Courtyard House: Time Traveler Not Yet a Ghost

One month later, in New York.

Manhattan, AT&T headquarters. This skyscraper still stands out prominently in New York's concrete jungle, symbolizing the strength and status of this long-established telecommunications giant. At this moment, however, the atmosphere in the boardroom on the top floor is unusually tense, like the calm before a storm.

Around the long mahogany conference table sat a dozen or so middle-aged men in suits. They were all core executives of AT&T, usually powerful figures in the business world, but now they all had furrowed brows and serious expressions. In front of each of them was a thick document with several unfamiliar Chinese characters and an English translation printed on the cover—"Spark Technology Technology Licensing Agreement".

"Gentlemen," the chairman, a sprightly old man with gray hair, who sat in the main seat, slowly put down the documents in his hand, took off his reading glasses, rubbed his slightly swollen nose, and asked in a deep voice, "Have you all finished reading?"

There was a moment of silence in the conference room, with only the slight hum of the air conditioning system.

A vice president, wearing gold-rimmed glasses and appearing refined, broke the silence first. He adjusted his glasses, his tone tinged with disbelief: "This technology... is too advanced. Our company's R&D department is also working on fiber optic communication, investing considerable manpower and resources, but according to our assessment, it will take at least another ten years to achieve practical application. Yet this Hong Kong-based 'Spark Technology,' which suddenly appeared, has already produced a mature product, and according to their test reports, its performance indicators are several orders of magnitude higher than the best sample in our lab. This is simply... illogical."

"What's even more terrifying is the chip," another director in charge of technology development interjected, his fingers tapping unconsciously on the table. "The tiny processor they provided—our engineers have tested it repeatedly. Its processing speed is dozens of times faster than our most advanced products, while its power consumption is only one-tenth! How is that possible? With current semiconductor technology, it's simply impossible to manufacture something like that. Do they possess some kind of cutting-edge technology we're unaware of?"

"But they actually made it." The chairman slammed his hand on the table, his voice tinged with helplessness. "We've tested the samples repeatedly, and the data doesn't lie. The performance speaks for itself; it's far superior to all our existing products."

A deathly silence fell over the meeting room once more. Everyone's heart pounded. This wasn't just a simple technology licensing agreement; it was practically a declaration of war from the future. To accept or not to accept? It was a difficult choice.

After a long silence, a senior director with graying hair slowly spoke, his voice somewhat hoarse: "Perhaps... we shouldn't have accepted the authorization."

As soon as he finished speaking, everyone's eyes turned to him.

"You won't accept?" A question immediately arose from the marketing director, who sounded somewhat agitated. "What about our competitors? As far as I know, IBM and Motorola are already in contact with Spark Technology. If we don't accept, and their products launch with performance far superior to ours, who will buy our existing equipment? What will happen to our market share? Are we just going to hand over such a huge communications market to them?"

"What I mean is," the old director pushed up his glasses, his tone very serious, "maybe we can increase our R&D investment and do it ourselves. With ten years of time and enough funding and manpower, we can catch up, right? When have we at AT&T ever been afraid of anyone in terms of technological R&D?" His words carried a hint of the pride of a long-established giant.

"Ten years?" The chairman gave a wry smile and shook his head. "In ten years, the market changes rapidly. Our competitors won't wait for us. If we don't accept the license, our market share will be gradually eroded over these ten years. By the time we spend ten years developing it, the market may have already been taken over by others. What will we have to compete with then?"

A dilemma arose in the conference room. Everyone understood that this was a war they couldn't afford to lose. Accepting the license meant handing over core communication technology standards to an unknown Hong Kong company, becoming dependent on them in every way, and having to pay huge patent fees every year. Refusing the license meant falling behind technologically and watching helplessly as competitors snatched the market away. Neither option seemed appealing.

"Let's vote." The chairman remained silent for a long time before finally sighing and making the decision. It was the most democratic, yet also the most helpless, way.

The voting process was quick and quiet. Everyone wrote down their choice on a piece of paper.

Fifteen minutes later, the results were in: twelve votes in favor and three votes against.

AT&T, the American telecommunications giant, finally bowed its proud head and decided to accept the technology license from Xiangjiang Xinghuo Technology.

Almost at the same moment, on the other side of the world, in Tokyo, at NEC headquarters.

The atmosphere in the meeting room was even more somber, even oppressive, than at AT&T in New York. The Japanese have a far stronger obsession with technology and a greater sense of pride than the Americans. For them to bow down and accept a technology license from a foreign company, especially in their proud electronics industry, would be tantamount to admitting technological inferiority—a profound humiliation.

"We can develop it ourselves!" A young, ambitious technical director, his face flushed, waved his arms excitedly, as if giving a pre-battle speech. "Give me five years! No, three! Just three years, and I'm sure I can lead the team to develop technology that's no worse than theirs! Our Japanese engineers are the best!"

"Five years is too long, and three years isn't realistic either." The president, a middle-aged man with a serious and unsmiling face, coldly interrupted him. "Fujitsu is already preparing to sign the contract. If we don't sign, they will monopolize this market. Can you bear that responsibility?"

"But President..." The young technical director wanted to argue, his face full of resentment.

"No buts." The president stood up, his tone resolute. "Sign. But the negotiation team must fight for better terms. Tell Spark Technology that we at NEC demand Level 2 modification rights, allowing us to conduct secondary development and optimization based on existing technology. This is our bottom line." He knew that passively accepting the authorization was not an option; he had to gain some initiative.

