Great Power Reclamation

Chapter 2878 Marshal Ye's wedding must be held in the military reclamation city

In late autumn in Belgorod, the wheat fields have been harvested, and the straw is piled into golden stacks on the field ridges.

Marshal Ye stood before the floor-to-ceiling windows of the state government building, gazing at the state flag fluttering in the square below, his fingertips unconsciously stroking the wheat seed necklace in his pocket—

That was the one Xiao Di strung together for him last year, using the first batch of "Lianli" wheat seeds.

The documents on the desk were piled up like a small mountain, with the second phase of the Siberian permafrost development plan on top, stamped with a prominent red seal.

When the secretary knocked and entered, he was frowning at the irrigation canal route on the map:
"Tell the Agriculture Department that the drip irrigation pipes in the Lake Baikal section must be made of PE material produced in China, and even a difference of 0.5 in the low temperature resistance coefficient is unacceptable."

"Mr. Governor, Lieutenant Governor Ivanovich is waiting for you in the conference room,"

The secretary handed over the schedule, saying, "You have thirty minutes left. You will have a video conference with the Department of Energy to discuss grid connection of solar panels."

Marshal Ye pinched the bridge of his nose, only then realizing that he hadn't been to the experimental station for three months.

The wheat seedling growth report that Xiaodi sent last week is still under the documents. The seedlings in the photo have sprouted new leaves, and she wrote in red pen next to them:
"The third group of cold-resistant genes has mutated. We'll sequence it together when you come back."

In the conference room, Ivanovic was gesturing in front of the projection screen:
"The higher-ups are pushing hard to include our 'Lianli' wheat variety in the national seed bank, but we have to apply under the federal government's name."

“No,” Marshal Ye pulled out a chair. “The intellectual property rights of the seeds must belong to the Huaxia team by half. This was agreed upon when we signed the agreement with Junken City.”

"You are the governor now, not a technician at the testing station:"

"One congressman banged on the table. 'Federal funding is more important than these empty titles.'"

Just as Marshal Ye was about to retort, his phone vibrated; it was a video request from Xiao Di. He walked to the corridor and answered it. On the screen, snow was falling in the seedling shed, and Xiao Di was wrapped in a military overcoat, her eyelashes frosted with white.

"Look, we've cultivated purple wheat ears!"

The camera pans to the experimental field, where deep purple wheat waves ripple in the wind like flowing jewels.

"It contains five times more anthocyanins than ordinary wheat, and can be used as a natural pigment."

She smiled and twirled around, the hem of her military coat sweeping through the snow. "When are you coming back? The sensor data is a bit abnormal; I can't keep up with the measurements by myself."

Marshal Ye's Adam's apple bobbed, and his secretary's voice came from behind him: "Governor, the meeting is about to begin."

“I… next week,” he looked away, “you can have Vasily keep an eye on things for you.”

The smile on Xiao Di's face faded, and the camera shook, as if his hand had slipped.
"Marshal Ye, do you remember what we said in the desert? You said you would stay in the experimental field for the rest of your life, so that every seed would recognize our footprints."

"What I'm doing now is to enable more experimental fields to be established,"

His voice tightened, "After this busy period is over..."

"Once you're done with your current tasks, new ones will come up, right?"

Xiao Di interrupted him, and the static in the camera lens suddenly increased.

"The earthy smell on you is fading, and you're starting to smell like Ivanovic in perfume."

The phone call was abruptly ended. Marshal Ye stood in the corridor and heard discussions coming from the conference room.

Sunlight streamed through the glass window, casting a grid pattern on the floor, like his life, which was divided in two.

At the celebration banquet that evening, Marshal Ye was surrounded by a group of politicians toasting him.

The crystal chandelier's light was dazzling. Looking at the family crest on his suit sleeve, he suddenly remembered the way Xiao Di had mended his work clothes for him—

She always said that patches are prettier than badges; they are medals given by the land.

"I heard that you and the breeding expert from China are getting married soon?"

The Minister of Agriculture raised his glass and smiled, "If we could form an alliance with China's agricultural sector, our seed exports would be even smoother."

Marshal Ye gripped his wine glass tightly, spilling wine onto his sleeve: "My affair with her has nothing to do with politics."

"You no longer have the right to say such things."

The congressman whispered in his ear, "Don't forget who helped you suppress those questions in parliament."

He left the banquet early and drove to the test station, where the snow was already falling heavily.

The lights in the seedling shed were still on. Xiao Di was asleep on the lab table, with a gene sequencing map spread out in front of him. A small question mark was drawn next to the words "variant site" in pencil.

