Great Power Reclamation

Chapter 2992 Humanity and Emotion
The military reclamation town under the night sky has shed its daytime hustle and bustle. Yang Wei pushed open the door to his home. Only a warm yellow wall lamp remained in the living room, its soft light unable to penetrate certain corners of his heart.

The food on the table, made by Ye Qianqian, was still warm.

He knew that she had a reception tonight, and Wang Yifan from "Northern Xinjiang Mobile Phones" was on the guest list.

This realization, like a tiny ice spike, silently pierced my heart; not fatal, but carrying a lingering and distinct pain.

He had little appetite and went straight to the study. When he passed the master bedroom, the door was tightly closed.

A faint light shone through the crack in the door to the children's room next door; the son was probably still looking at a picture book. This home was so quiet you could hear your own heartbeat, and so quiet you could hear the silent cracks spreading.

He and Ye Qianqian were childhood sweethearts; they loved each other, and almost... hated each other.

That thorn was planted in the dead of night, in an equally quiet night.

When he returned from his social engagements, he pushed open the half-closed door to his home. In the entryway, besides a pair of familiar Ye Qianqian high heels, there was also a pair of unfamiliar, gleaming men's leather shoes.

The air was filled with an unfamiliar scent of cologne and a strong smell of alcohol, which didn't belong in this house.

He followed the sound into the living room and saw Ye Qianqian slumped on the sofa, completely drunk, and Wang Yifan bending down to try to help her up.

That man, Wang Yifan of Beijiang Mobile, was young and handsome. His gaze toward Ye Qianqian was filled with undisguised admiration, and even more...

At that moment, Yang Wei felt all the blood rush to his head, and his fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles turned white.

Nothing happened? Wang Yifan hurriedly explained before he rushed over that Ye Qianqian, after sobering up, cried and assured him that she had only lost control due to drunkenness.

The feeling of his most private and sacred place, "home," being invaded was like poison seeping into all his trust.

Those unfamiliar leather shoes were like a brand, seared onto his heart, never to be removed.

Later, he met Wang Xiaomeng. During the darkest and most comforting period after his divorce, this woman, as resilient and warm as the kapok flower in the Gobi Desert, entered his life.

She gave him understanding and quiet love, without demanding or forcing him.

In the end, however, he still chose to come back. For the carefree smiles on his child's face, for the inextricable bond between the two families, and also for... the love and responsibility he felt for Ye Qianqian deep in his heart, a love that had never truly died out and was mixed with too many complex emotions.

Ye Qianqian knew Wang Xiaomeng. She didn't make a scene; she simply looked at him calmly one night, her eyes filled with weariness, understanding, and a hint of the same... guilt.

“I understand,” she said. “Let’s… leave it at that.”

"Just like that" means they are still family, their child's strongest support, and their most compatible partners in their careers.

They can eat at the same table, attend parent-teacher meetings together, and maintain a respectable and harmonious relationship in front of outsiders.

But "not remarrying" is their final tacit understanding, a breathing space left for each other, a safe distance where they no longer need to be 100% transparent or question whether the other still harbors feelings for someone else.

He knew that Ye Qianqian's job was destined to involve dealing with Wang Yifan.

Every time he knew they were in the same meeting room, every time he saw them smiling side by side in the news, that thorn would twitch in his heart.

Similarly, when he occasionally heard that Wang Xiaomeng was still single and rising through the ranks in the railway system, he could also sense the subtle ripples beneath Ye Qianqian's silence.

They were like two heavily damaged ships that, after being barely repaired, could still sail side by side and withstand the storms.

However, the keel of the ship's cabin was covered with cracks that could not be completely repaired.

They could feel each other swaying, but they could no longer merge into one seamlessly as they had at the beginning.

Yang Wei lit a cigarette, walked to the window, and looked out at the myriad lights of the city.

The father's "anti-aging" plan was like a bright light, temporarily illuminating and dispelling the gloom in his life.

He poured all his energy, all his restless emotions, all his complex love for Ye Qianqian, and all his deep guilt towards Wang Xiaomeng into this crazy and great cause.

Running through sandstorms, toiling in experimental fields, and strategizing at the negotiating table... the extreme physical exhaustion actually dulled the subtle pain in my heart.

Perhaps this is their destiny. They cannot possess it completely, nor can they completely relinquish it.

We can only carry each other's thorns, supporting and tormenting each other on a road of no return.

He stubbed out his cigarette, turned around, and his gaze fell on the photo of his son smiling brightly on the table.

At least, they preserved the outward appearance of their home and protected their child's world. As for the unspeakable storms in their hearts, let them remain in the winter known only to themselves.

