Courtyard House: Time Traveler Not Yet a Ghost

Seven days.

It took He Damin and his family seven days to travel from Beijing to the Guangdong-Hong Kong border.

Train, car, mule cart, on foot... after changing four or five modes of transportation, crossing the biting cold winds of the North China Plain and the continuous rain on both sides of the Yangtze River, we finally arrived at the small fishing village on the Guangdong-Hong Kong border, a place whose name is almost impossible to find on the map, at dusk on the seventh day.

The fishing village was small, with dozens of households scattered along the coast. The houses were low and dilapidated, mostly with walls plastered with a mixture of yellow mud and straw, and roofs covered with blackened tiles, with light still seeping through in many places. The sea breeze carried a salty, fishy smell and the damp chill unique to the sea. At the entrance of the village stood an old banyan tree, its trunk so thick that three or four people couldn't wrap their arms around it. Its branches and leaves blocked out the sun, casting a large, dark shadow in the setting sun, which became a good place for the villagers to rest.

He Damin had He Yuzhu unload the luggage at a fisherman's house he had arranged beforehand. The fisherman's house was even more rudimentary, a low mud house, dimly lit, with an uneven floor, fishing nets and some miscellaneous items piled in the corner, and the air was filled with the smell of the sea and a faint musty odor. He Damin himself stood under the old banyan tree, gazing at the barbed wire fence in the distance.

The barbed wire wasn't very high, it was rusty, and in some places it was crooked, but it was like an invisible boundary, separating two worlds.

On the other side of the barbed wire fence is Hong Kong.

As dusk settled, shimmering waves rippled across the sea, and the distant sky was tinged with orange-red before slowly deepening to a deep blue. He Yushui peered curiously through the creaking wooden window of the fishermen's house, watching them haul in their nets on the beach. The fishermen, with their dark skin and patched, coarse cloth jackets, deftly dragged their nets ashore, the fish and shrimp inside leaping and splashing. In the distance, the faint glow of fishing lights flickered gently with the waves.

"Uncle, how long do we have to wait here?" He Yushui turned around and asked in a low voice.

"We're waiting for someone." He Damin's gaze went beyond the barbed wire fence, landing in the distance. "Once he arrives, we can cross over."

Edward Lawrence was two hours late for the appointed time.

He Damin wasn't in a hurry. He let Chen Xueru take Qin Huairu and the children to rest at the fisherman's house—there wasn't much to sit on, so they squeezed onto the only old wooden bed. He, He Yuzhu, and He Daqing stood under the old banyan tree, quietly watching the barbed wire fence. The night wind was exceptionally cool, blowing like knives on their faces, and all three of them wrapped their clothes tightly around themselves.

Just after nine o'clock in the evening, a black sedan drove up from the other side of the barbed wire fence, its headlights casting two bright beams of light in the night, piercing the tranquility of the fishing village. The car stopped briefly at the checkpoint, and after a few simple checks, it was quickly let through, driving straight to the old banyan tree.

The car door opened, and Lawrence stepped out. He was dressed in a well-pressed dark suit, wore gold-rimmed glasses, his hair was neatly combed, and his leather shoes were polished to a shine. He seemed out of place in this dilapidated little fishing village, as if he came from another world.

"Mr. He!" He walked over quickly, extended his hands, and smiled apologetically. "I'm so sorry to have kept you waiting. The customs procedures were a bit more complicated than I expected."

He Damin grasped his hand, nodded, and said nothing more.

"Did you bring all the documents?"

"I brought it." Lawrence took a thick manila envelope from his briefcase and handed it over. "All the documents you requested—the registration certificate of Spark Technology, copies of patent authorization certificates from various countries, HSBC account information, and…" He paused, lowered his voice, "entry documents prepared for you and your family are all in here."

He Damin took the envelope; it felt heavy in his hand. He didn't open it, but instead stuffed it into his pocket and placed it close to his body.

How many people can the car seat?