Marshal Ye gently draped his coat over her shoulders and noticed the glass bottle on the corner of the table—

It contained desert sand, Lake Baikal water, and the first wheat seeds they had jointly cultivated. The label was written by him.
"In 2013, in the military reclamation city, the first seed planted by Marshal Ye and Xiao Di."

The next morning, Xiao Di discovered that Marshal Ye had not left and was squatting in the experimental field, digging through the frozen soil with his hands to check the wheat roots.

He put back on his faded work clothes, the cuffs stained with black mud, and when he saw her, his eyes shone like stars.

"I've discovered that the mutation is caused by trace elements in the soil, so we need to adjust our fertilization plan."

"Don't you have to go to work?" Xiao Di handed over the thermos.

“I took leave,” he said, taking the cup. His fingertips touched her hand, and he recoiled as if he’d been electrocuted. “Actually… I want to resign.”

Xiao Di was stunned, watching him squat in the field, carefully straightening the crooked wheat seedlings:
“In the six months I’ve been governor, I’ve approved twenty agricultural projects, but I haven’t even been able to take care of our own experimental fields. The other day you said I didn’t smell of soil anymore, so I went back and smelled myself, and it really wasn’t.”

“Marshal Ye,” she said, squatting down beside him as they looked at the wheat field.

"Uncle Ye once said that land does not recognize titles, but those who govern the land must stand tall to see far. Do you remember when we got lost in the desert? We only found our way after climbing to the top of a sand dune."

He was about to speak when his phone rang; it was a call from home. Ivana's voice was trembling with tears:

"Your dad...your dad's here!"

Ye Yuze stood in the living room of the manor, his military green coat still covered in dust.

He looked older than in the photo, with deep wrinkles around his eyes, but his posture was ramrod straight. When he saw Marshal Ye, he merely glanced at him indifferently.
"I heard you're going to resign?" "Dad," Marshal Ye's Adam's apple bobbed, "I'm not cut out to be a politician."

"Who is born to be a politician?"

Ye Yuze walked to the fireplace and looked at the old photos hanging on the wall—a photo of him and Ivana when they were young, with cotton fields in the background.

"When I founded the Warriors Group, I had to manage technology, recruit talent, and coordinate relationships with various parties. I had to learn everything from scratch."

Ivanovic brought in tea, paused for a moment when he saw Ye Yuze, then gave him a bear hug:
"Old buddy, you've finally come."

Ye Yuze patted his back: "Back then, I was a kid and you were a soldier. You always said we would succeed. Now we have."

"A man's word must be his bond!" Ivanovic laughed heartily.

"Marshal Ye is too stubborn; someone has to give him a good talking to. Only you, as his father, can handle this."

After saying that, he took out a cigar and handed it over.

Ye Yuze didn't take the cigarette. Instead, he took out a leather notebook from his bag and opened the yellowed pages:
"This is your maternal grandfather's older brother's diary from 1952."

The handwriting in the diary was crooked and messy, recording the temperature and soil moisture on the Kamchatka Peninsula. The last page had a simple irrigation diagram drawn next to it, with the words:

"If an irrigation canal can be built, the frozen soil can be turned into fertile fields. However, individual efforts are limited, and we need the help of the state."

"Why do you think your grandfather wanted you to go into politics?"

Ye Yuze closed his diary. "He didn't want you to be an aristocrat, he wanted you to become someone who could build irrigation canals. If his brother had had the authority to mobilize machinery back then, why would he have frozen to death in his tent?"

Marshal Ye stared at the diary, his fingertips tracing the rough pages. Xiao Di walked in, carrying a glass jar filled with purple wheat seeds.
"Uncle Ye, this is a new variety we've cultivated. Do you think it's possible to try planting it in Junken City?"

Ye Yuze took the jar, looked at it against the light, and suddenly smiled:
"From now on, you should address her differently. What are you calling Uncle Ye? I, Ye Yuze, will accept a daughter-in-law like this!"

He turned to Ivana, his eyes filled with a tenderness like melting snow:
"Back then, she always said she wanted to make herself a wedding dress, and that she would use the first batch of cotton to make one. But after waiting for thirty years, the wedding dress was still not made, and she grew old first. I owe you a wedding dress."

Ivana's eyes reddened, and she turned her face away to wipe her tears.
"I don't blame you, because when we met you already had a wife and a bunch of women..."

"Life is full of regrets, and perhaps imperfection is the essence of this world, but I love you and thank you for giving me such an excellent son."

Ye Yuze grasped her hand. "But this time, I'm here on serious business."

