Chapter 312: Lin Ran’s Fifth Gift
Hong Kong, Central Wing Kut Street 23-27
This is the renowned Randolph Building across all of Hong Kong, a testament to the friendship between the Xu Family, which firmly holds the top spot among Hong Kong Chinese families, and the American Chinese descent senior official Randolph Lin.
It has long been a topic of fascination in Hong Kong newspapers, hailed as the most valuable investment Xu Aizhou made in his lifetime. Back then, when Lin Ran first arrived in Hong Kong in early 1960, he was merely a Chinese descent professor rising to fame in the mathematics community, yet Xu Aizhou generously gifted him an entire building, maintaining their personal relationship all the way to today.
This ensured the Xu Family’s position in the Global Shipping Standards Committee.
Of course, while the Xu Family’s second generation indulged in nightly revelry, horse racing, and lavish spending on women in Hong Kong, newspapers would also mention Xu Aizhou and Lin Ran’s story to subtly mock the second generation as unworthy successors to a heroic father, each generation worse than the last.
However, some say the second generation’s behavior is biding one’s time and hiding one’s strength, avoiding standing out too much and becoming the frontline in the power struggles among England, America, and China in Hong Kong.
After all, without that ability, taking on this kind of delicate work is tantamount to courting death.
Previously, some people didn’t understand, thinking Hong Kong was only run by the English, but then the Americans came, showing no face to the English at all, forcing British capital to bow before American capital, not daring to use any of the tactics once employed against Chinese people.
Later, after the Sha Tau Kok incident, China sent a signal to all of Hong Kong with the blood of the Jardine Matheson Taipan, a reminder not to forget our existence.
In the eyes of Hong Kong’s wealthy, Hong Kong consists of three forces: England and America in the open, China in the shadows, with every group having intricate ties to these three sides.
The Randolph Building is also an oddity in all of Central, as this commercial office building, newly constructed in 1962, stands completely vacant in this inch-of-land-inches-of-gold Central, with no businesses operating inside.
But the exterior is regularly cleaned, and the entire building is equipped with security personnel, cleaning ladies, etc., ensuring property management capabilities on par with fully occupied office towers.
There are rumors that the Xu Family second generation asked the professor’s opinion, and the professor said he wasn’t short of money, so the Randolph Building has remained vacant to this day, with no one ever entering.
After 1960, Lin Ran never had another chance to visit Hong Kong, nor did anyone else get the opportunity to enter.
Except for the cleaning ladies.
Until the late night of July 30, 1967, Zhou Nan, who had risen to vice president of the Baihua Society, went to the Randolph Building together with Xu Shixun, carrying a handwritten letter from Lin Ran to Xu Shixun.
The letter contained past events known only to the Xu father and son, Pao Yue-kong, and Lin Ran; it bore Lin Ran’s handwritten signature; Xu Shixun had even secretly confirmed by telephone with Lin Ran; combined with Zhou Nan’s identity, Xu Shixun knew full well, and only after multiple verifications did he personally escort Zhou Nan there.
Of course, the telephone confirmation was actually unnecessary; it was just Xu Shixun’s way of interacting with Lin Ran, leaving an impression and ensuring Lin Ran wouldn’t forget the Xu Family.
Consulting the leader on everything is one of the fastest ways in the workplace to make the leader see you as one of their own, even for the simplest matters—asking gives them a sense of intellectual superiority or loyalty, achieving the purpose either way.
“Bang bang bang” Xu Shixun rang the doorbell.
The usual resident here, responsible for overnight guarding, was Uncle Liu, who had some family ties to the Xu Family and was an old man brought over by Xu Aizhou from his hometown, an absolutely trustworthy retainer.
Uncle Liu was originally bleary-eyed, but upon seeing Xu Shixun and Zhou Nan outside through the transparent glass door, he instantly perked up.
“Young master, sir, please come in.” Uncle Liu knew who this was—Zhou Nan, nicknamed the Midnight Butcher, quite famous; he couldn’t really do much harm, but could at least annoy you a bit.
