Great Power Reclamation

Chapter 2881 A Mess of Relationships

On the afternoon of the third day, Wu Mei was finally led to an open experimental site on the outskirts of the city.

This place is more like a huge open-air laboratory, a stark contrast to the orderly atmosphere of the city center.

A massive array of solar panels reflects the blinding sunlight, while several uniquely shaped, mechanically beautiful prototypes stand nearby.

Some resembled giant drilling equipment, while others looked like prototypes of future agricultural machinery. The air was filled with the unique mixed smells of engine oil, fresh soil, and metal exposed to the sun.

In the center of the field, a group of people were busy around a large, broken-down machine covered in mud. Wu Mei immediately spotted the figure surrounded in the middle.

Ye Yuze.

He completely lacked the poise and confidence of a "business tycoon" portrayed in photos and videos, always impeccably dressed and under the spotlight.

At that moment, he was wearing a faded dark blue canvas work uniform, with his trouser legs and cuffs covered in shiny black oil stains and brown mud spots.

He was kneeling on the muddy ground, half his body submerged under the machine's chassis, with wrenches, screwdrivers, and other tools scattered around him. A young engineer squatted anxiously beside him, explaining something rapidly.

"Mr. Ye, the sensor data is still unstable. We suspect it's due to the hydraulic coupling module under extreme load..."

"It's not a problem with the coupler!"

A deep, slightly hoarse, yet exceptionally clear and powerful voice emanated from beneath the machine, carrying an undeniable sense of authority:

"Listen to the sound! The clearance in the third bearing of the main drive shaft is too large, causing resonance under certain torque and interfering with the sensor circuitry next to it! Give me the endoscope!"

Immediately, someone handed him a device with a screen. Ye Yuze struggled to adjust his posture in the cramped space, his arm muscles tense.

Sweat streamed down his greasy temples and neck, leaving dark stains on his work uniform collar. He stared intently at the endoscope screen, his brow furrowed, his eyes sharp as a hawk's, completely absorbed in that world of gears and pipes.

The sunlight poured down without any obstruction, outlining the contours of his profile. It was the first time Wu Mei had seen him so clearly up close.

Deep nasolabial folds are etched at the corners of his mouth, and his temples are already streaked with gray—the marks left by time and immense pressure. His bronze complexion, honed by years of working in the field, is covered with a rough texture honed by wind and sand.

However, all of this did not diminish his presence; on the contrary, it gave him a rock-like weight and a hardened quality.

Especially those eyes, slightly narrowed from complete concentration, the whites of their eyes bloodshot from staying up all night, but a near-pure light burning deep within their pupils—

That is the light that belongs to pioneers, creators, and those who have poured their whole soul into their work—fiery, persistent, and penetrating through all fog.

This light, like a silent bolt of lightning, struck Wu Mei's heart without warning.

Her breath caught in her throat for a moment.

My heart felt as if it had been suddenly gripped by an invisible hand, then began to pound wildly against my chest, producing a dull and rapid echo.

Blood seemed to rush to her cheeks instantly, bringing a burning, dizzying sensation. She instinctively took a small step back, her fingers gripping the cold interview pen tightly, her nails almost digging into the plastic casing.

How could this be?
The "old man" in front of her, covered in oil and kneeling in the mud repairing machines, was a far cry from the image of the charismatic business leader she had seen on the cover of a financial magazine in the newspaper's archives before she set off.

This is completely at odds with the hypocrite she had preconceived notions of who was "morally corrupt" and "woman-playing"!

She tried to mobilize all her professional vigilance and moral criticism, and attempted to build a defense line to resist the huge impact brought by the image in front of her, using Editor-in-Chief Xie's hints, online rumors, and her own inherent "sense of justice".

However, those weapons now appear so vulnerable.

The veterans' heartfelt narration, the respect in the eyes of the technical director and senior engineers, the natural trust in the driver's words, and those hands stained with oil and those eyes burning with pure enthusiasm...

All these fragments collided and merged violently in her mind, ultimately converging into a question so heavy that she could barely bear it:
What she insisted on "exposing" was Ye Yuze's true "moral depravity," or... some kind of carefully constructed prejudice and trap that she herself was deeply entrenched in.

This question overwhelmed her like a cold tide. Standing under the blazing northwest sun, watching the figure working intently amidst the mud and engine oil, she felt a chilling cold and immense panic for the first time.

Her cherished journalistic ideals and her unwavering belief in justice seemed to slide into an unpredictable abyss at this moment, along with her suddenly out-of-control heartbeat.

