are you looking for me?"

"Because of your distinguished reputation," Lin San said bluntly. "You have students at Tsinghua and Peking Universities, and the academic community recognizes you. When you're at the helm, no one will say it's just a business transaction."

Old Chen took off his glasses and slowly wiped them. "Equipment... what are you donating?"

"A microcomputer. The Lin family developed something new last year. It can be programmed and can solve problems. It's a hundred times better than a calculator." Lin San took out several photos from his briefcase. They were of machines in the Penang laboratory. "How can children build the future if they haven't seen it? We'll send a few of these 'eyes' in there."

Old Chen stared at the photo for a long time before speaking. "The road ahead is difficult. The storm has just eased, and many people are still looking."

"That's why it's even more important to walk the right path." Lin San refilled his tea. "The foundation only focuses on academic research, not business operations. You are the chairman, and the people who actually run the errands below us are all from Southeast Asia, with clean technical backgrounds."

He picked up his teacup, then put it down again. Old Chen pointed to the cover of the articles of association.

"What does the clause in the regulations, 'Funded individuals must submit detailed academic backgrounds and social connections,' mean?"

"For the long term," Lin Sanhao said frankly, "the people we send out must be truly promising scholars. We need to understand their family backgrounds, their teachers, and their relationships with classmates. Otherwise, sending out a playboy would be a waste of the country's foreign exchange reserves and would also tarnish your reputation."

That's very true. Old Chen glanced at Lin San and finally nodded.

"Let me take a look. I'll get back to you next month."

June, Tsinghua University Main Building.

The donation ceremony was simple, even somewhat austere. Three trucks were parked in front of the building, and workers carefully unloaded wooden crates. School leaders, department heads, and dozens of student representatives stood by.

Lin San and Old Chen stood side by side. The school leader gave a speech, thanking the "patriotic overseas Chinese for their sincere love for their country." Old Chen said a few words of encouragement and then handed the microphone to Lin San.

Lin San stepped forward, his gaze sweeping over the young faces.

"Students, machines are inanimate, but people are alive. What the Lin family has brought us today is not twenty computers, but twenty windows. What lies outside those windows is for you to see, think, and explore for yourselves."

He paused for a moment, then announced, "I hereby announce the launch of the Lin's Young Scholar Award today. We will send ten people abroad each year to learn cutting-edge knowledge. There is only one requirement—after completing their studies, they must return. Because the world here will inevitably be broader than the outside world."

Thunderous applause erupted from the group of students. Several bolder boys had already gathered around the machine that was opening the box, their eyes shining.

After the ceremony, school leaders accompanied Lin San and Chen Lao on a tour of the newly set-up computer room. Twenty machines were neatly arranged, their monitors emitting a faint green light.

"Mr. Lin, this is truly a lifesaver," the department head exclaimed. "Our current textbooks are still stuck in the transistor era. Students have never seen the real thing, so no matter how much theory we teach, it's all empty talk."

"Director, we will be responsible for equipment maintenance for three years," Lin San said. "In addition, the foundation will send you photocopies of the latest technical journals from Hong Kong every month, including the IEEE Transactions and ACM Communications."

The department head's hand trembled slightly. "This...this is incredibly precious!"

"Knowledge should not have barriers," Lin San smiled. "It's just that photocopying and mailing take time, so it will be two months later than the original. Please bear with me."

As we walked out of the main building, Old Chen said with a smile, "You put it so well. 'The world here will eventually be bigger than the outside world.' Young people love to hear that, and I, an old man, love to hear it too."

Lin San looked at the students running on the playground in the distance and said, "Teacher Chen, this isn't just empty talk. Believe it or not, in fifteen years at most, this place will produce talents that are no less than those in Silicon Valley."

Old Chen didn't reply, but simply patted him on the shoulder.

August, Luohu District, Shenzhen.

The scorching sun had turned the soil white. Lin San stood on a newly leveled patch of land, with clumps of wild grass scattered around his feet. In the distance, he could see scattered farmland, and further still, barbed wire—that was Hong Kong.

"Right here." He pointed to a drab three-story building. The building was old, originally a warehouse of the commune, with peeling paint and few intact windows.

The Hong Kong manager who came with him frowned: "Mr. Lin, isn't this place too...desolate? Should we wait for the new buildings in Futian?"

"I can't wait." Lin San walked straight towards the small building. "The special economic zone was just approved, and this is the first place to put up a sign for a foreign-invested representative office. It's special. It's better to be desolate and low-key."

He walked into the building, dust swirling in the beams of light. The ground floor was empty, the concrete floor uneven and pitted.

"We'll turn the first floor into a showroom to display our product prototypes. The second floor will be offices, divided into six small rooms. The third floor will be dormitories for our dispatched personnel."

As Lin San walked, he said, "We'll repaint all the walls white, rewire the electrical wiring, and replace the windows with aluminum alloy ones. But we'll make it look older from the outside, and the sign will be smaller and just hang it on the side of the door."

"What should the sign say?"

"Lin Group China Affairs Representative Office." Lin San thought for a moment, "Add the English name too, and make the font one size smaller."

In Beijing, the liaison office was located at the Friendship Hotel. The person in charge was called Lao Zhou, a man in his early fifties. He used to be a second secretary at a foreign ministry mission, but retired due to health problems and was then recruited by the Lin family. He spoke slowly, but every word he uttered hit the nail on the head.

When Lin San went to Beijing to see him, Lao Zhou was sorting through a stack of letters.

"This is the first month's work briefing."

Old Zhou handed it over, "There are three parts in total: policy trends, key personnel changes, and a list of units that are short of foreign exchange."

Lin San opened it.

The policy section states: "The focus of the science and technology sector is shifting towards 'military-civilian integration,' and the Ministry of Electronics Industry may be considering a reorganization." The personnel section details the newly appointed deputy directors of the State Science and Technology Commission and the State Education Commission, including their resumes and rumored backgrounds.

The list included seven research institutes and three state-owned factories, with each institute indicating the amount of foreign exchange it urgently needed and its intended use.

"How were they collected?" Lin asked.

Old Zhou smiled and said, "We accompany them for drinks, chess games, and walks in the park. These directors and section chiefs are human too, and they have their own difficulties. Their children want to study abroad, their relatives back home are sick and want to see Western doctors, their projects are stuck in foreign exchange approval... We can't help them much, but we can still make connections and pass on a message."

He paused for a moment, then continued, "But Mr. Lin, rest assured, we won't do anything illegal or disorderly. All information is publicly available; I just took a few extra notes and thought about it a bit more than others."

Lin Sanhe gave a briefing.

"Starting next month, we will focus on the movements of the Ministry of Electronics Industry and the Ministry of Posts and Telecommunications. In particular, we will pay close attention to whether anyone mentions the term 'digital communications'."