harleyscars Chapter 121 Returning to Old Haunts: Manhattan at Dusk and the Sigh of Capital
Chapter 121 Returning to Old Haunts: Manhattan at Dusk and the Sigh of Capital
The convoy drove out of Adwell Airport and soon merged into the wide lanes of the Van Weck Freeway. This is one of the main arteries connecting the airport to downtown New York City. Built in 1950, it was a fairly modern freeway at the time, but with far fewer lanes than later ones, yet the traffic flow was already quite dense.
Lin Yan leaned back in the soft leather seat, gazing out the window. New York in 1959 was a microcosm of its industrial civilization and capitalist power reaching their zenith.
The scenery outside the window flashed by. First, we passed through a series of middle-class residential areas in Queens, mostly row houses or detached brick houses, with neat and orderly designs. Classic cars of this era were parked in front of the houses: Chevrolet Bell Air, Ford Fairland, Pontiac Chieftain... Occasionally, we could see children playing on the street and housewives chatting in front of their houses, which was full of a stable and prosperous atmosphere of urban life.
The closer you get to Manhattan, the higher the density and height of the buildings become, and traces of industrial development begin to appear. Huge oil storage tanks, factory chimneys, railway marshalling yards... the air seems to faintly carry the scent of industrialization. On the highways, besides cars, there are mostly large, boxy freight trucks and buses, their engines roaring incessantly.
The convoy crossed the Queens Bridge and entered Manhattan. As the vehicles drove onto the bridge, the magnificent Midtown Manhattan skyline suddenly appeared before them!
Although not as densely packed with skyscrapers piercing the sky as Lin Yan remembered in the 21st century, Manhattan in 1959 was still visually striking. The spires of the Empire State Building and the Chrysler Building remained undisputed landmarks, surrounded by a cluster of Art Deco skyscrapers such as Rockefeller Center and the Transamerica Tower. The jungle of glass and steel shimmered with a cold, brilliant light in the afternoon sun, exuding a sense of capitalist power and modern arrogance.
"Young Master, we are about to enter the Upper East Side," Alexander Winters, in the passenger seat, announced at the opportune moment.
The convoy turned from 59th Street onto Fifth Avenue and headed north. The atmosphere changed instantly. The wide streets were lined with top luxury stores, luxury hotels, and imposing cultural institutions—such as the New York Public Library passing by and the Metropolitan Museum of Art further away. The pedestrians were noticeably more elegantly dressed and graceful, and the air was thick with the scent of money and privilege.
The car then turned onto a quieter, tree-lined side street—this was the heart of the Upper East Side. The buildings here were mostly exquisite brownstone townhouses and luxury apartment buildings, their understated exteriors exuding a profound sense of history. Occasionally, uniformed doormen would open heavy glass doors for residents, and elegant ladies in sophisticated dresses would walk their dogs; everything was orderly, reflecting the reserve and exclusivity of the old-money area.
Finally, the convoy came to a slow stop in front of a magnificent, detached neoclassical mansion. The villa had clearly been carefully chosen and maintained; its exterior was clad in light-colored stone, and it boasted tall floor-to-ceiling windows, an exquisite wrought-iron balcony, and a small private garden courtyard, blending seamlessly with its surroundings while ensuring ample privacy. A white butler in a sharp uniform, with a serious expression, stood waiting at the entrance.
Winters got out of the car first and opened the door for Lin Yan.
Lin Yan stepped out of the car and stood on the sidewalk of New York's Upper East Side, the evening breeze brushing against his cheek. He took a deep breath, the air filled with the faint scent of plants and the distant, faint hustle and bustle of the city.
He looked up, surveying the familiar yet unfamiliar world around him. The exquisite buildings, the hurried pedestrians with their shrewd or arrogant expressions, the glass curtain walls symbolizing endless wealth and power... countless fragments of memories flooded his mind like a tide.
In his past life, this is where it all began. The prestige of the Wharton School of the University of Pennsylvania allowed him to enter this jungle. He once stayed up all night here for an IPO project, negotiated deals worth hundreds of millions with people in upscale restaurants, and stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows of a luxury apartment, overlooking the dazzling lights, feeling smug and believing himself to be the master of the world.
