Courtyard House: Time Traveler Not Yet a Ghost

A week later.

On Queen's Road Central, a five-story European-style building has been completely renovated. The previously somewhat weathered exterior has been repainted an elegant off-white, and the windows have been replaced with brand-new double-glazed windows that gleam in the sunlight. Above the main entrance, a new bronze plaque hangs prominently, bearing the words "Global Bank Management Limited" in gold lettering in both Chinese and English. The font is steady and imposing, exuding an undeniable power.

Inside the building, interior renovations were in full swing. Workers were moving in and out, carrying various building materials. The sounds of drills, hammering, and talking mingled together, creating a bustling scene. But the basement had already been completed, transforming into an impregnable fortress.

He Damin stood behind the heavy iron door leading to the basement, with the newly renovated vault right in front of him.

The 1.2-meter-thick reinforced concrete walls, covered with 30-centimeter-thick special steel plates that gleamed coldly, made the entire space resemble a giant, airtight safe. The air still carried the mixed smells of cement, paint, and metal. The eight-ton blast-proof door was open, revealing approximately 500 square feet of space inside. With a ceiling height of four meters, it felt spacious and grand, illuminated by several powerful blast-proof spotlights. The floor had also been specially treated, paved with thick steel plates, reportedly capable of withstanding tens of tons of pressure.

Lawrence stood beside He Damin, a smug smile on his face, but his eyes also betrayed a hint of unease and curiosity. He was eager to know what Mr. He intended to store in this expensively constructed vault.

"Mr. Ho, as you can see, the quality of this vault is absolutely the best in Hong Kong. G4S engineers personally inspected it, and they said that even a tank might not be able to break down this door," Lawrence carefully explained. "What do you plan to store there? Should I contact a security company to arrange top-tier armed escort?"

"No need," He Damin said calmly, his gaze sweeping over the empty vault. "You can leave now. Tell everyone to stay away from here, including the construction crew and security personnel. I don't want to see anyone for the next half hour."

Lawrence was taken aback. Although he was full of doubts, his professionalism prevented him from asking a single question. He immediately nodded, "Okay, Mr. He, I'll clear the area right away." After saying that, he turned and walked out quickly, gently closing the heavy iron door leading to the basement behind him, shutting out the noise and curiosity from outside.

In the basement, only He Damin remained.

He walked to the center of the vault, savoring the absolute silence. The only sound was his own soft breathing. He carefully scanned the entire space with his divine sense, confirming there were no listening devices, cameras, or other spying equipment. This place was absolutely safe.

A thought arises—

The next second, twenty huge gold bars appeared out of thin air in the center of the vault, neatly stacked.

Twenty blocks, each weighing ten tons, were stacked in two rows of ten. Each block was sharply defined, its surface smooth as a mirror, reflecting a dazzling golden light under the bright lights. Two hundred tons of gold instantly filled half of this five-hundred-square-foot space, exuding a suffocating sense of oppression and an indescribable awe.

Those weren't special effects from a movie, nor were they painted sets; they were real, heavy pieces of gold! They stood there quietly, like silent behemoths, radiating an ancient and powerful force.

He Damin looked at the mountain of gold in front of him with satisfaction.

That's impressive enough. That's exactly the effect he wanted.

He turned and walked to the eight-ton blast door, reached out, and gently pushed it. The heavy hinges creaked slightly as the door slowly closed. The moment the door was fully closed, the internal latch automatically engaged with a dull thud, signaling the complete sealing of this golden fortress.

The next day, major newspapers in Hong Kong, such as Sing Tao Daily, Wah Kiu Yip, and Hong Kong Commercial Daily, simultaneously published a major news story on their front pages, with an eye-catching headline that was enough to attract everyone's attention.

"The headquarters vault of Global Bank Management Company has officially opened, holding a gold reserve of up to 200 tons!"

The press release was highly inflammatory and persuasive.

"Hong Kong's first Chinese-owned bank management company, Global Bank Management Limited, announced today that its underground vault in its headquarters building on Queen's Road Central has officially commenced operation. It is understood that the vault employs Hong Kong's most advanced security system, designed and constructed by a top international security firm. The walls are 1.5 meters thick (Lawrence deliberately exaggerated the figures to enhance its mystique and deterrent effect), and the doors are Swiss-imported blast doors weighing eight tons, making its security level virtually impenetrable."

Even more remarkably, reliable sources reveal that the vault holds a staggering 200 tons of gold! Based on current international gold prices, this is worth over HK$600 million! Such a substantial gold reserve is unprecedented not only in Hong Kong's financial sector but also rare in the entire Asian financial world! This marks the formal rise of Chinese-owned banks, their entry onto the international financial stage…”

Of course, this press release was carefully written and arranged by Lawrence, with the aim of creating the biggest sensation.

In the following days, the entire city of Hong Kong was in an uproar.

Countless eyes were focused on that seemingly unremarkable five-story building on Queen's Road Central. Banks were closely watching and analyzing the strength and background of this suddenly emerging "Global Bank"; ordinary citizens were discussing it on the streets, filled with curiosity and amazement at the "two hundred tons of gold"; and reporters from all walks of life swarmed in like sharks smelling blood, staking out the building in hopes of taking a picture of the vault or uncovering more about the secrets of this mysterious bank.

