Great Power Reclamation

Chapter 2862 Using Contrast to Slap Faces in the Face

Before he could finish speaking, Al Thani of Qatar sent an urgent video.

In the footage, three hundred modified vehicles are operating on an oil drilling platform in the Persian Gulf when a sudden sandstorm reduces visibility to less than five meters.

"Schneider just contacted me and said they can provide sand-proof filters, but they want us to terminate our cooperation with China."

He pointed to the still-functioning filtration system on the vehicle:

"But your engineers already figured it out. If you take this thing apart, it's just a regular window screen with an electrostatic adsorption device inside. It costs less than one-tenth of theirs!"

Ivan suddenly laughed, turned around and took a drawing from the drawer:
"This is a 'three-proof' hydrogen storage tank designed for mining areas in Africa, which is sandproof, corrosionproof, and impactproof."

His fingertips traced the weld seam on the blueprint: "Let them sue. By the time our car has been running in the Sahara for ten years, the patent office papers will have long since turned yellow."

Late at night in New York, Ye Feng had just finished a meeting with the Governor of California when his phone received an encrypted message. It was from an insider at the Department of Energy:

ExxonMobil, in conjunction with five other oil companies, plans to build an oil pipeline in Texas, circumventing environmental reviews under the pretext of "ensuring energy security."

He immediately turned on his computer and pulled up the oil field pollution data held by the Future Progressive Party.

Three years ago, an oil spill in Texas left 200,000 acres of grassland barren, and the cleanup costs have yet to be settled.

“Hold a press conference tomorrow,” he messaged his team. “Project these photos on the big screen on Capitol Hill—when petrodollars have flowed through land and nothing grows, who is the real security threat?”

On the day of the press conference, a light rain was falling. Ye Feng stood in front of the large screen, with a starkly contrasting image behind him.

On the left is a cotton field under the photovoltaic panels of Junken City, and on the right is a dead bird at the site of the Texas leak.

"The Warriors Group has been fighting desertification in Inner Mongolia for twenty years," he said, holding up a United Nations report.

"For every car they sell, they plant ten trees. Some companies, on the other hand, leave behind three cents of environmental debt for every dollar they earn."

Suddenly, several protesters rushed out of the crowd, holding signs that read "Go back to China".

Ye Feng did not retreat, but instead took a step forward:
"My grandfather was a soldier who worked on land reclamation projects, and he planted the first wheat field here!"

"My father's military vehicles are all over the world, and his chips are a household name!"

“My brother turned the desert into a solar industrial park; I’m standing here now not for any company, but so that kids in Texas can see the stars—instead of coughing in oil fumes.”

These words were broadcast live globally, and engineers at the military reclamation city's R&D center cheered around the screen.

Wang Lina's phone suddenly rang; it was the purchasing director from Volkswagen Group.

"The EU's anti-subsidy investigation has been suspended, and we want to import 5,000 sets of battery modules for use in electric vehicle production lines in Germany."

He paused for a moment, then said, "An environmental organization in Berlin just sent me an email saying they want to nominate the 'dual-energy vehicle' for the annual Green Innovation Award."

Ivan suddenly slammed his hand on the table and pointed to the scrolling news on the screen:

General Motors' patent lawsuit was dismissed by the court on the grounds of "lack of substantial technical comparison, prompting the Department of Justice to prepare a countersuit."

He picked up a test report. "Their fuel cell failed to start at -10°C, yet they dare to sue us for infringement? By the way, send this data to Tesla—isn't Musk planning to build a hydrogen-powered pickup truck? Let him see what real technology is."

At this moment in Africa, Yang Geyong is standing on the construction site of a photovoltaic hydrogen production base.

Fifty "dual-energy vehicles" are transporting photovoltaic panels, and the water in the ruts is nourishing the baobab trees along the roadside.

With the support of new energy sources and desert transformation technologies, Marseille and the Solomon Islands have distinguished themselves in Africa.

"Shell just sent someone over and said they're willing to exchange our technology for a stake in an oil field in Nigeria."

He kicked at the gravel under his feet. “I told them that back then, people here couldn’t drink clean water, but now the water emitted by the hydrogen-powered vehicles is enough for the whole village to use for three days—this kind of business is more ethical than oil mining.”

When the news reached Junken City, Ye Yuze was inspecting a hydrogen-powered planter in a cotton field.

Where the machine passed, cotton seeds were evenly buried in the soil, and the moisture released condensed into small water droplets in the sunlight, falling on the newly sprouted wheat seedlings.

"Ye Feng just said that the Progressive Party has won the support of three more swing state legislators."

Li Lindong handed over an order: "The Brazilian Rainforest Foundation needs two hundred patrol vehicles, the kind with biodegradable devices—they say that with our vehicles, we can both catch poachers and water endangered tree species."

On the distant highway, a convoy of trucks with EU license plates is unloading goods.

The truck was loaded with parts from the Bosch Group—Schneider finally relented, not only resuming supply but also voluntarily reducing prices by 20%.

“Their engineers secretly came to inspect our production line,” Agura said with a laugh. “When they saw that Ivan had achieved a fuel valve precision of 0.02 millimeters, they turned pale.”