This is the best place. It brings together global capital, top talent, and cutting-edge information. It offers limitless opportunities and a dizzying possibility of success. If you are smart enough, ruthless enough, and lucky enough, you can amass astonishing wealth and prestige here.
But this place is also a cannibalistic place. A flicker of reminiscence crossed Lin Yan's eyes. He had seen too many people crushed in the game of capital. Investors who lost everything overnight, losers ruthlessly eliminated, colleagues who became victims of power struggles... The rules here are cold and naked: winners take all, losers are left to rot. So-called friendship, ideals, even humanity, often crumble before the face of enormous profits. It attracts countless moths with glittering dreams, then burns them to ashes with cruel reality.
He ultimately chose to leave because he saw through the emptiness and danger behind the prosperity. In 2025, the United States was experiencing severe industrial hollowing out, financial games were increasingly detached from the real economy, and internal divisions were intensifying. He returned to China with his accumulated wealth, intending to invest in real industries and establish a more solid economic foundation, but he never expected…
Unexpectedly, an accident brought him back to this golden age of rampant global capital expansion, carrying with him memories of his past life and extraordinary abilities. Moreover, he returned in an unprecedented, condescending manner.
"The best place... is also a place that eats people..." Lin Yan murmured, repeating the sentiment he often felt when he left in his previous life, but a complex and amused smile played on his lips. "But this time, I wonder who will eat whom."
In his past life, he was a chess piece on a chessboard, fighting fiercely just to occupy a better position.
In this life, he is already the player, and even... the one who sets the rules.
Winters keenly sensed Lin Yan's sudden emotional fluctuation, but he remained respectful and did not ask any further questions. He simply gestured respectfully, "Young Master, everything is ready. Please come in and rest."
Lin Yan withdrew his gaze, the emotion in his eyes instantly vanishing, replaced by his usual deep and calm demeanor. He nodded and stepped towards the carved solid wood door.
A new journey has quietly begun on this familiar "battlefield." However, this time, he will be the one to write the rules of the game.
The car came to a smooth stop in front of the villa. Charles, the white butler, was already waiting with a bow.
"Good evening, young master. Welcome to your hotel." Charles, with a perfect British accent, opened the car door for Lin Yan. "I am your butler, Charles. It is my pleasure to serve you!"
Lin Yan nodded slightly, stepped off the bus, and stopped. His gaze swept over the building's exterior once more: light-colored limestone walls, black wrought-iron window frames and balcony railings, and a classic Greek column-supported entrance porch flanked by neatly trimmed potted evergreen plants; a few steps led to a heavy solid wood door. The entire facade exuded a neoclassical elegance and solidity, harmonizing with the style of its neighbors, yet subtly revealing its extraordinary nature in its scale and details.
"Mr. Winters has made all the arrangements. Please come inside with me to take a look." Charles stepped aside to lead the way.
Pushing open the main door, the first thing that catches the eye is the grand entrance hall, which has a high ceiling of nearly two stories.
"This is the foyer, young master." Charles's voice echoed softly in the empty space. "The floor is inlaid with Carrara white and black marble imported from Italy. The staircase is a custom-made curved design by a Danish craftsman, and the wrought iron handrail is the work of an old craftsman from Brooklyn."
Lin Yan noticed a Rococo Revival style gilded side table next to the stairs, on which sat an old-fashioned rotary telephone and a thick notebook.
After passing through the foyer, turn right to enter the main reception room.
"This is the main drawing room," Charles pointed out. "The walls are upholstered in silk, and the carpet is a custom-made handmade wool rug from Iran. Most of the furniture is from the latest collections of Knoll and Dunbar; Mr. Winters believes that their modernity creates an interesting balance with the building's classical heritage." He gestured to the large set of off-white leather sofas and velvet armchairs.
Lin Yan's gaze swept across the room, landing on the enormous marble fireplace and the gilded-framed mirror above it, before catching a glimpse of the beautifully designed teak cabinet phonograph in the corner. "The record cabinet has some jazz and classical records that Mr. Winters prepared for you; I hope you'll enjoy them."
Charles then led Lin Yan through the double doors into the formal dining room. The long mahogany dining table was so shiny it could reflect light, large enough to host a small banquet.