Some say this is definitely a publicity stunt, that Global Bank couldn't possibly have that much gold, and it's purely a gimmick to attract depositors; others firmly believe it's true, after all, daring to announce it so publicly and making such extravagant security arrangements for the vault must mean there's a mysterious, powerful backer with unfathomable strength behind it; still others say that regardless of whether it's true or not, anyone who dares to do this must have the confidence, and at least in the short term, there's no need to worry about it going bankrupt.

That's exactly the effect He Damin wanted.

He wanted everyone to know that the vaults of the Global Bank contained two hundred tons of gold, like a golden mountain, indestructible.

So, if one day in the future a Japanese bank's vault is "accidentally robbed" and a large amount of gold is lost, everyone's first reaction will be: Did the Global Bank do it? But upon closer inspection, it seems absurd—the Global Bank itself has two hundred tons of gold, it's incredibly wealthy, why would it take such a huge risk to steal from someone else? Moreover, the Global Bank's vault security is the most advanced in Hong Kong, with armed security personnel on duty 24 hours a day. How could someone possibly move a large amount of gold from there without anyone noticing?

Therefore, the initial skeptical gaze will naturally shift away, and people will look for other possibilities.

The real gold, however, had long since been lying quietly within his inner world, unknown to both gods and ghosts.

That evening, at the villa on Victoria Peak.

After dinner, Chen Xueru leaned on He Damin's shoulder, holding a copy of the day's Sing Tao Daily, carefully reading the article about Global Bank. Only a soft floor lamp was on in the living room, its warm light bathing the two of them.

"Two hundred tons of gold..." she murmured the number from the press release, her tone filled with disbelief. She looked up at He Damin, "Brother Damin, do we really have that much gold? And it's stored in that basement?" Although she knew her husband was rich, the number two hundred tons of gold still left her feeling somewhat dazed and shocked.

"Mmm." He Damin nodded, put his arm around her shoulder, and felt the softness and warmth of her body.

Chen Xueru was silent for a moment, then put the newspaper aside, nestled in He Damin's arms, and whispered, "Once this news comes out, a lot of people will definitely be watching us. Won't we be... too conspicuous?" She was a little worried; she understood the saying that the bigger the tree, the more the wind will blow against it.

"That's exactly what we need them to keep an eye on." He Damin gently patted the back of her hand, his voice steady and confident. "The more people watching, the safer we are."

Chen Xueru nodded, seemingly understanding, though she didn't fully grasp her husband's deeper meaning. She chose to trust him. He always found a way to turn danger into opportunity, even transforming peril into chance. She didn't press further, simply nestling quietly in his arms, savoring this rare tranquility and peace of mind.

Outside the window, the night view of Victoria Harbour remains dazzling. Countless lights, like stars, adorn the night sky, outlining the vibrant silhouette of Hong Kong. On the water, the lights of ferries glide slowly by like flowing pearls.

He Damin gazed at the lights, a sharp glint flashing in his deep eyes.

In Tokyo, the chaos and reconstruction following World War II have likely not yet fully subsided, and the economic order is far from stable. It's a perfect opportunity to fish in troubled waters. When the time is right, he'll stir up trouble in Japan again, then go there to reap the rewards.

At that time, there might be "accidents" happening in the vaults of those Japanese banks.

As night deepens, the wind atop Victoria Peak carries a touch of coolness, caressing the city's wealth and dreams.

In May 1956, early summer in Hong Kong was like a charcoal oven that had been overturned, scorching and intensely hot. The blazing sun baked the asphalt roads, sending up waves of heat mixed with car exhaust and the salty smell of the sea. Even the air seemed twisted into scalding twisted pretzels, and inhaling it was a painful experience. At that moment, the unassuming five-story building on Queen's Road Central became like an ice cube thrown into a pot of boiling oil, instantly becoming the focus of the entire city's attention.

This building is the location of Global Bank Management.

"Global Bank Management Company holds 200 tons of gold reserves"—this news, like a bombshell, exploded in the tranquil city of Hong Kong. Riding the humid breeze, the news quickly spread to every corner of the city.

In the towering office buildings of Central, impeccably dressed clerks in sharp suits, their hair neatly combed, put down their coffee cups and documents, lowered their voices, and their eyes were filled with shock and speculation. In the tea restaurants of Yau Ma Tei, ceiling fans creaked overhead as laborers in vests and shorts argued animatedly, spittle flying from their mouths, the air thick with the sweet aroma of milk tea and the pungent smell of cheap cigarettes. In the dimly lit grocery stores of Sham Shui Po, the proprietress fanned away flies while whispering to regular customers, forgetting to even turn the beads on her abacus. In the gambling dens on the outskirts of Kowloon Walled City, the crisp sound of dice hitting the bowl couldn't drown out the buzzing discussions among the gamblers, even the dealer's hands seemed a beat slow in dealing the cards. Even on Victoria Peak, in the Governor's House, surrounded by lush greenery and overlooking the entire Victoria Harbour, a solemn gaze could be seen behind the white shutters.

Two hundred tons of gold!

These four words themselves carried a heavy weight, making it hard to breathe. At the time, the London gold market price was a solid $35 per ounce. One ton, or 32,000 ounces, was worth $1.12 million. Two hundred tons? That's $224 million!

In 1956, Hong Kong's total GDP for the entire year was only a little over a billion US dollars.