Great Power Reclamation

As night deepened, moonlight filtered through the gauze curtains, casting dappled shadows on the carpet.

Yuanfang leaned against Ye Feng's chest, her fingers unconsciously tracing the scar on his chest—

That was a scratch he sustained years ago at the Warrior Factory from flying parts. Now faded to a light pink, it's like a medal, marking the path he took after taking over the Warrior Group.

Do you remember the first time I went to your little office?

Yuanfang suddenly spoke, her voice slightly dazed, "The walls were covered with battery structure diagrams, and the coffee stains on the table could form a crust. I thought to myself, this man is probably going to spend his whole life with blueprints."

Ye Feng chuckled softly, tightening his arms around her and pulling her closer.

"Back then, we had just taken over the business. The old workers were used to hard work and struggle, and even my love for coffee was considered an oddity by them."

He paused, his fingertips tracing the ends of her hair. "That pothos plant you gave me died three times before it finally came back to life."

"It's your own fault for not knowing how to raise a child."

Yuanfang pinched him, but her tone softened. "Later, every time I visited you, I secretly changed the potting mix. Actually, I was afraid you wouldn't make it, and I was also afraid you'd know I was worried, so I could only try to find ways to give you some life."

Ye Feng fell silent. He recalled the days when traditional energy conglomerates cut off his loans, the office lights stayed on until three in the morning, the pothos plants on his desk drooped, and Yuan Fang would always bring him hot porridge in the early morning, pretending she had bought it on her way.

At that time, her brother was also very busy with film and television, but she didn't care at all and always showed him her most composed smile.

"Yini drew a family portrait at kindergarten today."

Yuanfang suddenly changed the subject, tapping his chin with her fingertip:

"I drew you taller than a tree, and said that Daddy is Superman who can block all bad guys."

Ye Feng's Adam's apple bobbed. The interrogation documents he had seen on Capitol Hill during the day, the glass shattered on the union negotiating table, and the anonymous threatening emails he received late at night all softened at this moment when his daughter called him "Superman" in her childish voice.

He sat up and reached for his cigarette case on the bedside table, but Yuanfang stopped him.

"Smoke less." She snatched the cigarette pack and stuffed it into the drawer.

"Wang Nannan called this afternoon and said that the environmental impact assessment report for the solid-state battery production line has been blocked by the state of Michigan."

"I asked around and found out that the energy consortium bribed the state legislator to deliberately delay the approval."

Ye Feng's brows furrowed instantly. He knew this day would come. The victory of the auto parts bill was just a prelude; traditional energy conglomerates had deep roots in Michigan, and in the Detroit auto union alone, three vice presidents were their people.

"Have Zhang Qiming back up all the technical parameters tomorrow, and I will personally go to the state government."

Ye Feng threw off the covers, got out of bed, walked to the window, and pulled back the curtains. In the distance, the research and development center of the Warrior Group was still lit up, like a lighthouse that never goes out.

"They want to block the environmental assessment? Then let them see how much cleaner our battery production line is than their oil refinery."

Yuanfang got up and took his shirt out of the closet to iron it:
"Should we ask Lucy to put in a good word? She has connections in the Senate..."

"No need," Ye Feng interrupted her, his voice firm and resolute.
"This time, we need to let real results speak for themselves. Politicians' promises are a weathervane, but the hard power of real industries is the stabilizing force."

He turned to look at her, a light flickering in his eyes. "Do you remember Lao Zheng? The old engineer who spent ten years in the battery lab. He was diagnosed with lung cancer last week, and it's in its late stages."

Yuanfang paused. She recognized Lao Zheng; he always wore faded blue overalls and spoke with a heavy Sichuan accent. Every time she saw him, he would smile憨厚ly and say that President Ye had married a good wife.

“He texted me yesterday, saying that his biggest wish in life is to see our solid-state batteries installed in cars and running.”

Ye Feng's voice was a little tense, "I can't keep him waiting too long."

The iron sizzled as it swept across the shirt, steam welling up in Yuanfang's eyes.

She hung the ironed shirt on the hanger, then turned and hugged Ye Feng from behind:

“I’ll go with you. I’ll attend the state legislature hearing.”

Ye Feng held her hand; the warmth of his palm was very comforting.

He knew Yuanfang's personality; she looked gentle, but she was more resilient than anyone else. A while ago, when he was ostracized by the board of directors of his brother's investment bank, she accompanied him, carrying a thick stack of shareholder lists, to visit each of them to canvass for votes.

When the Warrior Group's first round of financing failed, she mortgaged her apartment to raise the initial deposit for the production line.

"No need, you stay home and keep Yini company."