He took two documents out of his bag and placed them on the table:
"The first one is a cooperation agreement between the Chinese Ministry of Agriculture and Belgorod Oblast, the 'Lianli' wheat variety promotion project, led by Xiao Di, with China providing technical support and the Ukrainian side responsible for land planning."

He pointed to the second document: "The second one is about your wedding. Your mother and I have discussed it and decided to hold the wedding in Junken City next month. We will use the newly harvested wheat to make wedding cakes so that the villagers of Junken City can share in the joy."

Xiao Di and Marshal Ye clasped hands tightly in excitement, unsure of what to say.
Grandpa sat on the sofa without saying a word, but picked up the three Soviet medals and gently placed them in front of Ye Yuze. The medals gleamed under the light, as if telling a story.

Ivanovic frowned: "Holding a wedding in China? Isn't that a bit too hasty?"

"I couldn't give Ivana a wedding, but I can't leave this regret to the children."

Ye Yuze looked at him and said, "This child's surname is Ye, so the wedding must be held in Junken City. You all have to attend. If you feel it's unfair, we can always hold it here again."

Ivana suddenly smiled, wiping away her tears: "I support it. I've wanted to go to the military reclamation city for a long time. I heard that the cotton there blooms even more beautifully than the sunflowers in Belgorod."

Grandpa finally spoke, his voice gentler than usual:
“The wedding can be held in China, but we must wear our family’s traditional attire. Also, when the child is born, he/she must learn our language, and of course, Chinese as well—he/she must recognize the black soil here, and not forget the yellow sand over there.”

Marshal Ye looked at Xiao Di, and the light in her eyes was like the constant temperature light in a seedling greenhouse, warming one's heart.

He suddenly realized that some seeds need to take root in the soil, while others need to be spread by the wind, and what he had to do was to give every seed a chance to grow.

The state government meeting was still ongoing, with Marshal Ye sitting in the main seat, holding a promotion plan for the "Lianli" wheat variety.

The Minister of Agriculture was still talking about the risks when he suddenly put the plan on the table:
“No matter how great the risk, someone has to try. Just like in 1953, someone brought rice seeds into the frozen ground; in 2015, someone brought back wheat seeds. Now, it’s our turn to take the seeds to even farther places.”

He turned to the last page of the plan, which featured an illustration drawn by Xiao Di:

A golden wheat field stretches out, with the military reclamation city of China on the left and the Belgorod estate on the right, connected by a bridge made of wheat straw.

“My wife said,” Marshal Ye’s voice was soft but powerful, “Love is like a seed; as long as you nurture it with care, it can take root anywhere. And good policies are like good soil, which can make millions of seeds grow hope.”

The snow outside the window has stopped, and sunlight shines through the clouds onto the conference room floor.

Marshal Ye seemed to see purple wheat ears swaying in the wind on the Siberian permafrost, like countless tiny flags telling the world:
This place was once an ice field; now it is a granary.

He took out his phone and sent a message to Xiao Di:

"Once we're done with this busy period, we'll go to the Kamchatka Peninsula to see how the rice seeds that Grandpa and my brother planted are growing."

I received a reply quickly, just a smiley face followed by the sentence: "Don't forget to bring the newly cultivated wheat seeds, so they can get to know those predecessors who have persevered on the frozen soil for more than half a century."

Marshal Ye smiled, his fingertips tapping lightly on the screen, as if caressing a seed about to sprout.

He knew that their story had only just begun to unfold, and that countless seeds lay waiting for them to sow and protect on this land that spanned borders.

Meanwhile, the military reclamation city was already bustling with activity. The third son of the Ye family was getting married, which was not only a matter for the Ye family, but also for the entire military reclamation city.

As a mother, Ivana arrived in the military settlement early to help with all the wedding arrangements, but in reality, she didn't need to do much because she didn't understand Chinese weddings.

Yu'e, the matriarch of the household, handled everything with ease, but she always consulted with Ivana before making any decisions.

Empress Dowager Mei Hua has left the sanatorium again. Although she is not needed for anything, she still needs to be in charge! The men of the Ye family cannot be relied on for these matters.

Since the bride's family is all Ukrainian, the wedding must be grand, not extravagant, but the atmosphere must be lively.

The people of Junken City were also worried. The Ye family did not accept gifts and did not even hold a banquet, which left people wondering how to celebrate.
They found Ma Quanyi, the old company commander who had fought alongside Ye Wancheng; he should have a solution.

Ma Quanyi waved his hand and said, "That's simple. Whether it's Ye Wancheng or Ye Yuze, they just don't allow us, the people of Junken City, to be extravagant and wasteful."

"But our ethnic brothers are helpless, just like last time, we need to think of a way to deal with this."

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