Great Power Reclamation

The years at the Moscow Frunze Military Academy, like the Siberian cold current, ruthlessly and rapidly shaped Ye Fei's rough edges, while also tempering his core.

His life was strictly divided into blocks: physical training in the morning, theoretical courses in the morning, tactical drills and equipment operation in the afternoon, and self-study and strategic simulations in the evening.

He was like a greedy sponge, absorbing all the knowledge and skills he could access.

His Russian became increasingly fluent, even taking on a touch of the accent of Moscow's elite.

His answers to military theory questions were often used as models by instructors. His tactical command in simulated combat scenarios was full of ingenious moves, inheriting the grandeur of Soviet-style deep battle operations while incorporating the unpredictability and flexibility of Eastern wisdom.

Sergei, whom he had once slammed onto the mat, became one of his most loyal followers.

The burly Cossack patted Ye Fei on the shoulder and said in a loud voice, "Ye Fei! I'm following you from now on! Your brain is much more useful than my muscular body!"

Ye Fei simply smiled faintly. He knew that here, respect was earned through absolute strength, whether in the fighting arena, the shooting range, or the tactical research room.

He began to consciously build his own circle. This circle included practical experts like Sergei, meticulous thinkers from a General Staff family, and Andrei, who was extremely obsessed with electronic warfare.

They often gather during their limited weekend rest time to discuss the latest military technologies and analyze international hot topics, especially the situation in neighboring countries.

Ye Fei rarely mentioned his family relationships, but his profound insights into the local situation often surprised his companions.

He would occasionally receive a phone call from his mother, Angela, or have a brief meeting with her.

Angela was no longer the mother who only knew how to emotionally manipulate people; she became a calm observer and supporter, providing him with information about Moscow's upper-class social circles and the necessary connections to resources.

Ye Yuze rarely calls, but each time he does, his few words are enough to make Ye Fei ponder for a long time.

His father never gave him specific instructions, but only asked, "Are you getting used to it?" "Do you have any thoughts?" "If you need anything, ask your mother or Aunt Dasha."

"Aunt Dasha..."

Ye Fei thought of the woman who had treated him like a mother when he was a child.

His mother was always very busy because of her political career, so he was fostered by Aunt Dasha and grew up with Yang Xue.

He missed Yang Xue even more; the two of them had hardly been apart for a single day, and she was a girl whose eyes shone like stars.

The scene of parting instantly flashed through Yang Xue's mind. She fought back tears but smiled and said to him:
“Go, Ye Fei. The stars in Moscow are definitely not as bright as those in the military reclamation city, but when you go there, they will shine.”

At that moment, a barely perceptible flutter of emotion stirred within him, but it was quickly overwhelmed by his longing for the new journey ahead. The intense and fulfilling life at military academy left him with almost no time to savor the sorrow of parting.

However, he had no idea what kind of turmoil his departure would cause in that girl's heart.

The sky over the military reclamation city was still azure, and the poplar trees stood straight. But for Yang Xue, the city seemed to have lost all its color and sound overnight.

Ye Fei's departure took away the most familiar and relied-upon part of her life.

They were born together, cried for milk together, even grew up drinking Yang Xue's mother's milk together, and shared all their joys...

Those memories are so vivid, yet they only serve to highlight the emptiness before me.

She became taciturn. After school, she would often run alone to the hillside outside the city, look in the direction of the train tracks, and sit there for a long time.

Yu'e saw this and was anxious, but didn't know how to comfort her.

She contacted Yang Geyong, but the man seemed to be forever on the road, completely indifferent to these matters. When the call connected, it was only a few hurried words:

"What's wrong, little girl? Missing me? It's nothing, we'll go back together after this busy period!"

The oblivious Yang Geyong did not immediately notice his daughter's delicate and profound thoughts.

One day, while tidying up Yang Xue's room, Yu'e found her diary lying open on the table, filled with the words "Moscow," "Frunze," and the repeatedly scribbled words "Ye Fei," as well as tear stains.

Yu'e sighed and finally dialed Yang Geyong's number again. This time, her tone was unusually serious:

"Yang Geyong, your daughter is lovesick! If you don't take care of her, she won't be your little darling anymore!"

Yang Geyong, who was on the other end of the phone, seemed to be in a noisy place. He paused for a moment upon hearing this, then his voice turned somber:

"What? Who bullied my daughter?"

“It wasn’t anyone who bullied her! It was Ye Fei! Ye Fei went to Moscow, and her soul went with him! This child is very stubborn; I’m afraid she’ll get sick from holding it in!”

Yang Geyong fell silent. He thought of Ye Yuze's words, of Angela, and of his home in Moscow, of the woman named Dasha. Yang Xue was her own daughter.

