Courtyard House: Time Traveler Not Yet a Ghost

Early spring of 1968, Hong Kong.

The morning mist on Victoria Peak hadn't yet dissipated, carrying a damp coolness from the sea breeze. He Damin stood on the second-floor terrace, the steam from his cup of Longjing tea rising windingly along the cup's sides, condensing into a thin layer of white vapor in the cool air. The villas on the opposite hillside were still shrouded in a hazy mist, but Victoria Harbour had already awakened, several cargo ships floating on the blue-grey sea, moving slowly like dozing whales.

The pomegranate tree by the balcony railing was planted by him two years ago. This spring, it sprouted wildly, its branches adorned with large red flowers, the edges of which were still glistening with morning dew, falling in a rustling sound with every gust of wind. In the six months since he returned to Hong Kong, Lawrence has called three times from Switzerland, saying a European consortium wanted to invest in his bank; John sent a telegram from California, saying the yield rate at the Silicon Valley chip factory was problematic; even He Yushui came to him with a television project proposal—he dismissed them all with a simple "You handle it."

Rumors are circulating throughout the Ho Group that the boss is probably possessed. Ho Damin, who once ventured to Hong Kong with just a suitcase, opened electronics factories all over Southeast Asia in three years, and had banking licenses plastered all over Europe and America in five years, now spends his days holed up in his villa on the hilltop, either reading newspapers or tending to his plants, looking like a decrepit old man prematurely retired.

"Brother Damin, it's time for breakfast."

Chen Xueru's voice came from behind him, soft and sweet, as if she had just woken up. He Damin turned around and saw her wearing a light pink cotton nightgown with a small magnolia flower embroidered on the neckline. Her hair was loosely tied back, with a few stray strands falling beside her cheeks. In the six months since he last saw her, she had been preoccupied with company matters, and her complexion had improved considerably. Her cheeks had a healthy pink hue, and her eyes shone like obsidian submerged in water.

He walked over and naturally took her hand, his fingertips brushing against the delicate silver bracelet on her wrist. This bracelet was made last year at a long-established silver shop in Causeway Bay. When the craftsman asked what words she wanted engraved, Chen Xueru blushed and said "peace" would be fine. At this moment, her palm was warm, carrying a hint of languid sleepiness.

"The kitchen made bird's nest porridge today." She looked up at him, her eyelashes like two small fans. "Yu Shui said the TV station's new program is going to invite a famous Cantonese opera star, so he went to the opera house early this morning."

The two slowly walked downstairs, and sure enough, the restaurant was filled with the sweet aroma of coconut milk. He Yushui was already seated at the mahogany dining table, her hair styled in the latest trendy wavy curls, wearing a fitted Xiangyun yarn cheongsam, and scribbling on her planner with a Parker pen in her hand. Hearing footsteps, she looked up, her pearl earrings jingling in the morning light: "Good morning, Uncle and Aunt. Today's newspaper says a new-style tea restaurant has opened in Kowloon City."

He Damin pulled out a chair and sat down. A servant had already brought over a bowl of bird's nest porridge in a blue-and-white porcelain bowl, with a few bright red goji berries floating on top. "Don't stay up too late at the board meeting," he said, scooping up a spoonful of porridge and blowing on it slowly. "Regarding that children's program you mentioned last time, just find a few elderly gentlemen who can tell stories."

"I know." He Yushui flipped through the newspaper, then suddenly poked the social section with the tip of her pen. "Look, even the Governor's wife went to a charity gala, but you haven't shown your face in six months. People are saying you've retired from the business."

He Damin raised an eyebrow: "Retiring from the business? My hands haven't been idle yet." As he spoke, he reached out and peeled a hard-boiled egg for Chen Xueru, the egg white peeled smooth and intact. Chen Xueru blushed and quickly lowered her head to drink her porridge, but the tips of her ears quietly turned red.

He Yushui chuckled, covering her face with the newspaper: "Okay, okay, I understand. You have to stay home with your aunt." She folded the newspaper into a square and stuffed it into her bag, then walked away in her high heels, making a face as she turned back before leaving.

Only the two of them remained in the restaurant. The pomegranate blossoms outside the window cast dappled shadows on the dining table. Chen Xueru sipped her porridge and suddenly let out a soft "Ah!"

"What's wrong?" He Damin immediately put down his bowl.

"It's nothing," she said, stroking her lower abdomen, her eyes sparkling. "It's just that I felt something move a little, like a little fish blowing bubbles."

He Damin's heart skipped a beat. He put down his chopsticks and carefully placed his palm on her still flat stomach. The warm touch penetrated the thin fabric, and he held his breath, clearly feeling the faint yet vibrant throbbing beneath his palm.

"Let me see." He closed his eyes, his divine sense flowing into her body like a gentle stream. Her meridians circulated normally, the golden core in her dantian became more and more solid, and in the location of her uterus, six tiny specks of light, each the size of a grain of rice, were sleeping peacefully, each surrounded by a faint halo of spiritual energy, like scattered diamonds on black velvet.

He Damin suddenly opened his eyes, his hands trembling uncontrollably. Chen Xueru was startled and grabbed his wrist: "Brother Damin, what's wrong?"

"Six..." His voice was hoarse, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down, "Xueru, we have six children."