As night fell, Ye Yuze received a video from Ye Feng.

On the lawn of Capitol Hill, Future Progressive Party members, together with environmental organizations, are refueling a hydrogen-powered car.

The vehicle bears a new slogan: "Energy knows no East or West, only clean or dirty."

"The newly passed Infrastructure Act allocates $5 billion for the construction of hydrogen refueling stations."

Ye Feng's voice was tired but couldn't hide his excitement:
"The Texas oil tycoons are still making a fuss, but yesterday's poll showed that 72% of voters support the development of hydrogen energy—they may be able to bribe lawmakers, but they can't buy the eyes of ordinary people."

Looking at the fine lines around his son's eyes on the screen, Ye Yuze suddenly remembered the days and nights he spent testing in the desert.

"Do you remember when you were little, you always asked me why we planted trees in the sand?"

He said softly, "Now you should understand. Some roots go unseen when they first take hold, but once they grow strong and lush, they can naturally block the wind and sand."

After hanging up the phone, he walked to the window. The lights of the military reclamation city were already forming a continuous expanse, and the beam of light from the hydrogen refueling station pierced the night sky, illuminating the cotton fields being sown in the distance.

A dual-purpose vehicle slowly drove by, its water pipes leaving winding water trails on the field ridges, like a silver ribbon connecting the past and future of this land.

Ivan walked in carrying a stack of patent certificates, the top one of which read "Hydrogen-Powered Agricultural Machinery Closed-Loop System".

"I just received news that the German Agricultural Association wants to introduce this technology."

His eyes gleamed in the light: "They say that once the water from the tractors can be used to irrigate the fields, no one will miss the days of burning diesel anymore."

Ye Yuze took the certificate, his fingertips touching the embossed words on the paper, and suddenly remembered that many years ago, this land was still a desert.

Back then, no one could have imagined that one day, the blue of solar panels would intertwine with the white of cotton fields, and the water from hydrogen-powered vehicles would nourish the green of vegetation.

And those struggles and perseverance regarding energy will eventually grow into a hope that lasts longer than spring, where the wheels have rolled.

The research and development center in the distance was still brightly lit, and the sounds of engineers arguing could be faintly heard.

Ye Yuze knew that this battle was far from over—the futures curve on Wall Street was still fluctuating, the bills on Capitol Hill were still being revised, and Schneider's emails still contained probing questions.

But as long as the lights of the military reclamation city remain lit, as long as those vehicles still run on the land, and as long as the smiles of those fighting desertification remain, this road will always be worth walking. Just like the moonlight outside the window right now, passing through the clouds and falling into the puddles at the hydrogen refueling station, reflecting a sky full of stars. Those stars are both the sweat of the past and the seeds of the future.

Just as Ye Yuze finished signing the documents at the newly completed hydrogen-powered agricultural machinery testing center, Li Lindong rushed in with an encrypted telegram.

The telegram was sent by Ye Feng from Washington; it contained only one line:

"The U.S. Department of Justice has its eye on the Future Progressive Party, saying we are suspected of 'foreign capital infiltration'."

Outside the window, the hydrogen-powered seeder developed by Ivan's team is working in the cotton field. The robotic arm precisely buries the cotton seeds into the soil, and the water droplets discharged from the rear of the vehicle fall on the freshly tilled land, leaving dark dots.

"When they couldn't find any issues with the funds, they started bringing up 'nationality'."

Ye Yuze stroked the handwriting on the telegram, suddenly recalling what Ye Feng had said on the day he took over the Warrior Group:
"Dad, don't worry, I will never forget that I am Chinese and my hometown is Junken City."

At this moment in Washington, Ye Feng was sitting in a hearing room on Capitol Hill. The Republican congressman opposite him held up a photo he had taken ten years earlier during a visit to a military reclamation town, his tone sharp:

"You're pushing for energy legislation as a U.S. citizen while simultaneously having your family business secure contracts in Qatar. Isn't that a transfer of benefits?"

Ye Feng calmly opened the folder, which contained the Future Progressive Party's financial statements.

“Over the past three years, 92% of the political donations we have received have come from local environmental organizations and new energy companies.”

He pointed to one of the pages, “But your district received $20 million in campaign funding from ExxonMobil last year—should I read you their crude oil export data?”

The large screen behind the hearing bench suddenly lit up, showing footage of pollution discharge from the Texas refinery.

Black wastewater flowed down the river, and the reeds on the banks had long since withered and turned yellow.

"This is the Environmental Protection Administration's test report from last week!"

Ye Feng's voice echoed throughout the venue through the microphone: "The groundwater there contains 17 times more benzene than the standard, yet you're discussing whether a hydrogen fuel cell vehicle is 'compliant'."

A low murmur arose from the crowd. Ye Feng suddenly stood up and pointed to the Stars and Stripes fluttering outside the window:

"Although my ancestral home is China, who doesn't know my father's and uncle's names?"

"I stand here now so that the children of this land can see the history of oil drilling and breathe air without black smoke—isn't that part of the American Dream?"

As the hearing ended, reporters swarmed into the hallway.

