Courtyard House: Time Traveler Not Yet a Ghost

He turned around, walked back to his desk, and sat down. He picked up the pen, the nib scratching softly across the white paper. He wrote a few lines, his handwriting strong and resolute, carrying an undeniable determination:

Inner World: Anode Space. Area: Approximately 5,000 square kilometers. Spiritual Energy Concentration: Approximately 100 times that of the outside world. Robots: 2,000 units (service, research, production, and combat types). Production Lines: Six chip manufacturing lines, two lithography machines, one robot line, and several supporting equipment. Core Asset: One alien spaceship, "Voyager 7". Energy Reserves: 31%. Long-Term Plan: After their children reach adulthood, travel around the solar system with Xue Ru. Route: First stop, the Moon. Second stop, Mars. Third stop, Jupiter. Ultimate goal: The Sun (to replenish energy).

He looked at those lines of text as if they were a map leading to the future. A genuine smile spread across his face.

These are He Damin's true wealth!

It's not those cold, hard numbers in banks, not those fictitious market values ​​in the stock market, and certainly not those gold bricks that, in our small world, now seem insignificant.

It is this portable, self-contained little world, this alien spaceship that can take him to escape gravity and travel through the stars, and that person who is willing to accompany him from nothing to where he is now, and who is willing to go with him to see the moon and the stars.

Thinking about this fills my heart with a warm and comforting feeling.

"Squeak—" The study door was gently pushed open.

Chen Xueru walked in carrying a white porcelain bowl containing steaming hot white fungus and lotus seed soup. The sweet aroma mixed with the steam instantly dispelled the chill in the study.

"Staying up late again?" Her voice was gentle, with a hint of reproach, as she gently placed the bowl beside He Damin. "It's almost midnight, and the children have to get up early for school tomorrow."

He Damin picked up the bowl, a warm sensation spreading through his fingertips. He scooped up a spoonful, blew on it, and put it in his mouth. The lotus seeds were stewed until very tender, the white fungus was smooth and slippery, sweet but not cloying—his favorite flavor. "I didn't stay up all night, I was just... thinking about something."

"What are you thinking about, so lost in thought?" Chen Xueru sat down in the chair opposite him, casually picked up the annual report on the table, and flipped through it haphazardly. "Company matters?"

"No," He Damin shook his head, took another sip of soup, and felt the warmth spread from his stomach to his whole body. "I'm thinking about the future."

"The future?" Chen Xueru smiled, her eyes filled with a hint of helplessness and heartache. "The children are sleeping soundly, and you're still thinking about the future. There's a long future ahead of you."

He Damin put down his bowl, his gaze fixed intently on her. Under the lamplight, faint wrinkles appeared at the corners of Chen Xueru's eyes, but her eyes remained clear and gentle, just as they had been when he first met her. "Xueru," he said softly, "have you ever thought that when the children are all grown up, we... should go out for a trip?"

"Go out for a walk?" Chen Xueru paused for a moment, then smiled. "Sure. Where to? Europe? Or go back to the mainland? I heard the Great Wall in Beijing is very well repaired."

"No," He Damin shook his head, his eyes filled with a longing and seriousness she had never seen before, "It's a very far place."

"How far?" Chen Xueru asked curiously.

He Damin thought for a moment, trying to find a suitable word: "Farther than the United States, farther than Europe, farther than Antarctica."

Chen Xueru chuckled and reached out to touch his forehead: "Brother Damin, are you running a fever? What nonsense are you talking about? Farther than Antarctica? What kind of place is that? Is it the edge of the world?"

He Damin didn't laugh. He stood up, walked to the window, opened it, and pointed to the large, round moon in the sky. Moonlight shone on his face, half bright, half in shadow. "There."

Chen Xueru looked in the direction he was pointing, then froze, her eyes widening: "The moon?"

"Yes. The moon." He Damin's tone was unusually certain.

Chen Xueru looked at the moon, then at He Damin, as if he were a complete stranger. After a long while, she finally found her voice, which trembled with disbelief: "You...you're crazy?"

"I'm not crazy." He Damin turned around, walked step by step to her, squatted down, and took her hand, which was resting on her knee. Her hand was a little cold, and he wrapped it tightly in his own. "Xueru, do you know what my greatest wealth in this life is?"

Chen Xueru was taken aback by his sudden seriousness and shook her head blankly.