The ensuing negotiations proved as difficult as anticipated. NEC's negotiating team argued their case forcefully, even agreeing to pay a higher patent royalty rate than AT&T in order to secure the valuable "right to improve." This tug-of-war lasted for a full week.

Ultimately, NEC accepted the licensing agreement and also obtained a certain range of modification rights. In exchange, they agreed to pay a patent fee that was two percentage points higher than the initial offer from Spark Technology.

After the news broke, other major Japanese electronics companies, such as Fujitsu, Hitachi, and Mitsubishi, also lowered their stance and proactively contacted Spark Technology, requesting authorization. Within just one month, the entire Japanese electronics industry seemed to have entered the so-called "Spark Era" overnight.

Hong Kong, Victoria Peak, Ho Ta-man's villa.

He Damin sat in the comfortable leather sofa in his study, holding the authorization progress report that John had just delivered. Each name on the report was marked with a red checkmark indicating "signed." AT&T had signed, IBM had signed, Motorola had signed, Siemens had signed, Ericsson had signed, and NEC and Fujitsu had also signed. In Asia, Samsung of South Korea and TSMC of Taiwan were still hesitant, repeatedly sending people to investigate and negotiate, trying to secure more favorable terms.

He Damin wasn't in a hurry. He knew that once the giants who had already signed contracts launched their devices equipped with Spark Technology's chips and technology, showcasing their astonishing performance advantages, companies like Samsung and TSMC, who were still observing, would be more anxious than anyone else. At that time, they would come knocking on his door, and their conditions would only be more demanding.

"Mr. He," John knocked gently on the door and came in, his face beaming with undisguised joy, "Good news! The advance payment for the licensing fee has arrived. The first installment, totaling $120 million, has been deposited into our Swiss bank account."

He Damin nodded, his face showing little reaction. One hundred and twenty million US dollars—for ordinary people, this was undoubtedly an astronomical figure, money they couldn't spend in several lifetimes. But for him, it was merely a number on paper, an insignificant milestone in his grand plan.

"How are the chip orders going?" That was what he was more concerned about. Chips were the core of his entire strategy.

John opened another document and reported, "The first batch of chip orders totals 800,000 wafers. AT&T ordered 200,000, IBM ordered 150,000, NEC ordered 100,000... Together, that's exactly 800,000 wafers."

"Can our production capacity keep up?" He Damin asked.

"The production line in the small world is running at full capacity, currently producing a stable 150,000 pieces per month. It will take about six months to deliver all 800,000 pieces," John replied.

He Damin thought for a moment, then shook his head: "It's not enough. Go and make arrangements to expand two more production lines. The demand for chips will only increase in the future, and we must prepare in advance."

"Understood!" John replied immediately, not daring to be negligent in the slightest.

After John left, He Damin stood up and went to the window again. Outside, on the waters of Victoria Harbour, a huge cargo ship was slowly sailing out of the harbor, its hull bearing a prominent shipping company logo. He knew that ship was loaded with the first batch of chips and routers destined for the United States.

He recalled his past life, how the internet revolution swept the globe, and how the companies at the forefront of that wave grew into behemoths. Now, he was the one who had personally ignited that wave. When his routers filled telecommunications data centers worldwide, when his chips were installed in every device, when his technology became the sole global standard… then every data transmission in the world would pass through his equipment; every online transaction would pay him patent fees; every piece of information would flow through the network he had woven.

He Damin's lips curled up slightly, revealing a confident smile.

"This is what a true Skynet is," he said softly, his voice filled with the power to control everything.

Just then, soft footsteps sounded behind her. Chen Xueru, carrying a steaming bowl of white fungus and lotus seed soup, gently pushed open the door and walked in.

"Thinking about something again?" She walked over to He Damin and asked softly, handing him the bowl.

He Damin turned around, took the bowl, and felt the warmth emanating from its rim. "Thinking about the future."

"In the future?" Chen Xueru looked at him curiously. Although she didn't quite understand what her husband was doing, she knew that he was doing important things.

"Hmm," He Damin scooped up a spoonful of white fungus and lotus seed soup, blew on it, and said, "Once the network is built, once the chips are sold, once the patent fees are collected... this world will be different."

Chen Xueru nodded, seemingly understanding, but she knew that her husband's "different" meant things were going in a positive direction. She reached out and smoothed He Damin's hair, asking softly, "So when will you finally be able to take a break?"

Looking into his wife's gentle eyes, He Damin felt a warmth in his heart and took her hand: "It'll be soon. Once the first batch of equipment is deployed, once the network is truly running, and everything is on track, I won't have to keep an eye on things every day. Then, I can stay home with you and the children every day."

Chen Xueru's cheeks flushed slightly. She gently pushed him and said reproachfully, "Who wants you to accompany me every day?" Though she said that, she felt a sweet warmth in her heart.

He Damin smiled, and pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly.

Outside the window, the sun shone brightly, its golden rays warming the two of them. In the distance, Victoria Harbour remained bustling, with cargo ships laden with goods and hopes sailing to all corners of the world.

Those ships contained his chips, his routers, and his future.

And he, He Damin, stands at the forefront of this era, his gaze fixed firmly on the world, gradually shaping it into the form he desires. A brand new information age, under his control and led by him, is slowly unfolding.