After a long pause, he said gruffly, "Alright, I understand. I'll make the arrangements."

Yang Geyong called Yang Xue directly: "Girl, are you tired of staying in the military reclamation city?"

Holding the phone, Yang Xue felt a lump in her throat, but she forced back tears and said, "Dad, I want to go out for a walk."

"Where do you want to go? Beijing? Shanghai? Dad will arrange it for you!"

“...Moscow.” Yang Xue’s voice was soft, but carried an undeniable firmness.

There was another silence on the other end of the phone, then Yang Geyong's voice came through, as if he had made up his mind:

"Okay! Let's go to Moscow! Go see your mom, Dasha! She must miss you terribly! Dad also needs someone to keep an eye on things here, so go and keep an eye on things for him!"

Her father's understanding and support were like a ray of light illuminating Yang Xue's gloomy mood. She almost immediately cheered up and began packing her luggage at lightning speed.

Looking at Yang Xue's radiant face, Yu'e felt a mix of emotions, both gratified and reluctant to part with her, which ultimately turned into a sigh and a silent act of help.

She knew that the girl had grown up and had her own path to walk, just as an eagle would eventually fly to a wider sky.

The procedures were completed remarkably quickly. With just one phone call from Yang Geyong, everything in Moscow was arranged perfectly.

A few days later, Yang Xue boarded a flight to Moscow.

As the plane broke through the clouds and the vast, snow-covered plains of Eastern Europe gradually came into view below, her heart pounded. Ye Feige was there, along with her biological mother.

Moscow Sheremetyevo International Airport. Dasha was waiting at the arrival gate early in the morning.

She wore an expensive mink coat and had exquisite makeup, but she couldn't hide the signs of aging and the anxiety and expectation in her eyes.

When she saw the girl walking out, dragging a suitcase, wearing a common style of down jacket, with both Yang Geyong's heroic spirit and Zheng Qian's beauty in her eyes, tears welled up instantly.

"Snow! My child!"

Dasha called out in heavily accented Chinese, quickly stepped forward, and hugged Yang Xue tightly.

Yang Xue burst into tears instantly. This embrace was both strange and familiar, filled with a rich scent of perfume, yet also exuding a natural warmth.

“Mom…” she called out, her voice choked with emotion. How could she not have feelings for the mother who gave birth to her and raised her from childhood?

Dasha cupped Yang Xue's face in her hands, examining it closely, her eyes filled with tears and a smile:

"So alike, just like your father when he was young! Good boy, it's good that you're here, it's good that you're here!"

Dasha drove Yang Xue to the city center herself. Along the way, she excitedly introduced the sights of Moscow and inquired about Yang Geyong and Yu'e, speaking quickly and urgently, as if trying to make up for all the communication that had been missing over the years.

However, the car did not head towards the luxury apartment buildings in downtown Moscow, but gradually veered off the main road and headed towards the suburbs.

Finally, deep in a birch forest, a traditional Russian wooden house (Izba) came into view.

The wooden house looked quite old, but it was well-maintained, with wisps of smoke rising from the chimney. A small yard was surrounded by a wooden fence, and there was even a small swing piled high with snow in the yard.

"We're home, child."

Dasha parked the car, her tone becoming gentle and calm.

Yang Xue was somewhat surprised. She knew her mother was very wealthy, managing a huge oil business, but she never expected her to live in this quaint and even somewhat remote place. Yet, this place held all her childhood memories with Ye Fei.

Stepping into the log cabin, the interior is warm and cozy. There are thick wool carpets, a traditional Russian fireplace (pechka) with a roaring fire, and exquisite tapestries and several photographs hanging on the walls.

Yang Xue immediately spotted the largest photo in the very center:

In the photo, the young Dasha is beautiful and charming, nestled beside the equally young and carefree Yang Geyong, with the vast oil field and drilling rigs in the background. The photo has yellowed with age, yet it is filled with an infectious happiness.

“This place,” Dasha stroked the photo frame, her gaze distant, “is the original home of your father and me. Back then, there was nothing but this forest, this old house, and oil gushing out day and night… Although it was tough, those were my happiest days.”

She turned around, looked at Yang Xue, and her smile held a hint of relief and nonchalance:

"Later, I had more and more money, and my house got bigger and bigger, from high-end apartments in the city center to villas by the Black Sea... but I still like this place the most."

“This is where I spent the happiest time of my life. Your father and your Uncle Ye, whenever they came to Moscow, they would stay here.”

Dasha did not complain about Yang Geyong's long-term absence, nor did she mention her loneliness.

She simply narrated calmly, as if she were talking about the most natural thing in the world.

She took Yang Xue's hand and led her to visit each room, telling her the stories behind each old object.

"This plush toy was the first toy your dad bought for you. That bearskin mat was the result of your dad and Uncle Ye's first hunting trip with you."