He Damin looked into her eyes and said, word by word, "It's you. It's you who was willing to stay with me, from when we had nothing to where we are now. It's the children, it's our family being together safely. The money, the stocks, the houses and cars, none of that is the most important thing. The most important thing is that our family is together."

He had kept these words in his heart for a long time. Before, he was busy working hard, busy making money, busy providing a stable home for his wife and child, and didn't have time to say these things. Now that everything is stable, he can finally express his truest thoughts.

Chen Xueru's eyes instantly reddened, and tears streamed down her face like a broken string of pearls. She quickly turned her head away and wiped them with the back of her hand. "Brother Damin, you... why are you suddenly saying this..." Her voice choked with sobs. Having followed him for so many years, through thick and thin, she had never regretted it. But hearing him say this, her heart felt as if it had been struck hard by something, a mixture of bitterness and tenderness.

He Damin smiled, reached out and pulled her into his arms, gently patting her back. "I just suddenly felt like saying it."

Her hair still carried a faint scent of shampoo, which, mixed with the coolness of the night, made him feel incredibly at ease. He held her in his arms for a long, long time, until only their soft breathing and the occasional sound of the wind outside the window filled the study.

Outside the window, the moon rose higher and higher, its silvery light bathing the entire Victoria Peak and also entering the small study, casting a gentle halo over the two people embracing each other.

The next morning, just as dawn was breaking, He Damin woke up. His long-standing habit of going to bed early and waking up early was unwavering.

He quietly finished washing up and went out into the courtyard. The morning air was exceptionally fresh, carrying the moisture of dew and the fragrance of grass and trees; taking a deep breath, his lungs felt refreshed. He stretched his limbs and began practicing Tai Chi. Each movement was slow and steady, his breathing long and deep, as if he had become one with the surrounding world.

Before long, the yard became lively. The six little ones, as if they had made an appointment, rubbed their sleepy eyes, wore their pajamas, yawned and ran out of the house to surround him and imitate his gestures.

"Good morning, Dad!"

"Dad, we want to practice kung fu too!"

Yuan'an was the most lively and learned the movements the fastest, but he was also the least standard. Like a little duck that had just learned to walk, he wobbled from side to side, swinging his arms and legs wildly, and would occasionally steal glances at his older brothers and sisters.

Yuanping was calm and steady, and learned the slowest, but he did a great job of imitating his father's movements. His little face was tense and he looked adorably serious.

Yuan Ning and Yuan Jing are twins who look exactly alike. Even their movements are identical, like two little butterflies dancing gracefully.

Yuanqing and Yuankang were the youngest and didn't quite understand what practicing martial arts was all about. They just followed their older brothers and sisters around aimlessly, sometimes imitating Yuanan swinging his arms, sometimes imitating Yuanping doing a horse stance, making a mess of things that amused everyone.

Chen Xueru brought breakfast out of the kitchen, stood in the doorway, leaned against the doorframe, and looked at the six children and one adult in the yard. Sunlight streamed through the eastern clouds, warm and gentle, illuminating them and giving each of them a golden edge. The pomegranate tree in the corner of the yard had mostly turned yellow, its leaves rustling in the wind, with a few occasionally drifting down to carpet the ground like a golden rug.

Her lips curved upwards involuntarily, her eyes filled with a gentle smile. This was her home—noisy and bustling, yet incredibly warm and cozy.

"Dad, why do we have to practice kung fu?" Yuan An was sweating profusely from practicing and finally couldn't help but stop. He put his hands on his hips, panting heavily, his little face flushed like a ripe apple.

He Damin stopped what he was doing, walked over to him, and wiped his sweat with a towel. The little guy smelled of sweat mixed with the scent of milk, a unique smell of a child. "It's for good health. Only when you're healthy can you live a long life," he explained, trying to use language the child could understand.

"How long will you live?" Yuan An asked curiously, looking up at his face.

"A very long time," He Damin replied.

"Older than Grandpa?" Yuan An was referring to He Damin's elderly father, who was still in relatively good health, but was getting on in years.

"Yes, even longer than Grandpa." He Damin nodded affirmatively.

Yuan An's eyes lit up, as if he had discovered some amazing secret: "Then can I live to be a hundred years old?" In a child's mind, a hundred years old is already an unattainable longevity.

He Damin smiled and ruffled his hair: "Yes. As long as you practice hard, you'll live past a hundred."

"Really?" Yuan An jumped up excitedly. "Then I'll practice hard! I want to live to be a hundred! No, two hundred!" After saying that, he enthusiastically started gesturing again, although it was still crooked, but much more serious than before.