After the Sha Tau Kok incident, Zhou Nan’s photos were exposed by Hong Kong British-funded newspapers, labeling him with titles like “Midnight Butcher,” “Red executioner,” “underground emperor,” and the like.
For someone like Uncle Liu whose job keeps him in the security room reading newspapers and listening to the radio every day, how could he not know who Zhou Nan is.
He was just pretending.
After opening the door, Uncle Liu quietly stood aside, waiting until Xu Shixun waved his hand: “Uncle Liu, lock the door tight, no one comes in; you can go rest, I’ll take this gentleman upstairs to have a look—he wants to rent the Randolph Building.”
“Okay.”
Uncle Liu didn’t ask a single extra word, whether about Zhou Nan’s identity, the suspicious timing, or Xu Shixun’s excuse.
Rent the Randolph Building? Viewing it at midnight? Is the Baihua Society moving into the Randolph Building? Trying to fool ghosts—I’m old, not senile, Uncle Liu thought.
At the same time, he secretly pondered that he’d never heard of the Xu Family having ties to the mainland before.
Everyone knew the Xu Family had deep ties to the professor, and in these five years, the Xu Family had swiftly pivoted—from cooperating with British-funded banks to exclusively with American banks—clearly acting as America’s spokesperson in Hong Kong.
After all, with the Vietnam War imminent, American warships docked in Hong Kong every few days for repairs, and American soldiers frequently vacationed there.
So even as the Xu Family led a swarm of Chinese businesses that had previously partnered with British capital to jump ship to American banks, the English side didn’t dare utter a word of protest.
Recently, America established a so-called America in Hong Kong association in Hong Kong, abbreviated AIH in English, America in Hong Kong, hailed as America’s version of the Governor’s Mansion.
It’s just a civilian institution, but the Governor’s Mansion consults with AIH on many matters, and many policies require AIH’s approval to proceed—otherwise, they simply can’t be implemented.
And on AIH’s consultant list, there’s only one name: Randolph Lin.
This drew mockery from British-funded newspapers, questioning why NASA’s director could serve as an honorary consultant for AIH.
When interviewed, AIH’s chairman claimed the professor has deep feelings for Hong Kong and cares about its development; plus, as an English sir, he is qualified to express views on Hong Kong affairs.
Thus, in public opinion, Lin Ran is seen as AIH’s actual controller.
So, as one of Lin Ran’s spokespeople, the Xu Family is naturally viewed as part of America’s forces.
But now they’re associating with Baihua Society’s Zhou Nan.
Just thinking about it scared Uncle Liu—whether the Xu Family was jumping ship to betray the professor, or the professor jumping ship to ally with the mainland, these were secrets beyond a small figure like him.
He quickly shook his head, clearing guesses and distractions from his mind, fearing that thinking too much would land him inexplicably on a beach tomorrow.
Xu Shixun led Zhou Nan by elevator to the 21st floor, the top floor; neither spoke in the elevator.
Xu Shixun pulled keys from his pocket, unlocked the door and turned on the lights; inside was extremely clean, without a speck of dirt or dust.
Inside was just a row of safes; until Xu Shixun opened one and saw a suitcase inside, he suppressed his inner shock.
He picked up the suitcase—it was very light, definitely not heavy items inside; microfilm flashed in Xu Shixun’s mind.
It was the Cold War era; microfilm and such were popularized in newspapers and books; Xu Shixun wasn’t surprised.
Zhou Nan’s eyes narrowed, knowing this was the crux of his mission, something he had to bring back to China even at the cost of his life.
Xu Shixun handed it to Zhou Nan, “Mr. Zhou, here.”
Zhou Nan took it, then nodded: “Thanks, this is of great importance; I shouldn’t linger—I’ll take my leave now.”
He couldn’t delay a moment, needing to leave Hong Kong immediately with the suitcase and return to the mainland.
Xu Shixun replied: “Okay, I won’t see you off.”
After Zhou Nan left, Xu Shixun closed the safe and sat dazed for a long time.
When he returned to the first floor, he called Uncle Liu: “Uncle Liu, recently, besides those working here, has anyone else come?”