"Do you remember that little bear? It was your and Ye Fei's childhood playmate, the one we caught while hunting."

Yang Xue nodded vigorously. How could she forget? That was also her happy childhood.

But she saw a mother who was completely different from what she had imagined. She was not the pampered, resentful rich woman.

Rather, she is a resilient and affectionate woman who has sealed away her deep love and all her youthful memories in this wooden house. The figures of her father, Yang Geyong, and herself become incredibly concrete and vivid in this space.

“Your father is a man like an eagle. He has businesses and brothers everywhere, from military reclamation cities to northern Xinjiang to Africa. He can’t stay here.”

Dasha brewed a rich, fragrant milk tea, her tone calm, "I don't blame him. He gave me love, he gave me the most beautiful memories, and he gave me you—"

“Although you have been in the United States and military settlements all these years, I know that he did it for your own good. Now that you have finally come, this is my greatest happiness.”

She handed the milk tea to Yang Xue, her eyes filled with loving yet firm eyes:
"This is your home. Do whatever you want. If you want to see Ye Fei, I'll arrange a car for you."

"If you want to learn about company matters, I'll teach you. If you don't want to, you can do what you like. Everything Mom has will be yours in the future."

Yang Xue's tears fell again, this time from gratitude and a sense of peace that came from finding a true sense of belonging. She threw herself into Dasha's arms: "Thank you, Mom."

Yang Xue settled down in the wooden cabin in Dasha. She began to slowly adapt to life in Moscow.

Dasha didn't rush her into the complex oil business; instead, she first introduced her to the environment, let her taste the local cuisine, and experience Russian culture.

Furthermore, they arranged for her to attend one of the best private schools in Moscow, since Yang Xue was only sixteen years old and had not yet graduated from high school, so she needed to continue her studies.

Yang Xue listened to her mother in all these matters and did not express her own opinions, because she believed that with her mother around, everything would be the best.

Of course, Yang Xue's heart was still set on Ye Fei.

One weekend, arranged by Dasha, a low-profile but sturdy off-road vehicle took Yang Xue to a pre-arranged location near the Frunze Military Academy.

Military academies are strictly managed, outsiders are not allowed to enter, and students' outings are also severely restricted.

When Ye Fei, dressed in a crisp military academy cadet coat and trudging through the thick snow, appeared at the agreed-upon coffee shop, he could hardly believe his eyes.

Yang Xue stood under the streetlight, wearing a red down jacket and a scarf that covered most of her face, revealing only a pair of bright eyes that seemed to have matured a bit more.

The cold Moscow wind reddened the tip of her nose, and she breathed out white puffs of air, smiling and waving at him.

"Brother Ye Fei!"

At that moment, Ye Fei felt as if the cold, dry air of Moscow had become moist and warm. He walked quickly over and looked at her in surprise:
"Yang Xue? What are you doing here?"

I've come to find you!

Yang Xue smiled, her eyes crinkling, "I'm here to keep Dasha's mom company too. From now on, I'll be in Moscow too!"

A complex mix of emotions welled up in Ye Fei's heart: surprise, emotion, and an indescribable sense of security.

Meeting an old friend in a foreign land, especially her childhood sweetheart, was unbearable. Looking at the girl before him, who seemed to have grown up overnight, a thousand words choked in his chest, but in the end, they all boiled down to one sentence:
"It's cold outside, come inside quickly."

The café was filled with the warm aroma of coffee. Ye Fei listened as Yang Xue recounted how she made up her mind to come, how warmly Dasha's mother welcomed her, and the wooden house full of stories.

He also briefly shared the intense yet fulfilling nature of military academy life, including its challenges and achievements.

The two seemed to have an endless supply of topics, from interesting stories about the military reclamation town to their observations in Moscow.

Although they had been apart for less than a year, it felt like an eternity. They had both changed and grown, but the tacit understanding and affection they had shared since childhood had quickly warmed up and grown even stronger in the cold night in a foreign land.

When they parted, Ye Fei escorted Yang Xue to her car. Looking at her, he said earnestly:

“Stay here and be safe. If anything happens, be sure to tell me, or contact Dasha’s mother. Frunze is very strict, so I can’t go out often, but…”

“I know,” Yang Xue interrupted him, her eyes clear and firm. “Brother Ye Fei, you focus on your work. Don’t worry about me. I’m fine now, really. Being close to you and knowing where you are makes me feel at ease.”

The car slowly drove away. Ye Fei stood in the snow, gazing for a long time at the direction where the taillights disappeared. The corner of his heart, which had been tense due to high-intensity training and fierce competition, quietly softened and became full of strength.

He knew that in this cold, vast city, he was no longer alone. (End of Chapter)