Ye Yuze seemed to have solved the problem and stepped out from under the machine chassis. He stood up while vigorously wiping the oil stains off his hands with a clean cotton swab handed to him by someone nearby.

As he straightened up, his gaze inadvertently swept across the sidelines, and he met Wu Mei's eyes, which were filled with immense shock, confusion, and a hint of barely perceptible panic.

They looked at each other from a distance of more than ten meters, through the flying dust and the smell of engine oil.

Ye Yuze's eyes still carried the sharp lingering effect of resolving the problem, but then he seemed to recognize who she was, and that sharpness instantly transformed into a deep, all-seeing calm.

There was no polite smile on his face, just a slight nod as a greeting. But that calm gaze was like an invisible key, suddenly unlocking the crumbling door in Wu Mei's heart.

She almost hastily and awkwardly avoided his gaze, then abruptly lowered her head, pretending to jot something down quickly in her notebook.

However, on the pages of the notebook, there were only a few unconscious, messy, and deep lines, just like her completely chaotic state of mind at that moment.

The dry wind of the military reclamation city swept across the experimental field, carrying sand and dust, and ruffled the stray hairs on Wu Mei's forehead. She gripped the interview pen tightly, almost deforming it, her knuckles turning white from the force.

The sharp edges of the pen pressed painfully against her palm, but this distinct pain strangely became the only anchor she could grasp at that moment, a proof that she was still conscious.

Ye Yuze's calm glance was like a stone thrown into a deep pool, stirring up ripples in her heart that lingered for a long time.

There was no wariness, arrogance, or disdain in that gaze as she had expected; only a profound understanding born from a life well-traveled past.

It was as if all her carefully prepared "weapons," all her pre-set positions, and all her inner struggles and wavering were exposed to him.

This made her feel a sense of nakedness and panic she had never experienced before.

"Reporter Wu?" A gentle voice broke her reverie. It was Ye Yuze's assistant, a capable young woman who had somehow appeared beside her.

"Mr. Ye has finished dealing with things and he'd like to invite you over for a chat. It's dusty here, shall we go to the rest area over there?"

The assistant wore a professional smile, but her eyes keenly caught the lingering panic in the plum's eyes.

"Oh... okay, sure!"

Wu Mei snapped back to reality, forcibly suppressing the pounding in her heart and trying to make her voice sound steady.

She hurriedly closed the notebook, which was covered in messy drawings, and stuffed it into her canvas bag, her movements carrying a stiffness she herself was unaware of. The rest area was set up under a simple sunshade at the edge of the experimental site, with a few folding tables and chairs, a steaming thermos, and several enamel mugs beside it—simple to the point of being rudimentary.

Ye Yuze was already sitting there, having taken off his oil-stained outer work clothes, leaving him only in a slightly grayish crew neck T-shirt, revealing his muscular forearms.

He was drinking water from a large enamel mug, his Adam's apple bobbing powerfully with each swallow. Sweat left glistening streaks on his bronze skin.

Seeing Wu Mei approach, he put down the jar, casually wiped the water from the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand, and pointed to the chair opposite him:
"Reporter Wu, please sit down. The place is simple, I'm sorry." His voice was still low and hoarse, with a hint of fatigue, but with a strange, steady strength.

Ume sat down as instructed, trying to straighten her back and regain the professional demeanor of a reporter.

She took out her voice recorder, hesitated for a moment, then pressed the record button and opened her notebook—this time, she turned to a brand new page.

"Mr. Ye, thank you for taking the time out of your busy schedule to grant this interview."

She cleared her throat, trying to make her opening remarks sound professional:
"My main purpose in coming to Junken City this time is to learn about you personally and the Ye family. There is a lot of discussion and questioning about your personal life choices, especially online. For example, your relationships with several different women, and the background of Marshal Ye."

She tried to make her wording sound objective, but words like "personal life choices" and "discussions and questions" still inevitably carried a hint of interrogation.

As soon as she said it, Wu Mei's heart skipped a beat. She anticipated that the other party might fly into a rage, or retort with a cold laugh, or even end the interview abruptly.

However, Ye Yuze's reaction was beyond her expectations.

He didn't answer immediately, but instead picked up the enamel mug and took another sip of water.

His gaze passed over Wu Mei's head and landed on the distant experimental field that gleamed with metallic luster under the blazing sun. His eyes became somewhat distant, as if he were looking back on a long period of time.

Outside the shed, the wind swept through the sparse vegetation of the Gobi Desert, making a low, mournful sound.