CNN's camera focused on the hydrogen fuel cell vehicle badge on his chest and asked, "There are reports that the U.S. Department of Commerce will add Warrior Group to the 'Entity List.' What's your opinion?"

Ye Feng turned away from the camera, his gaze falling on the protesters not far away—those people were holding signs that read "Defend Energy Sovereignty," unaware that the plastic sheeting used for the signs was made from Saudi Aramco's crude oil.

"The Entity List can stop the supply of parts, but it can't stop the technology!"

His voice suddenly rose, “When we built our factory in Mexico last year, the local workers used tractors to modify hydrogen storage tanks, which were more durable than the models in the lab—true innovation is always on the land, not on the list.”

In the research and development center of Junken City, Wang Lina was staring at the battery test data on the screen.

The EU suddenly announced a 30% increase in carbon emission standards for electric vehicles, meaning that the Lightning 7 will not be able to enter the European market without upgrading its battery.

"Volkswagen just sent an email saying they are willing to share solid-state battery patents on the condition that we give up building a factory in Munich."

Wang Nannan slammed an agreement on the table. "They calculated that our production line renovation would take at least six months."

Wang Lina suddenly smiled and opened the video Ivan had sent.

On the Mongolian grasslands, herders are using the hydrogen storage tank of a "dual-energy vehicle" to charge their electric vehicles, completing a perfect switch between the two energy sources in the snow.

"Tell the public that our removable battery module has been certified by the European Union."

She pointed to the fluctuating range curve on the screen, "Starting tomorrow, the energy systems of 'Lightning 7' and 'Dual-Energy Vehicle' will be fully compatible—they want to strangle us, so we'll build them a bridge."

Ivan's team was busy debugging the new hydrogen fuel valve.

Bosch Group suddenly announced that it would stop supplying core sealing rings, citing "technical upgrades" as the reason.

"Look how underhanded their trick is!" Ivan picked up a homemade sealing ring with tweezers; the rubber surface gleamed with a metallic sheen.

"This is made with natural rubber from Mongolia and carbon fiber, and its temperature resistance range is 20°C wider than Bosch's, while costing half the price—"

“Yesterday, Agula brought the formula from the grassland. The herders said that this stuff has been used to bind sheep for three generations and is more reliable than any patent.”

In the Qatari desert, Al Thani is directing workers to install drilling equipment on a dual-purpose vehicle.

Three hundred vehicles have been running in the oil field for half a year. The water circulation system at the rear of the vehicles has not only solved the water problem for the drilling team, but also created an oasis on the sand dunes.

"Chevron from the United States just came to discuss cooperation, saying they are willing to exchange the rights to exploit oil fields in Iraq for technology."

He laughed into the satellite phone: "I told them that the engineers in the military reclamation city said that true energy freedom is not about how much oil you dig, but about making every drop of water useful."

In the dead of night in the military reclamation city, Ye Yuze received photos sent by Yang Geyong from Africa:
At the construction site of the photovoltaic hydrogen production base, dark-skinned workers are assembling hydrogen storage tanks with Chinese engineers. A line of Chinese characters is written on a blackboard nearby:
"Hydrogen energy knows no borders, and technology serves the people."

“Shell people are here again,” Yang Geyong said, his voice hoarse from the wind and sand.

"They said they wanted to invest in our photovoltaic project, on the condition that priority be given to supplying Europe—I told them to ask the local farmers whether they agreed or not."

The next morning, Li Lindong rushed into the office with an urgent document:

"The EU suddenly announced an anti-dumping investigation into Chinese hydrogen energy equipment, with tariffs potentially reaching as high as 45%."

“But Schneider just called secretly,” he said in a low voice.

"They say Bosch's production lines can't keep up with global orders, and they're willing to rent out their old German factory to us at a low price—that's just a lip service."

Ye Yuze opened the document, inside which was a map of Europe, with red markings densely distributed across the industrial areas of Germany, France, and Spain.

"Have Ivan compile the production drawings for the hydrogen fuel valve."

He suddenly stood up and said, “Tell Schneider that we can cooperate, but the patents must be shared—make them understand that the technology forged in the desert cannot be monopolized by anyone.”

At that time in Washington, Ye Feng was signing a cooperation agreement with the Governor of California. They planned to build one hundred hydrogen refueling stations in the San Francisco Bay Area, powered by photovoltaic panels, with hydrogen storage tanks made from rare earth materials from Mongolia.

"The U.S. Department of Energy just sent a message saying they are willing to provide subsidies."

The governor's finger traced the terms of the agreement:
"The premise is that the technology must be produced domestically—the legislators from those oil-producing states have finally relented."

Looking at the rainbow flag fluttering outside the window, Ye Feng suddenly remembered what his father had said:
"Coexistence is worse than confrontation, just like solar panels and cotton fields; neither can grow crops without the other."

He picked up his phone and sent a message to the military reclamation city:
“Send over the North American design drawings of the ‘dual-energy vehicle’ and add a cargo box that cowboys like—let them see that hydrogen-powered vehicles can not only run in the desert, but also roam freely on Texas ranches.”