"With the driver, it can seat five people." Lawrence glanced at He Yuzhu and He Daqing behind He Damin. "But don't worry, I've arranged another car in Hong Kong, which will come over later. There are seven of you in your family, so it should be just enough."

He Damin nodded and turned to walk towards the fisherman's house.

Half an hour later, two black cars drove through the checkpoint one after the other and smoothly entered Hong Kong territory.

The moment I entered the country, the feeling was completely different. The roads were noticeably smoother, no longer the bumpy dirt roads. There were also more streetlights, although not as dense as in later times, but enough to illuminate the way ahead at night.

He Yushui pressed her face against the car window, her eyes wide open, her little head turning as she followed the scenery outside.

"Uncle, why are those lights so bright? Don't they turn them off at night?" she asked curiously, her voice full of surprise. In Beijing, apart from a few main streets and important places, there are hardly any lights on at night.

"Those are streetlights," He Damin's voice came from the front seat. "They're lit up here at night too, making it easier for people to walk and drive."

"It's so much brighter than Beijing..." He Yushui exclaimed softly, her little face full of wonder.

He Yuzhu also peered out the other car window, his eyes barely able to take it all in. He saw wide asphalt roads, not particularly wide, but smoother and cleaner than any of the forty-nine roads he had ever seen. Towering buildings lined the roadside, the tallest only seven or eight stories high, yet to him they seemed to reach the clouds. Colorful neon signs hung from rooftops and shop entrances, flashing and changing colors and patterns, illuminating half the sky. The streets were bustling with people, even at night, their clothing quite different from that inland—men wore suits and jackets; women wore various dresses and had permed hair. There were also many cars, all kinds of brands, mostly black, with some yellow taxis speeding by.

All of this was completely different from Beijing, and even more so from the counties and towns along the way; it was like another world altogether.

"Uncle," he couldn't help but ask, his voice tinged with a barely perceptible mix of nervousness and excitement, "is this Hong Kong?"

"Mm," He Damin responded.

"Wow...so lively," He Yuzhu murmured, his heart pounding uncontrollably. He felt like he couldn't take it all in, greedily taking in everything.

He Damin didn't reply, simply gazing silently ahead. Hong Kong, 1955—he had finally arrived. Hong Kong in this era was in the early stages of post-war economic recovery and development, like a rapidly growing teenager, full of vitality, opportunities, and challenges. On the streets, Chinese and English signs mingled, and Cantonese, English, and Mandarin with various accents could be heard frequently. The air seemed to be thick with the scent of money and bustling activity.

In the back seat, Qin Huairu held her sleeping son, Yu Liang, tightly, nervously watching the unfamiliar scenery outside the window. The tall buildings, cars, neon lights, and the stylish pedestrians all made her feel uneasy and lost; her lips were tightly pressed together. He Daqing held her hand, his palms sweaty. He was equally nervous, but tried to appear calm and offer Qin Huairu some comfort, remaining silent. Chen Xueru leaned back in her seat, her gaze calmly fixed ahead, her eyes holding curiosity, scrutiny, but mostly a serene acceptance of her surroundings.

The car drove through the bustling streets—the buildings were denser, and there were more shops, including department stores, clothing stores, and numerous restaurants, their entrances wafting with enticing aromas. Street vendors pushed carts selling various snacks, such as fish balls and egg waffles, attracting passersby to stop and buy. The hustle and bustle of people and vehicles, the sounds of horns, hawkers' cries, and music blending together, created a unique kind of vibrant noise.

Gradually, the car drove onto a road that gently sloped upwards. On both sides of the road, detached garden villas began to appear, a departure from the densely packed buildings of before. These villas were mostly two or three stories high, with red brick walls and sloping roofs, surrounded by green trees and flowers, appearing quiet and stylish. The streetlights were sparser, which only added to the tranquility.

