Courtyard Houses: From Bronze Compasses to Global Reach

Chapter 140 Mountain Top Banquet

Chapter 140: The Mountain Top Banquet

In early September 1959, the Los Angeles Basin was still sweltering. When Lin Yan, Xiao Qi, and Wang Yuling checked into their newly purchased "Laurel Estate" on the northern slopes of Beverly Hills, they were greeted not only by the California sun but also by a persistent layer of grayish-yellow smog—photochemical smog. This "City of Angels" was plagued by the byproducts of its industrial and transportation development; the air was thick with a pungent odor, and the distant mountains were faintly visible through the haze.

For ordinary people, this might only be a slight discomfort, but for cultivators with heightened senses, this pollution was almost like poison gas. Little Qi sneezed as soon as she entered, scratching Lin Yan's trouser leg with her paw in dissatisfaction: "Brother, the air here smells awful! It smells even worse than the sulfur in Yellowstone!"

"Take it easy." Lin Yan gently stroked Xiao Qi's head, his divine sense sweeping across the entire "Laurel Manor".

This Mediterranean-style manor spans five acres, with its main building featuring warm yellow stucco walls and a red tile roof, and arched doors and windows adorned with exquisite wrought ironwork. Most remarkably, it's situated halfway up a hill, offering both panoramic city views and unparalleled privacy. Lin Yan went straight to the study, taking out a smooth, jade-like array plate from his storage ring, its surface covered in intricate runes. He carefully embedded a top-grade spirit stone into the array's core, then took out eight array flags embroidered with cloud patterns and placed them around the study according to the Bagua (Eight Trigrams) orientation.

"Heaven and earth are clear and bright, spiritual energy returns to its source, activate!" He formed a hand seal, and the array plate immediately emitted a soft light. The eight array flags moved without wind, and a pale golden light screen spread out from the study, rapidly flying towards the boundary of the manor in different directions, inserting into the ground, disappearing from sight, and instantly enveloping the entire manor. The "Nine Revolutions Purifying Spirit Array" not only gathers the spiritual energy of heaven and earth, but also isolates the polluted air from the outside. When the array was completed, the air in the manor was instantly as fresh as morning, and even the fragrance of the roses in the courtyard became exceptionally clear.

Little Qi rolled around happily on the lawn, sniffing the fresh air with her little nose: "Brother is so amazing!"

Two days later, a convoy of three Cadillacs drove into the estate. Charles, accompanied by Lin Gang, Lin Er, and eight carefully selected servants, arrived in Los Angeles. Lin Er was the first to jump out of the car, exclaiming dramatically, "Young Master, you've chosen a fantastic place! With this formation set up, it's even more comfortable than our villa in New York!"

After bowing respectfully, Lin Gang carefully examined Lin Yan: "Young Master, you must be tired from your journey. You look a bit thinner." His eyes were full of concern. This loyal servant, who had followed Lin Yan since the Beijing courtyard house, always kept Lin Yan's well-being in mind.

Lin Yan smiled and reassured him, "I didn't suffer much, don't worry!"

The seasoned Charles had already begun directing the servants to unpack the luggage. He calmly retrieved custom-made furniture from his storage ring: an Italian leather sofa, a Persian hand-woven rug, a mahogany desk… and reported, “Young master, as you instructed, all the items have been brought. Furthermore, Mr. Alexander has reserved a membership for you at the Beverly Hills Club.”

Just as everyone was busy, the doorbell rang. It was their neighbor, Margaret Harrison, the wife of a Hollywood producer. When she saw Lin Yan open the door, she couldn't help but be stunned. The Eastern boy in front of her had a perfect figure of 188 centimeters, and his features were as exquisite as a sculpture. What was even more special was his extraordinary temperament.

"Good heavens!" Margaret exclaimed, snapping out of her reverie, "I'm your neighbor, Margaret Harrison, from that white house on the hilltop. Welcome to Beverly Hills! This is a lemon cake I baked myself." She handed the basket to Lin Yan, extending a sincere invitation: "I'm having a party this weekend with lots of interesting neighbors and friends. Please come! Everyone's eager to meet their new neighbor!"

Lin Yan wanted to decline, but Margaret insisted, "It's a deal! Saturday night at seven o'clock, you must come!" She then stuffed the invitation into his hand.

Mrs. Margaret asked warmly, "What's your name?"

Lin Yan smiled gently. "My name is Lin Yan, and I'm Chinese!"

On Saturday evening, the Harrison family villa was brightly lit. When Lin Yan appeared in a simple dark suit, he immediately attracted everyone's attention. But he habitually walked to the corner floor-to-ceiling window and quietly sipped his champagne—a natural inclination of an Easterner.

"We can't let our distinguished guest hide here!" Margaret spotted him and warmly pulled him under the chandelier. "Ladies and gentlemen, this is our mysterious new neighbor, Mr. Lin!"

Just then, a young woman in a Berkeley uniform walked over. Emily Harrison's heart skipped a beat the moment she saw Lin Yan. She had never seen such a striking Eastern man.

"My mother said a mysterious prince from the East had arrived, and she wasn't exaggerating," Emily said, extending her hand gracefully. "I'm studying sociology at Berkeley, and I'm currently studying the English translation of the *Tao Te Ching*."

