Chapter 199: The Siheyuan's Final Frame

When Zhao Jianguo put the terminal into his pocket, the twins were squatting on the roof tiles counting stars. He had just stepped out of the courtyard, his foot on the last rung of the ladder, and looking up he saw two little heads swaying back and forth.

"Don't climb forward." He reached out and pulled the children back, holding one in each arm. Wind blew from the hutong entrance, carrying the scent of dinner and the distant cries from the canteen.

"Dad, the light is back again." One of them suddenly pointed at the horizon.

Zhao Jianguo followed the gaze, and a pale blue light pattern streaked across the air, rippling like water. Immediately, a gold‑red light stream surged from the opposite direction; the two beams overlapped above the Siheyuan, forming a net.

He said nothing, just held the children tighter.

The light grew brighter, making the wind chime under the eaves tinkle softly. The markings on the twins' wrists began to heat up, flashing alternately bright and dim, as if responding to something. Zhao Jianguo felt a tremor in his chest, and the terminal in his pocket automatically popped up its interface.

【Spacetime anchor point detected stable】

【Activating "Traveler Civilization Archive" construction program】

【Confirm upload of all data?】

He lowered his eyes to the screen, his finger sliding over the confirm key. Files began to transfer one by one—Dong Xu's first design sketch, students' handwritten notes, improvement records of the college‑exam‑specific ruler, operation logs of the automatic problem‑solver……All the things accumulated over the years turned into a data stream that poured into the light net above.

"Dad, is this our home?" one child asked, looking up at him.

"Yes." He said, "Your children will come here too."

"Will they be able to see us?"

"Yes." He smiled, "As long as these records remain, anyone can see them."

As his words fell, the system interface refreshed the last line:

【Civilization Witness System—Eternally Online】

Beneath the roof, the courtyard did not cease.

Dong Xu stood before the makeshift lectern in the Central Courtyard, holding a silver‑gray ruler. A dozen or so students gathered around him, some taking notes, others passing around samples. When he spoke of gear‑drive ratios, he also sketched a diagram on the blackboard, the lines clean and decisive in one stroke.

"This thing looks small, but it can help people avoid detours." He finished, paused, and glanced at the holographic projection on the wall, where the yearly admission rolls of students scrolled upward, name by name.

A student raised a hand and asked, "Professor Jia, how did you originally come up with this?"

He thought for a moment, "Because someone told me, tools aren't for showing off—they're so more people can reach them."

After saying that, he lifted his gaze to the roof and waved at Zhao Jianguo. The twins saw it, giggling and waving back.

At the west kitchen, Sha Zhu lifted the steamer lid, a puff of white steam "whoosh" rising. He scooped a spoonful of braised pork into the lunch box and handed it to the waiter standing by.

"Today I added two extra chunks of fat—Old San Daye loves it." He said, turning to shout, "Er Lengzi! Don't sneak a bite! That's saved for the teacher training class!"

Er Lengzi slipped out the back door with half a scallion dangling from his mouth, his lips glossy with oil. "I'm just taking a taste, I really didn't eat much."

"One bite and you could taste five dishes." Sha Zhu laughed and scolded, then turned back to dish out rice.

On the stone stool by the gate, San Daye gnawed on a steamed bun, an enamel jar of strong tea before him. As he chewed, he looked up at the banner on the wall—"Siheyuan Produces a Great Professor"—and grinned broadly.

"I've said it before—this courtyard isn't ordinary." He muttered, "Good feng shui, it produces talent."

Chen Xiao Jian crouched in the corner, gripping a palm‑sized detector whose screen showed a jumping waveform. After watching a moment, he suddenly looked up and shouted at the roof, "The signal's stable! The archive is connected!"

Zhao Jianguo nodded, silent. The twins shifted in his arms, one reaching out to catch a drifting point of light, as if trying to grasp it in his palm.

The sky was growing dark.

No one knew who lit the first firework; a burst of flame shot up with a "whoosh", exploding into a golden blossom. Then a second, a third followed in quick succession, lighting the whole courtyard in flickering brightness.

"Yikes!" Sha Zhu poked his head out the window, "Who set that off? It scared me half to death—almost knocked over the pot!"

"Celebrating!" San Daye stood up, patting the crumbs off his leg, "Such a big joy—why not make it lively?"

He Yushui was bringing a few young teachers to set up display boards; hearing the commotion, she also looked up. "Pretty good," she said, "Kids ought to grow up amid laughter."

She turned to the intern beside her and said, "Tomorrow refine the promotion route map a bit more, starting with a pilot in Hebei."

The intern nodded, took note, and upon looking up happened to see the figures on the roof. She blinked, "Professor Zhao and them… how did they get up there?"

"Let them stay there." He Yushui said softly, "Seeing farther makes the heart more at ease."

As more fireworks went off, the sky looked like a handful of crushed gold scattered about. Some burst into chrysanthemum shapes, some trailed long tails of light, painting every face with ever‑shifting colors.

Zhao Jianguo shielded the twins' eyes with one hand, fearing the bright light might hurt them. But the children kept sneaking a peek through his fingers, and each time they did they burst into laughter.

"Nice, huh?" he asked.

"Beautiful!" they answered in unison.

He held them tighter, his chin gently rubbing the tops of their heads.

The holographic projection on the wall kept running; the newest page showed the "Siheyuan Teaching Method National Coverage Progress Map," green regions already joined into one. Beside it scrolled the line: "Everyone can teach, everywhere can learn."

After finishing his lecture, Dong Xu packed up and prepared to leave. Passing the patent wall, he paused to look at the design sketch of the first‑generation problem‑solver. In the lower‑right corner the small print still read: "Prototype built—spring 1979, in the Central Courtyard of the Siheyuan."

He reached out and touched the edge of the projection; it was cool, as if he were touching his past self.

"Leaving?" He Yushui walked over and asked.

"Mm." He replied, "I still have to prepare lessons tomorrow."

"You're no longer just teaching one class."

"I know." He said, "So I have to lecture better."

The two walked out side by side, behind them came the children's laughter and the crackle of fireworks.

On the roof, the wind gradually died down.

The twins, worn out from play, leaned on Zhao Jianguo's shoulder and dozed off. One murmured "light" in his sleep, the other hummed a song he'd learned that day. He gently patted their backs, his gaze sweeping over the whole courtyard.

Dong Xu left, but the lectern remained standing.

He Yushui and the crew took down the display boards, but the route map on the wall stayed where it was.

Sha Zhu closed the canteen windows, but the stove fire wasn't out; residual heat still warmed the pot's base.

San Daye carried a small stool back indoors, still humming an off‑key opera tune.

Chen Xiao Jian packed up his gear, and before leaving he glanced once more at the sky—the two light nets had merged into a steady ring, hovering silently above the Siheyuan.

Zhao Jianguo lowered his head to look at the terminal.

The last line on the screen remained unchanged:

Civilization Witness System——Eternal Online

He turned it over and slipped it back into his pocket.

Fireworks are still going off.

When the last bundle shot up, it burst into a ring shape, like a ring, slowly falling glitter. Shuang Baotai barely opened their eyes, pointed at the sky and uttered a few incoherent sounds, then closed them again.

He held them, motionless.

The wind stopped.

The light fell.

The courtyard grew quiet.

In the distance, the Bell Tower tolled eight times.