"This is Victoria Peak," Lawrence explained, turning around from the front seat. His Mandarin had a slight accent, but it was fairly standard. "The house Mr. He bought when he last came here is not far ahead. But we're not staying there tonight—the house still needs some cleaning, and I've had someone clean it tomorrow. We'll stay at a hotel tonight and get some rest."

"A hotel?" He Yushui asked curiously, "What's a hotel?"

He Yuzhu didn't know either, but as a grown man, he was too embarrassed to ask questions like a younger sister.

Chen Xueru gently patted Yushui's shoulder and explained softly, "It's a place specifically for people who come from afar to stay, providing food and lodging."

"Like an inn?" He Yushui asked, seemingly understanding but not quite.

"Yes, it's bigger and better than the inn." Chen Xueru smiled.

The Peninsula Hotel.

When the two black cars slowly stopped in front of the hotel, He Yushui was completely speechless, her mouth agape as if she could fit an egg in it.

The best house she had ever seen was a prince's mansion in Beijing. He Damin had taken her there from afar when they strolled through Beihai Park, and she thought it was the most magnificent place in the world. But compared to the building in front of her, that mansion looked like a little brother.

The hotel's main building is a seven-story European-style structure, its off-white exterior gleaming softly and solemnly under the lights. The entrance features a grand arcade supported by several sturdy Roman columns, giving it a very imposing appearance. A doorman in a crisp uniform, wearing a tall hat, nimbly jogs over to open the car door, a standard smile on his face.

He Yushui was led out of the car by Chen Xueru. She looked up at the huge, slowly rotating glass door, at the dazzling lights shining through it, and at the people in gorgeous clothes who were speaking languages ​​she couldn't quite understand as they went in and out. She felt like she was dreaming, and her feet felt a little unsteady.

"This way, please." Lawrence led the way, his posture respectful.

The revolving door turned gently, bringing He Damin and his family into the hotel lobby.

The lobby was much larger and more luxurious than He Yushui had imagined. A huge crystal chandelier hung from the high dome, its dazzling lights illuminating the entire lobby as if it were daytime. The floor was paved with gleaming marble; walking barefoot on it would probably feel cold. Everywhere were soft sofas, lush tropical plants, and waiters in tuxedos or red uniforms silently moving about with trays. A faint fragrance permeated the air, mingled with the aroma of coffee and food.

He Yuzhu subconsciously looked down at his shoes—new cloth shoes he'd just bought in Beijing, black corduroy, which he'd always thought were quite presentable. But now, standing in this gleaming lobby, he suddenly felt these shoes were so tacky he couldn't bear to be seen in public. He wished he could disappear into a crack in the floor, and walked with extreme caution, afraid of soiling the ground.

He Daqing was even more nervous, his palms were sweaty, and he held Qin Huairu's hand tightly, not daring to let go. He didn't know where to look, afraid that his gaze would appear too rustic and make him a laughing stock. Qin Huairu wasn't much better off; her arms holding the child were stiff.

Only He Damin and Chen Xueru remained calm. He Damin had experienced the prosperity of later generations, so this was not surprising to him. Chen Xueru, after all, was a seasoned silk shop owner who had seen the world. Although she was also surprised by the luxury of the Peninsula Hotel, she quickly calmed down and simply observed her surroundings discreetly.

Lawrence walked to the front desk and spoke a few words to the receptionist in fluent English. The receptionist, a blond, blue-eyed foreigner, was very polite, smiled and nodded, then took out a bunch of brass keys and personally led them to the elevator.

"The presidential suite," Lawrence said, turning to He Damin with a hint of self-satisfaction. "The top floor has the best view. There are seven rooms in total, enough for your family. I've already prepaid a month's rent."

He Yushui didn't understand what "presidential suite" meant, but she followed the adults into that small, shiny metal box (the elevator), watched the elevator doors close silently, and then felt her body sink slightly and then gently rise again, with a slight buzzing sound in her ears. When she came to her senses, the elevator doors had already opened again—they had arrived.