"Formal dining room, sir. The tableware is Royal Doulton bone china and Gorham sterling silver, both in the side cabinet. Please let us know when you require a banquet." Charles gently pulled open a drawer in the side cabinet, revealing the gleaming silverware inside.
Next was the study. The walnut bookshelves that stretched from floor to ceiling were mostly empty, exuding the fresh scent of the wood.
“This is your study, or rather, the beginnings of your library,” Charles said. “Mr. Winters guessed you might have a large collection of books to accommodate. The desk is an 18th-century English antique, but it’s equipped with the latest lamp and typewriter.” He pointed to the heavy German Pfaff typewriter.
Lin Yan nodded, quite satisfied with the space. It was perfect for storing ordinary books or documents that he had taken out of the space and needed to conceal.
Charles then showed the sunroom, where three glass windows let in the afterglow of the setting sun, and rattan furniture and lush Monstera deliciosa and Areca palms created a relaxed atmosphere. "This is the sunroom, perfect for afternoon reading or informal tea parties."
The kitchen caught Lin Yan's eye. Although it wasn't as full of digital devices as kitchens in later generations, the abundance of stainless steel and bright Formica plastic-coated cabinets, the huge double-door refrigerator, and the professional six-burner gas stove all demonstrated the era's top understanding of a "modern" kitchen.
"This is the chef's kitchen, equipped with the latest refrigeration and cooking equipment. The chef team is on standby, and of course, please let us know if you have any special catering needs."
"Charles, from now on, Yuling will be in charge of my meals. Let's disband the chef team; we don't need so many people at home."
"Yes, young master."
Charles then led Lin Yan upstairs to the second floor to tour the incredibly spacious master suite, which included a marble bathroom with a huge clawfoot bathtub and a separate shower, as well as several luxurious guest bedrooms, each with its own bathroom.
"Your staff's rooms are located on the second floor, west side, so they can respond to your needs at any time," Charles added.
Finally, they returned to the first floor, where Charles pushed open an inconspicuous door that blended into the wall paneling, behind which was a staircase leading to the basement.
"The basement features an entertainment area, including an RCA Victor 16mm film projector and a small screen, a standard-sized billiards table, and a bar equipped with a mini-fridge. You might want to relax here in your free time."
After touring the interior, Charles led Lin Yan out through a glass door in the kitchen to the private courtyard at the back of the house.
While not as expansive as a country estate, the courtyard is a rare find in the prime Upper East Side. Surrounded by high brick walls and dense evergreen shrubs, it ensures absolute privacy. In the center is a small lawn manicured like a green carpet, with a delicate birdbath sculpture in the corner—a more refined feature than a fountain. A winding gravel path leads to a small conservatory made of wrought iron and glass, where delicate orchids and ferns are cultivated.
Adjacent to the main house is an open-air dining area paved with stone slabs, furnished with a cast-iron carved table and four matching chairs, all under a large canvas parasol. One can imagine the charm of enjoying a drink here on a summer night.
"The yard is maintained twice a week by professional gardeners," Charles explained. "If you need to host an outdoor party, we can set it up anytime."
Throughout the tour, Charles's introduction was professional and concise, without a trace of unnecessary boasting, yet he presented every advantage and detail of the mansion perfectly. Lin Gang and Wang Yuling followed silently behind, cautiously assessing the security and visibility of every corner.
Lin Yan stood in the center of the courtyard, appreciating the understated luxury. It possessed both the heritage of old-money businesses and the modern vitality of the post-war era.
"Very good, Charles," Lin Yan finally spoke, a hint of satisfaction in his voice. "I'm very satisfied here. Tell Winters he did a good job."
"As you command, young master." Charles bowed slightly. "Dinner is ready. Would you prefer to dine in the dining room or in the courtyard?"
"Let's just stay at the restaurant." Lin Yan turned and walked into the house. "Oh, and make sure you have the keys to both Lincolns ready tomorrow."
"Of course, young master," Charles replied respectfully, silently withdrawing to make arrangements.
Lin Yan smiled and said to Lin Er and the others, "This group of people has assimilated into the local culture quite well. They look very professional. From their speech and mannerisms to their temperament, you can't see any trace of Easterners."
As night fell completely, the lights in the villa came on one by one, casting a warm and tranquil glow over this luxurious residence located in the heart of Manhattan.