Uncle Liu shook his head firmly: “Young master, absolutely not! I guard here every day—nobody has come!”
As if recalling something, “Speaking of which, it reminds me of a strange incident; we discussed it for a while.”
Xu Shixun’s eyes sharpened: “What strange incident?”
Uncle Liu said: “Every evening after dinner, I go from the top floor down, checking each level to ensure the cleaning staff did their job and no vagrants sneaked in.
So, this means the elevator is always back at the first floor every morning, since I end at the first floor.
But a week ago in the morning, I found Auntie Li and them waiting a long time at the first-floor elevator; I asked and learned the elevator had come down from the 21st floor.
Yet the night before, I definitely ended at the first floor—this means after I took the elevator, someone else rode it to the 21st floor.
But I can confirm no one came to the building that night; it has only this one door.
This was very strange; this little old man never told anyone else, including Auntie Li and them, who also found it odd since they always go straight from first floor to 21st and clean downward.
Later I suspected the elevator was faulty; I even called Zhiming’s engineers to check, but they said it was fine.
If there’s a strange matter, it’s just this one.”
Zhiming, founded in 1954, is a local Hong Kong elevator manufacturer.
Xu Shixun realized—someone had come undetected; Uncle Liu just hadn’t noticed.
Yes, Lin Ran had used the door to get here.
In 1960, when Xu Aizhou promised to give him this building, it was only built to the third floor; during Lin Ran’s time in Hong Kong, Xu Aizhou brought him to tour it.
Lin Ran first went to the third floor, then took the elevator from there to the top, using the key from the Xu Family to place the suitcase in the safe.
Meanwhile, Xu Shixun’s doubts were also resolved.
“Okay, I understand, Uncle Liu—pretend nothing happened; today only I came to inspect.” Xu Shixun instructed.
Uncle Liu nodded: “Young master, today I only saw you.”
Xu Shixun sat on the first-floor sofa, lost in thought.
After all, the other party was Lin Ran, NASA’s director, with resources beyond imagination; having someone reach the third floor then go to the 21st undetected, unnoticed by Uncle Liu, was perfectly normal.
Rumors always circulated that the professor had ties to the Soviet Union.
In any case, in public opinion, Lin Ran’s image spanned America and the Soviet Union, with all sorts of tales.
In various novels and comics, any Chinese descent scientist character was inevitably in the aerospace field, high-ranking, extraordinarily intelligent, letting readers directly substitute Lin Ran without thinking.
And these characters often had extremely complex identities and motives.
Conspiracy theories abounded: top talent cultivated by the Soviet Union in Siberia to infiltrate the free world heartland; with the Vietnam War turning into a quagmire, such theories proliferated, as if the Vietnam War was something Lin Ran convinced Lyndon Johnson to fight.
Xu Shixun didn’t believe such conspiracy theories, but he knew Lin Ran’s influence and strength.
With the puzzle of how Lin Ran placed the item solved, Xu Shixun was even more curious about what was in the suitcase.
Could it be NASA’s Saturn V rocket technology?
He finally understood why Lin Ran had them install a safe on the top floor—the Randolph Building does have value.
Xu Shixun thought, but he didn’t ask or inquire, pretending nothing happened.
In this power struggle, he and Uncle Liu were no different; prying even a bit would get them crushed by the meat grinder.
He shook his head, sweeping distractions clean like Uncle Liu, living days no different from before—horse racing, women, all of it—except now he paid extra attention to mainland news.
Is that really the meaning?
Because of Lin Ran’s letter and the suitcase, many big shots from Area 51 returned from the southwest to Yanjing.
The suitcase traveled north through twists and turns, appearing from Hong Kong’s Central in Yanjing’s Xishan in just one day.
“Is ‘Ten Years of Human World’ really just to convey this meaning? Does the professor have no other intentions to pass on?”
On the surface, given to China was this song’s melody and lyrics; secretly, through Huang Yunji to China was another handwritten letter; to Chen Jingrun was a decryption key wrapped in a mathematics paper.
Only with the three combined could the suitcase be retrieved.
This frustrated researchers obsessed with interpreting the song itself.