"Six?" Chen Xueru's spoon clattered into the bowl, splashing some bird's nest porridge onto the tablecloth. Her eyes widened, and she remained stunned for a long time before finally asking in a trembling voice, "Did...did I miscount?"

"You didn't miscount." He Damin squeezed her hand, his fingertips tracing her cool fingertips. "Six little dots, all neatly arranged."

Chen Xueru lowered her head, looking at her belly, her eyes slowly reddening. She suddenly grabbed He Damin's arm, her voice trembling with tears, and said, "How am I supposed to give birth to six? I heard Mrs. Zhang next door say that even giving birth to one is excruciatingly painful..."

He Damin pulled her into his arms, gently patting her back. Her hair brushed against his chin, carrying a faint scent of soap. "Don't be afraid," he whispered, "I've already had John contact the best obstetricians in Switzerland; we'll give birth there."

"What about formula? What about diapers?" Chen Xueru sniffed. "How much formula do six babies need...?"

"Have you forgotten what your husband does?" He Damin pinched her cheek. "Tomorrow, we'll have someone book the best ranch in the Netherlands to produce milk powder just for you."

Chen Xueru burst out laughing at his joke, but her tears flowed even more freely, soaking a large patch of his shirt. A few more pomegranate blossoms fell outside the window, their petals drifting onto the windowsill like scattered rouge.

The news spread like wildfire throughout the entire He family that very day. He Yushui rushed back from the TV station at noon. She twirled around the living room in her high heels, her pearl necklace swirling like a shooting star: "Six! Oh my god! I'm going to be an aunt! No, an aunt to six children!" She was so excited that she almost knocked over a blue and white porcelain vase on the antique shelf, but luckily He Damin caught her in time.

He Yuzhu rushed over from the restaurant in the evening, his apron still covered in flour, carrying a thermos. He put the thermos on the table, opened the lid: "I just made some black chicken soup, for Xue Ru to nourish herself!" Upon hearing there were six children, the soup ladle in his hand clattered to the ground, his eyes widening like saucers: "Six? I... I need to go back and buy a few more clay pots!"

He Daqing arrived the next morning, wearing a newly made Zhongshan suit and carrying a bamboo basket filled with his own free-range chickens and eggs. He paced around the living room three times, rubbing his hands, and said, "Six...good...if your mother were still here, she would definitely slaughter a pig for you..." As he spoke, his eyes reddened. Qin Huairu stood to the side wiping away tears, holding Chen Xueru's hand and asking her all sorts of questions, saying that she had been in pain for three days and three nights when she gave birth to Huaihua.

When the news reached Switzerland, Lawrence laughed heartily on the other end of the phone: "Hey, are you starting a rugby team? Need me to book the best private school in Geneva for you?" John paused for three seconds, then said, "Boss, I'm going to acquire three baby product companies right now."

From that day on, He Damin stopped going out altogether. He moved all the documents from his study to the living room, handling official business while spending time with Chen Xueru. In the mornings, he would accompany her for walks in the garden, watching the gardener prune the roses; in the afternoons, he would sit on the wicker chair on the terrace and read her interesting stories from the newspaper; and in the evenings, he would hold her hand and use his divine sense to "see" the six little ones.

He discovered that his six children each had distinct personalities. The eldest was the most composed, always quietly staying at the very back; the second was the most mischievous, constantly tumbling around inside his mother's belly; the third and fourth liked to huddle together, as if whispering secrets; the fifth and sixth were the youngest, always lingering near their mother's lower abdomen, probably coveting the spiritual energy of the elixir.

Chen Xueru's belly grew bigger every day, and by the fifth month, it looked like she was carrying a large watermelon. He Yushui hired three top-notch postpartum nannies who prepared a variety of nutritious meals for her every day. He Yuzhu went even further, sending ten different tonics from the restaurant every day, such as fish maw stewed chicken and ginseng bird's nest, filling the refrigerator to the brim. He Daqing and Qin Huairu came every week, bringing vegetables they had grown themselves and salted duck eggs. Qin Huairu even sewed six sets of little cotton-padded jackets, red, blue, and pink, with fine stitches.

He Damin converted the third floor of the villa into a nursery, painting it a soft beige. Six cribs, all custom-made in Italy and adorned with exquisite carvings, stood side by side by the window. He Yushui also bought six strollers, six sets of baby toys, and even the baby bottles were made of silver, engraved with each child's name—He Fu, He Lu, He Shou, He Xi, He Cai, and He Kang—chosen by He Daqing from a dictionary.

Autumn arrived in the blink of an eye, and the weather in Hong Kong gradually cooled down. Chen Xueru's due date was approaching, and He Damin chartered a private jet to take her and the postpartum caregivers to Switzerland. Outside the delivery room, He Yuzhu nervously wrung his hands, He Yushui paced back and forth holding her newly bought teddy bear, and He Daqing sat on a bench, holding Buddhist prayer beads and muttering incantations.

The delivery room was quiet, save for the ticking of the machines. He Damin stayed by Chen Xueru's side, holding her hand tightly. She was sweating profusely from the pain, her lips white from biting them, but she still forced herself to say, "Brother Damin, don't worry..."

After an unknown amount of time, a loud cry of a newborn broke the silence. Then came a second, a third… six cries rose and fell, like a lively symphony. The nurse emerged carrying six swaddled babies, her face filled with disbelief: “Congratulations, Mr. He, five boys and one girl, mother and children are safe and sound.”