He turned around and wiped away the tears from the corners of her eyes:
“This trip might turn into a very ugly situation, and I don’t want my child to know that her father is arguing with someone.”

Yuanfang sniffed, took a talisman from the drawer, and stuffed it into the inside pocket of his suit:
“I prayed for this at Mount Putuo, saying it could ward off disasters. You shouldn’t always think about confronting things head-on; sometimes taking a detour can make the road easier.”

Ye Feng pinched her cheek, smiling helplessly:

"I can't learn to beat around the bush from you. Look at our family's companies, which one didn't come out of the fire and battered the battlefield?"

He suddenly remembered something, pulled a document from his briefcase, and handed it to her:
"This is Pan Am Insurance's new employee medical plan, which provides the highest tier for all workers in the Warrior Group. The company will cover all of Lao Zheng's medical expenses."

Yuanfang opened the document, her finger pausing on the words "full coverage".

She knew Ye Feng's temperament; he didn't say kind words, but his actions always warmed people's hearts.

When one of her relatives was seriously ill, he quietly contacted the best doctors, ran around arranging hospitalization, and even secretly paid the medical expenses.

"By the way, did Steve Jobs text you yesterday to ask when you'd be free?"

Yuanfang closed the document, speaking as casually as if she were talking about the weather, "He said that Haitangguo mobile phones have broken market share records in Europe and he would like to invite you to a celebration banquet."

Ye Feng paused. Steve Jobs was a partner he met in the early days of his business; they were students back then, and he never imagined that in the blink of an eye, Jobs would become a world-renowned brand.

His friendship with Jobs was like a cup of lukewarm water—not scalding, but always warming at certain moments.

"Let's talk about it after things in Michigan are settled."

Ye Feng put the documents away and said calmly, "Tell him to postpone the celebration banquet so it can coincide with the solid-state battery loading. Let's hold it together."

Yuanfang nodded and didn't ask any further questions. After so many years together, she already understood him.

He has so many people on his mind—the old workers in the factory, the engineers in the laboratory, the young staff in the marketing department, and the ordinary people who are waiting to drive new energy vehicles.

For him, love was more like a haven when he was tired, rather than the entirety of his life.

"My flight is at seven o'clock tomorrow morning?" She folded her suit jacket and placed it on the bedside table. "I'll ask the housekeeper to make breakfast early."

"No need, I have to catch an early flight and leave at six." Ye Feng glanced at his watch; it was already one in the morning. "You and Yini can sleep a little longer. You don't need to see me off."

He leaned down and kissed her forehead, then whispered in her ear, "Once we're done with this busy period, let's take Yini back to the military reclamation city. She always says she wants to see her great-grandparents and grandparents."

Yuanfang's eyes lit up. Junken City was the root of the Ye family, and also her home. They hadn't been back for three years. Just a few days ago, her mother had sent a video saying she missed her and the children.

“Okay.” She tiptoed and kissed his chin back. “Then let Yini take a picture with the whole family and tell them that his granddaughter has grown up so much.”

Ye Feng felt a pang of sadness, a bittersweet warmth, as if something had struck his heart.

He remembered that his father had called him a while ago and said:

"Feng'er, don't always think about winning, think about whether it's worth it. Doing business is like growing grapes, you have to be patient and wait for them to take root and bear fruit. You can't rush it."

At first, he didn't understand and always felt that his father's words were too slow and couldn't keep up with the pace of Wall Street.

After taking over the Warrior Group and struggling in the real economy, I finally understood what my father meant by "worth it."

It's the choked-up emotion of an old worker receiving a full reimbursement slip, the cheers of an engineer seeing that the battery energy density meets the standard, and the pride of a daughter pointing to a new energy vehicle and saying, "The car Dad made doesn't smoke."

At 5:30 a.m., just as dawn was breaking, Ye Feng quietly finished washing up and went to his daughter's room.

Yini was fast asleep, her little face rosy, holding a car model in her arms, which was the latest new energy vehicle from the Warrior Group.

He knelt down and kissed his daughter's forehead, his touch as gentle as if afraid of waking a butterfly. The little one smacked her lips and murmured in her sleep, "Daddy's car, the stars that can run..."

Ye Feng smiled, the weariness in his eyes lessened considerably by the warmth. He stood up, took one last look at his sleeping daughter, and turned to leave the room.

On the dining table in the living room, there was a thermos, and next to it was a note in Yuanfang's handwriting:

"The porridge is made with millet and pumpkin, and served with some pickled vegetables. If it gets cold on the plane, ask the flight attendant to heat it up for you."

He picked up the thermos and glanced at the family photo on the wall.