Everyone had wild ideas, various metaphors—turns out none were right.
Even many years later, numerous self-media bloggers were still decoding the song “Ten Years of Human World”; by then, its manuscript was housed in the national museum, with everyone trying to interpret Lin Ran’s true meaning.
In China, this song’s implication rivaled the smile of the Mona Lisa.
Back at Yanjing’s Xishan, after decoding the microfilm bit by bit, it yielded massive cutting-edge technical data, all in the semiconductor field.
Besides fully mapping Area 51, lost in fog, one technology especially thrilled Dean Qian.
Including:
“Design and Manufacturing Method of TFT Arrays”
“Principle and Application of Twisted Nematic (TN) Mode”
“Liquid Crystal Material Formula Suitable for Television Applications”
“Production and Integration Technology of Color Filters”
“Advanced Processes for Large-Area Electronics Manufacturing”
“Backlight and Display Performance Optimization Technology”.
Those present were scientists who had devoted their lives to Area 51, with absolutely high trustworthiness.
After converting the suitcase’s microfilm to readable information, no one had properly rested.
Aside from basic physiological needs, they were fully immersed in these documents, trying to digest the shocking information.
It had been seven days since seeing the suitcase; Rusk would visit Yanjing on September 1, half a month away.
This was also Dean Qian’s first time convening everyone to discuss the matter.
Dean Qian sat at the table, tapping a rhythm on his notebook with a pencil, brows furrowed.
“Alright, everyone—these materials, no matter where they came from, keep them strictly secret; they’re incredibly unbelievable.
The technologies described far exceed our current level.
But with the Raspberry Pi ahead, these materials share its source; our task is to base on these technologies, manufacture so-called color LCD TVs, and improve and develop our semiconductor production technology.”
Lin Ran chose this timing to give China this gift because if China joined GATT, the color LCD TV tech advantage could last at least five years.
Via GATT, China would gain positioning like Finland, able to do business with both the free world and Soviet Union camps.
With a flagship product, plus immense pressure from alien technology, it would drive China to continuously advance in technology.
As for not developing technology? Without urgency, just look at the 10,000 satellites hanging in the sky, and after the Star Wars Program succeeds, America’s military-industrial complex, having tasted sweetness from the Vietnam War, would naturally find a country to demonstrate modern warfare.
Just thinking it over, Lin Ran could sense this era’s urgency for China.
This was a naked open scheme.
Huang Kun looked haggard, with severe dark circles, but it didn’t dampen his excitement; he waved, pointing at the materials:
“Old Qian, look at this part!
It says thin-film transistors can control each pixel on the display!
This completely upends our current passive matrix design.
If achievable, we can make high-resolution display screens suitable for TVs!”
LCD TV isn’t too advanced; for China, having replicated light emitting diodes, LCD TV is fully comprehensible.
The first LCD display device was launched by Epson in 1982 for pocket handheld devices; in 1988, Sharp released a 14-inch full-color LCD TV.
LCD TVs wouldn’t fully defeat traditional vacuum tube TVs globally until the 1990s.
Lin Ran’s provided technology was complete—from LCD TV invention to maturity, every key node on the full chain, no detours, a smooth path.
Huang Kun added:
“Thin-film transistors are mentioned in Silicon Valley science magazines; even in America, they’re still in the lab stage? We’re struggling with transistors on silicon wafers, and now directly on glass—this has huge difficulty.”
Huang Kun flipped through the materials, then waved a page:
“But luckily, this material details depositing amorphous silicon on glass substrates, using photolithography technology to make TFT arrays.
It’s similar to our current integrated circuit processes, just with glass substrates.”
Xie Xide added: “Exactly, this material’s details are so specific; here, it even gives the chemical formula for liquid crystal material that works at room temperature!
Our lab’s LCDs tracking Silicon Valley frontiers need heating to 80 degrees, unusable in consumer products.”
She continued: “It also mentions a twisted nematic mode, conceptually ahead of academia’s understanding of LCD tech, totally different from the current mainstream vacuum tube dynamic scattering mode.
