Courtyard Houses: From Bronze Compasses to Global Reach

Chapter 117 The First Arrival in Japan: The Roar of Propellers and the Afterglow of the Empire

At 10:00 AM the next day, at Hong Kong Kai Tak Airport, a massive four-engine propeller plane was parked on the runway. Its aluminum fuselage gleamed in the bay sunlight, and the enormous propellers began to slowly rotate, emitting a deep, powerful roar. This was a Douglas DC-7C "Seven Seas Master," one of the kings of intercontinental flight in this era, renowned for its range and reliability.

Lin Yan looked up at the "big bird" with its classic design and powerful lines, his eyes filled with wonder. Compared to the streamlined jet airliners he was used to in his previous life, this DC-7C seemed more "mechanical," with its exposed engines and complex flap structure exuding an old-fashioned industrial aesthetic.

"Young Master, it's time to board," Lin Er whispered a reminder from the side.

Inside the cabin, the space was far less spacious than in later times, but the decor had a unique charm. The gleaming wood paneling, thick carpets, and supportive leather seats exuded a retro-luxury feel. The air was filled with the scents of leather, fuel, and a faint fragrance. Lin Yan sat by the window, fastened his seatbelt, and watched with interest as the ground crew bustled about outside.

The roar of the engines suddenly intensified, and the plane began to accelerate on the runway. A strong sense of thrust and the deafening noise of the propellers filled the senses. With a slight turbulence, the plane broke free from gravity and soared into the sky. Through the porthole, the scenery of Victoria Harbour and the Kowloon Peninsula gradually shrank, like a finely detailed model.

The flight was long and noisy. The propeller noise was constant, and occasionally, when encountering turbulence, the fuselage would shake noticeably. The flight attendants provided simple meals and drinks, their service attentive but far less refined than in later times. Lin Yan didn't find it unbearable; instead, he observed everything with a sense of experiencing history. His powerful divine sense could even subtly perceive the stress changes in the aircraft's structure and the engine's operating status—an experience unlike anything he had ever had before.

After flying for about four hours, the plane began its descent, making a brief refueling stop at Naha Airport in Okinawa. Lin Yan looked out the window at the militarized landscape of this strategic location; numerous US military aircraft were parked in one corner of the airport, a stark reminder of its special political significance. An hour later, the DC-7C roared back into the blue sky, heading towards its final destination—Haneda Airport in Tokyo.

Around 4 p.m., after nearly six hours of flight, the plane finally began to land on the runway at Haneda Airport.

At this time, Tokyo's Haneda International Airport was far from the massive, modern airport it would become. The airport was small, with open views around the runways, revealing numerous farmlands and low-rise buildings. The terminal building was a square, reinforced concrete structure, simple and practical in style, bearing the marks of post-war reconstruction, with the "TOKYO INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT" sign atop it. On the tarmac, besides several DC-4, DC-6, and Boeing 377 Stratocruiser propeller planes, some military transport aircraft could also be seen, indicating its dual civilian and military purpose. The atmosphere was busy yet orderly, but overall it exuded the tension and dynamism unique to East Asian countries in the late 1950s, striving to catch up with the world.

The plane landed smoothly and taxied to its parking position. Lin Yan and his group of four traveled light, without even checking any luggage, carrying only a simple document bag, and quickly passed through customs and immigration inspection.

As soon as Lin Er stepped out of the terminal, he instinctively went to inquire about the fastest flight to the United States.

Lin Yan waved his hand, a meaningful smile appearing on his face: "No rush. Lin Er, since we're here, let's make the best of it. Wouldn't it be a shame to leave like this?"

Lin Er paused slightly, then lowered his head: "Yes, young master. What are your arrangements?"

"Call a car." Lin Yan's gaze swept over the somewhat worn-out street scene outside the airport. "We're going to the Imperial Hotel Tokyo."

Two black Toyota Crown taxis carried them towards the city center. Outside the car window lay Tokyo, rapidly rebuilt after the war but still bearing the scars of the conflict. Low-rise wooden buildings juxtaposed with modern reinforced concrete skyscrapers, and pedestrians in suits and kimonos walked side by side, creating a peculiar scene.

The Imperial Hotel Tokyo boasts a long history. The current building consists of the second-generation main building designed by Frank Lloyd Wright and the later expansion. The hotel's exterior is in Wright's signature "Mayan Revival style," making extensive use of volcanic rock and reliefs. Its simple yet magnificent design made it unique in Tokyo at the time, a symbol of luxury and status.

The convoy stopped in front of the hotel, and uniformed doormen respectfully opened the car doors. The four of them walked into the lobby, which was spacious and designed in the same style as Wright's, with heavy stone, low domes, unique stained glass windows and custom-made bronzeware, creating an atmosphere that was both classic and exotic.

Lin Er walked to the front desk and said to the receptionist in fluent and standard English, "Good evening. We need four deluxe suites for three nights, please."

The receptionist glanced at the four distinguished, impeccably dressed guests who carried no luggage. A flicker of surprise and curiosity crossed her eyes, but her professionalism compelled her to immediately reply, "Certainly, sir. May I have your passports, please?"

Check-in was very quick. Lin Er prepaid for the room with brand-new US dollar bills, which were hard currency at the time. A hotel manager personally led them to the top-floor suite via elevator.

Upon entering the spacious and luxurious suite, a blend of Western comfort and Japanese details, Lin Gang and Wang Yuling dutifully inspected the room. Lin Er then spoke again, voicing his doubts: "Young Master, I am rather slow-witted. Is there something else we need to do while we stay here for three days?"

Lin Yan walked to the window, looking down at Tokyo as the city lights began to twinkle. His voice was calm, yet tinged with a coldness: "Lin Er, do you remember what the Japanese did in China decades ago?"

Lin Er's expression hardened, and he lowered his head, saying, "I dare not forget. Burning, killing, looting, and committing all sorts of atrocities."

"Yes." Lin Yan turned around, a cold glint in his eyes. "What they stole wasn't just gold and silver. Countless precious ancient books, paintings, and cultural relics were transported back to their homeland. To be honest, we don't lack money now. But those things that carry Chinese civilization and historical memory cannot be left abroad, much less be ruined by them."

He paused, a sly smile spreading across his face. "I know roughly where they're hidden. We won't be idle for the next three days. We'll go and 'take back' these things that didn't originally belong here."

Lin Er instantly understood. The young master was about to use extraordinary means to return the item to its rightful owner! A surge of indescribable excitement and respect welled up within him, and he immediately bowed, saying, "Understood! Please give your orders, young master!"

Lin Yan nodded: "Let's rest for a bit. We'll 'visit' those places after nightfall. Remember, don't leave any traces."

As night deepens and Tokyo's neon lights begin to flicker, no one knows that several "visitors" from the East are about to launch a silent, special operation in the city aimed at reclaiming national treasures. Beneath the fading glow of the empire, undercurrents are about to surge.