“Ukrainian journalist,” he finally spoke, his voice calm, without anger or explanation, only a slow, deliberate statement of facts, “Have you seen the infrastructure company from over twenty years ago?”

Ume paused for a moment, then subconsciously shook her head: "No."

"That's a truly miserable place."

Ye Yuze's lips seemed to twitch slightly, as if in a smile, yet also as a sigh:
"The wind blows twice a year, and each time it lasts for half a year. We drink water from the irrigation ditch, which tastes salty and bitter, and live in mud-brick houses that leak in the summer and let in the wind in the winter."

By day, they cleared wasteland, repaired irrigation ditches, and farmed, exhausting themselves to the point of collapse. At night, lying on the kang (heated brick bed), listening to the howling wind outside, what were they thinking?

He paused, his gaze returning to Wu Mei's face, her bloodshot eyes now unusually deep:

"What I was thinking about was how to survive, how to make this damned land grow more food and feed more people."

"What I was thinking about was how to raise some money to buy a decent tractor for the company, so that people wouldn't be exhausted to death under the plow. What I was thinking about was how to sell the stockpiled agricultural products and exchange them for winter clothes and medicine..."

"Back then, every single second of my mind was filled with these thoughts. Even taking a breath felt like a luxury."

His tone was not loud, and his speech was not fast, but every word was like a heavy stone thrown into Wumei's heart.

"Later, I had the opportunity to go to Russia to try my luck. I risked my life to earn some foreign exchange and buy some equipment and technology that China urgently needed."

"Later, when we got into cars and chips... every step was like walking a tightrope over a cliff. One wrong decision could have led to utter ruin, and the livelihoods of thousands or tens of thousands of people who worked with me would have been gone, and all the hard-earned assets that Junken City had built up would have been lost."

A subtle heaviness crept into Ye Yuze's voice:

"Reporter Wu, tell me, on days like these, under the weight of burdens that could crush you at any moment, how much thought and energy does a person have left to ponder romance and manage so-called 'three wives and four concubines'?"

He looked directly at Wu Mei, his gaze as open and honest as the vast sky over the Gobi Desert:
"My romantic history is certainly not perfect, it can even be described as...a complete mess."

Some are young and impetuous, lacking a sense of responsibility; some are caught in unforeseen circumstances, unable to control their own lives. Some, however, offer each other solace and support during times of loneliness and despair.

“I am not a saint; I have my weaknesses and mistakes. But,”

His tone suddenly became more forceful, carrying a rock-solid firmness: "But I, Ye Yuze, have never used power or money to coerce, trade, or toy with any woman's feelings!"

"Whether they stay with me or leave me is their own choice. The only thing I can do is to provide them and their children with a solid material guarantee when they need it, so that they don't have to worry about making a living."

"As for relationships, whatever the outcome, I've tried my best to have a clear conscience. As for titles... ha,"

A faint, bitter smile, tinged with sarcasm, appeared at the corner of his mouth. "In this position, 'status' is sometimes the most hurtful shackle."

He paused, his gaze returning to the distance, his voice lowering, carrying an almost weary sincerity:

"I know what people outside are saying about me. Morally corrupt? Hypocritical? Whatever. I can't control what everyone says."

"All I know is that I have a clear conscience. In my life, I, Ye Yuze, have never let down this land that gave me birth and raised me, nor have I let down the brothers and sisters who followed me and trusted me!"

“I have not let down any of the children who called me ‘Dad’! The military reclamation city is here, the soldiers’ cars are running on the road, and the chips of the military reclamation machinery and electronics are operating all over the world… This is my answer sheet.”

"As for my private life, whether it's good or bad, let future generations gossip about it."

After the words were spoken, silence fell over the awning. Only the wind continued to howl outside.

Ume froze completely.

She had imagined countless scenarios of confrontation and rehearsed various sharp questions.

She was prepared to use grand terms like "morality," "responsibility," and "social impact" to interrogate the other party. However, Ye Yuze did not defend himself, did not shirk responsibility, and did not even show anger.

He simply used the most plain language to dissect that heavy and iron-like period, revealing a true soul struggling to move forward in the cracks between survival and development, responsibility and pressure.

The accusations of "manipulating women" and "chaotic private life" suddenly seem so light, so...inhuman, and even carry a kind of condescending cruelty in the face of the almost suffocating pressure of survival and the burden of development he described.

All the sharp questions she had prepared were now stuck in her throat, and she couldn't utter a single word.

The notebook lay open on the table, its brand-new page still blank. The red light on the voice recorder flashed faithfully, recording this heavy silence.

How about some follow-up subscriptions? Qidian changed the rules, sigh...