It’s a new liquid crystal arrangement, with molecules twisted 90 degrees between glass layers; electric field controls the twist, changing light polarization.
Compared to dynamic scattering, higher contrast, lower power; simply put, more vibrant colors—I believe LCD TVs made from these materials, used on Raspberry Pi, will let us see blueprints more clearly.”
Huang Kun nodded: “Higher contrast, lower power; as display material, perfect for TVs—clear, complete TV images.”
Wang Shouwu: “Including the color filter here. Each pixel splits into red, green, blue sub-pixels, producing color via filters.
Requires precise manufacturing; here it mentions direct patterning of filters on glass substrates via photolithography.
Similar to our current IC mask processes, just larger scale.
You know, this design concept is ingenious—applying semiconductor manufacturing to displays, equivalent to jumping straight to color display.”
Wu Xijiu worried: “Just manufacturing such large glass panels—how to ensure uniformity? Our current wafers are just inches, with scary defect rates.
Though it mentions vacuum deposition and etching for large-area uniformity, plus cleanroom requirements, we’re using similar now; I doubt its process feasibility.”
Huang Kun added: “These materials go beyond displays; they can improve our semiconductor production lines.
It mentions shorter wavelength photolithography for smaller transistors.
Huge help for our semiconductor technology.
Including storage chip concepts; chips by type—computing chips, storage chips; even computing chips have many subtypes.”
Xia Peisu said: “This verifies our conjecture—our direction is right: shrink transistors. When small enough, if we shrink feature size to micron level, our ICs can integrate more transistors.
We can make Raspberry Pi!”
After hearing, Dean Qian was inwardly thrilled; if they could make such thin color TVs, it’d be a bombshell, even better for foreign exchange earnings than portable calculators:
“Alright, everyone, I know you’re excited—I’m just as excited.
Old Huang, you assign tasks first; we must hurry back to Area 51—can’t delay; I can’t guarantee this tech info is only with China.”
Huang Kun gathered his thoughts, then said: “We start small.
First, synthesize the room-temperature liquid crystal material here, or experiment TFT on small glass pieces.
If feasible, then consider mass production.
Wu Xijiu, you handle liquid crystal materials.
Xia Peisu, research TFT manufacturing processes.
Wang Shouwu, figure out color filter and display assembly details.
As for Xie Xide and me, we’ll advance semiconductor manufacturing per this tech proposal.
I think we’ll soon optimize processes, provide next-gen Panda Electronics flagship products.
Meanwhile, I believe Raspberry Pi replication is near.”
Dean Qian decisively: “Good, assignments clear.
Follow Old Huang’s plan; meeting tomorrow to discuss initial proposal.”
At that moment, Lin Ran in Huntsville glanced at his watch, figuring China should have received his big gift package by now.
Having completed initial resource integration in 2020 into a company worth hundreds of billions in market cap, over 10,000 employees—high-level in China by any measure, plus direct Yanjing contact—this made Lin Ran in 1960 increasingly composed.
Previously, he worried the tech data given to China was too advanced, too specific, leading to guesses about his identity or leaks to America prompting investigations.
Or dropping too much tech in this spacetime, developing the worldline beyond recognition.
Now, after ten years total, Lin Ran had no worries—even if the White House knew, so what? With the door, the world was his oyster.
Worst case, he could go to 2020 spacetime.
This shifted Lin Ran’s plans.
Starlink and Cyber God still to build.
But semiconductor technology, he planned to fully hand to China, providing latest data per their R&D progress.
After all, time flow rate difference was the ultimate weapon; China was his R&D base.
At NASA, develop aerospace, exhaust every method using Cold War’s special node to burn through American Congress budgets—post-Cold War, tricking budgets wouldn’t be easy.
For America, he hadn’t shortchanged them—money wasn’t his; after Commissioner Smith and others burned through, leaving nothing, he at least left some legacy.
China handles semiconductor R&D, America aerospace R&D.
Both hands grasping, both advancing.
This fifth gift to China was bigger than the previous four combined—a proper big package.
Just with LCD TVs, if China makes them, combined with GATT entry, fiscal revenue will leap.