Lin Yan smiled gently: "'The highest good is like water, which benefits all things without striving.' I didn't expect Miss Emily to be interested in Eastern philosophy."

"That's exactly what fascinated me," Emily's eyes lit up. "Western philosophy emphasizes conquest and transformation, while Eastern thought focuses more on harmonious coexistence with nature."

At this point, Williams, wearing thick glasses, joined the discussion: "Speaking of Eastern wisdom, it reminds me of the moon landing program we're currently researching. I've read about the 'Jianmu' tree in the *Classic of Mountains and Seas*; the ancients' imagination in yearning for the sky is astonishing."

Lin Yan pondered: "The legend of the Jianmu tree embodies humanity's desire to break boundaries. However, in my opinion, what's even more admirable about the lunar landing program is its rigor—from the Tsiolkovsky formula to the Hohmann transfer orbit, every step was built on precise mathematical calculations."

Williams pushed up his glasses in surprise: "Mr. Lin also studies aerospace theory?"

"I know a little," Lin Yan said modestly. "Actually, the Eastern philosophy of 'harmony between man and nature' and your pursuit of the essence of the universe through science are both searches for truth, just with different paths."

The three engaged in an in-depth discussion about the differences between Eastern and Western ways of thinking. Lin Yan's unique insights drew frequent nods from Williams: "You're right, science requires imagination, while philosophy requires logic; the two should complement each other."

Williams explained in detail the key technical challenges such as trajectory calculation and escape velocity, his eyes gleaming with idealism. Lin Yan watched him thoughtfully. This mortal's spirit of using scientific methods to break through the limitations of heaven and earth was faintly connected with the Dao heart of a cultivator who "goes against the heavens." Both were striving forward on their respective "paths," only using different methods.

Just then, a discordant voice broke the silence. Richard, an art critic reeking of alcohol, staggered in, scrutinizing Lin Yan with a critical eye: "An Asian? Here in Hollywood to wait tables?"

Lin Yan frowned, and asked Mrs. Margaret in surprise, "Who is this gentleman? I don't seem to remember offending him!"

Margaret cursed Richard inwardly for his lack of manners, but out of politeness, she could only awkwardly introduce him to Lin Yan: "This is the famous art critic, Mr. Richard."

Lin Yan's eyes sharpened: "Mr. Richard, as far as I know, the standard for judging art should be the work itself, not the artist's background. Would Picasso's Cubism be devalued simply because he was Spanish?"

Richard was momentarily speechless, but fueled by alcohol, his prejudice against Chinese people flared into a rage: "You yellow-skinned people should just stay in Chinatown and do laundry!"

"Interesting," Lin Yan smiled slightly, "You enjoy Chinese-style laundry services while simultaneously disdaining the people who provide them. This contradictory mentality is perhaps the topic worth exploring."

Several gentlemen present couldn't help but chuckle. Richard, his face flushed, was about to erupt when a faint, cold glint flashed in Lin Yan's eyes. Suddenly, the wine glass in his hand shattered, splashing red wine all over him. Everyone assumed it was an accident, except for Emily, who noticed the fleeting glint in Lin Yan's eyes. Amidst the gasps of the crowd, he scrambled away, giving Lin Yan a vicious glare before leaving.

This little incident actually sparked even more interest in Lin Yan. Banker Mr. Jensen approached him for a chat: "Mr. Lin's performance just now was truly impressive. I have business dealings in the Far East and have always admired the wisdom of the Eastern people."

Filmmaker Carlson chimed in, "Your insights into Eastern and Western cultures are unique. Perhaps we could collaborate on a documentary on this topic."

At the end of the party, Mrs. Margaret specifically apologized to Lin Yan: "I'm so sorry to have made you go through all this unpleasantness. Richard always loves to show off his knowledge, and he's even more outspoken when he's drunk."

Emily offered, "It's still early, let me take Mr. Lin home. We can go for a walk and sober up."

Beverly Hills was exceptionally peaceful under the moonlight. Emily asked curiously, "You always seem to be able to remain calm; is that something you learned from Eastern philosophy?"

"The Zhuangzi says, 'Riding on things to roam the mind,'" Lin Yan said, gazing at the distant lights. "It means following the nature of things and maintaining a free and easy mind."

As they approached Laurel Manor, a small white ball suddenly darted out of the door and landed on Lin Yan's trouser leg. Lin Yan bent down, picked up Xiao Qi, and introduced her to the surprised Emily: "This is my little friend, Xiao Qi."

Emily chuckled at the fluffy little Seven: "What an adorable puppy! It seems Mr. Lin is not only well-versed in philosophy, but also very kind-hearted."

Lin Yan gently stroked Xiao Qi, watching Emily leave. Under the moonlight, the Nine Revolutions Purifying Spirit Array glowed faintly, isolating the city's hustle and bustle from its pollution. He stood on the terrace, reflecting on what he had witnessed that evening—the dreams and prejudices, the obsessions and shallowness of mortals, were all so vivid.

The doorbell rang suddenly. Through his divine sense, Lin Yan "saw" Emily, who had returned, standing outside the door. Opening the door, she asked bluntly, "That wine glass, you made it, didn't you? Who exactly are you?"

Lin Yan paused for a moment, then gave a meaningful smile: "Miss Emily, it's late, you should go home."