In the photo, Yuanfang is holding Yini, and he stands beside her, his suit wrinkled, but his smile is bright.

That was taken on the first day after taking over the Warrior Group. In the background, the employees are holding up celebratory banners, and everyone's face is full of drive.

As I stepped out of the villa, morning dew still clung to the lawn, and the air smelled of fresh grass. The driver had already parked the car at the gate, its headlights piercing the morning mist like two guiding lights.

Ye Feng got into the car and placed the thermos on his lap.

My phone vibrated. It was a message from Lucy: "An assistant to a Michigan state senator received three million dollars from an energy consortium. The evidence is attached. We can expose it anytime if needed."

He opened the attachment, which contained bank transfer records and call recordings, as clear as a textbook.

Lucy always manages to deliver the sharpest sword at crucial moments, which is why he's willing to cooperate with her—she understands the rules, and even more so, she knows how to break them.

Ye Feng hesitated for a few seconds before replying, "Save it for now. Don't use it unless absolutely necessary."

He knew Lucy's methods and understood that once the evidence of those three million dollars was exposed, it would be enough to ruin the reputations of those congressmen.

But he understood even better that the battlefield of industry shouldn't be just about intrigue and trickery. What he wanted wasn't to trample his competitors underfoot, but to show everyone that the era of new energy had truly arrived.

As the car entered the highway, the sky began to lighten with the first hint of dawn. Ye Feng opened the thermos, and the aroma of millet porridge wafted out, mingling with the morning light streaming through the window, warming his stomach comfortably.

He remembered what Yuanfang had said: "The road is made by walking; what's wrong with getting a little muddy?"

Yes, what are you afraid of?

Old Zheng is still waiting for news at the hospital, the workers on the production line are waiting to start work, his daughter is waiting to ride in the car her father built, and there are millions of ordinary people like the old worker who hope for less smoke emissions.

He took a sip of porridge, then took out his phone to send a message to Wang Nannan:
"I'll have the lab prepare the battery safety test report, and when I get to the state government, I'll go straight to the hearing."

When the success notification popped up, the car had already entered the airport expressway.

The distant horizon grew brighter, and golden sunlight pierced through the clouds, turning the sky amber. Ye Feng gazed at the passing traffic outside the window and suddenly felt all his weariness vanish.

The road ahead is long and there are many things to do, but as long as we are heading in the right direction, what does it matter if we are covered in mud or if the journey is difficult?

After all, the lives waiting to be changed, the changes that are already happening, are all waiting for him ahead.

As the plane took off, Ye Feng turned off his phone, leaned back in his seat, and closed his eyes. It was a habit; actually, using a phone on a plane didn't have much of an impact, especially on his private jet.

But he prefers to use this time to rest for a while.

In his dream, he seemed to have returned to the warrior group ten years ago. The old worker held his hand, and the calluses on his palm made the back of his hand itch.
"Mr. Ye, could you make the cars that emit less smoke? Otherwise, the more cars there are in the world, the less healthy people will be..."

He hadn't dared to answer before, but this time he could answer with certainty: "Yes. It's definitely possible."

Sunlight streamed through the porthole, illuminating his face like a layer of golden armor. He had much to do and many roads to travel, but the thought of those waiting for him would keep him going.

Because he knew that he was building more than just cars; he was building the hopes of countless people. And that hope was worth his unwavering commitment, even covered in mud.

When the plane landed at Detroit Metropolitan Airport, it was drizzling in Michigan.

As Ye Feng stepped out of the cabin, the damp air, carrying the mixed smell of rust and gasoline, hit him—a unique scent of Detroit, containing both the glory of the traditional auto industry and the stagnation of a transitional period.

Wang Nannan had been waiting at the arrival gate for half an hour, and the corners of her suit jacket were wet from the rain.

She took Ye Feng's suitcase, her voice very low:

"The state legislature hearing was scheduled for 2 p.m., and the energy consortium's legal team arrived early in the morning. I heard they brought three expert witnesses."

"Expert witnesses?"

Ye Feng loosened his tie and handed the thermos to Wang Nannan:
Is it research on 'sustainable development of traditional energy' or 'the dangers of new energy'?

Wang Nannan smiled wryly: "They all do. The one in the lead is Professor Hoffman from the Department of Energy at the University of Michigan, who just received a research grant from an oil giant last year."

Ye Feng didn't reply, his gaze falling on the billboard in the parking lot. Next to a faded Chevrolet poster was a huge lightbox for the Warrior Group—

Underneath the light blue solid-state battery image is the text, "Every charge is a hug for the Earth."

This was the draft personally finalized by Ye Feng, and it stood out remarkably clear in the rain. (End of Chapter)