In late autumn in northern Xinjiang, the sky is high and clear. Inside a simple yet solemn conference room at the headquarters of the Xinjiang Production and Construction Corps, a strategic cooperation meeting on the construction of "Digital Northern Xinjiang" is underway.

Ye Qianqian sat in the main seat, dressed in a well-tailored dark suit, her hair neatly tied up, her expression focused and calm. Opposite her sat Wang Yifan.

Several years have honed this man from Guangdong into a more composed and mature individual.

He still retained the lean and shrewdness characteristic of southern merchants, but his brows now showed more composure and poise from managing a vast business empire.

"Beijiang" mobile phones are no longer a brand confined to a small corner of the market, but a technology giant that has swept the Southeast Asian market. As the leader, he is naturally a highly sought-after figure in the domestic business world.

He clearly remembered that out-of-control night a few years ago, and the pity and excitement he felt for Ye Qianqian when she was drunk and showed vulnerability.

I also remember Yang Wei's murderous look when he rushed in, and Ye Qianqian's distant yet apologetic firmness after she regained consciousness.

That incident, like a small thorn, pierced his heart. It wasn't guilt towards Yang Wei—in the cutthroat world of business, he had his ruthless side—

Instead, he felt guilty for causing trouble and inconvenience to Ye Qianqian.

He admired this woman not only for her looks and status, but also for the wisdom, decisiveness, and resilience she displayed in handling political affairs and in maintaining balance in complex relationships.

He knew that she and Yang Wei had not remarried, and he also knew about the existence of that woman named Wang Xiaomeng.

This made his affection, which might have originally been tinged with a predatory intent, more complex and profound, a kind of distant appreciation and...heartache.

"Mr. Wang, regarding the plan to deploy an intelligent customs clearance system at border ports, is there any specific difficulty that your company's technical team needs the Xinjiang Production and Construction Corps to coordinate?"

Ye Qianqian spoke, her voice clear and steady, pulling Wang Yifan back from his brief daze.

Wang Yifan composed himself, leaned forward slightly, and displayed the focus expected of an excellent collaborator.

He answered the questions clearly and logically in Mandarin with a slight Cantonese accent, making specific and practical demands and providing solutions that fully considered the actual situation of the Xinjiang Production and Construction Corps.

His gaze mostly fell on the tablet in his hand or the presentation screen behind Ye Qianqian. When he occasionally made eye contact with her, it was always open and professional, never overstepping his bounds.

But he keenly noticed a hint of weariness in her eyes and saw her occasionally unconsciously twirling her ring finger (where her wedding ring was no longer).

The meeting concluded in an efficient and pragmatic atmosphere. When the two shook hands to say goodbye, Wang Yifan's hand was warm and dry, with just the right amount of pressure, and they parted after a brief touch.

"Mr. Ye, thank you for your hard work. My team will follow up and implement the specific details." He said sincerely.

"Mr. Wang, you're too kind. It's a pleasure doing business with you," Ye Qianqian replied with a smile, her tone polite and official.

As everyone left the meeting room, Wang Yifan deliberately slowed his pace, tidying up documents that didn't require any work. When Ye Qianqian was the last to emerge, he casually took a step closer and, in a voice only the two of them could hear, said very quickly:
"I had someone bring some of that calming tea I mentioned last time, and I've left it with Secretary Li. No matter how busy you are with work, please... take care."

After he finished speaking, without waiting for Ye Qianqian's response, he turned around naturally, as if a casual conversation between ordinary friends had ended, and left with his assistant team. His steps were steady, and he didn't look back.

Ye Qianqian stood there, stunned for a few seconds.

Fragments of that night flashed uncontrollably through her mind, reeking of alcohol, chaos, and the embarrassment that followed. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to banish the images.

She understood Wang Yifan's feelings. This shrewd and successful man was expressing his concern in an extremely discreet and almost imperceptible way.

He didn't pester her or make things difficult for her; he simply offered just the right amount of warmth, addressing the detail that she might be suffering from insomnia due to her demanding work schedule.

This prevented her from feeling any ill will; in fact, a faint, cherished ripple spread through her heart.

But this ripple was quickly suppressed by a heavier reality—

Her identity, her family (even if nominally), the tangled mess between her and Yang Wei, and the potential impact of the enormous commercial interests represented by Wang Yifan himself.

She took a deep breath, her face regaining its usual composure, and nodded slightly to her secretary, Li Gang, who was waiting beside her.

“Let’s go back to the office.”

She knew that she and Wang Yifan were like the cedar trees of the northern frontier and the kapok trees of the southern country.

They can gaze at each other from afar, even admire each other's posture, but the land beneath their feet, and the thousands of mountains and rivers between them, are insurmountable rules and the past.

That unspoken, and never-to-be-spoken feeling can only be sealed in each other's hearts, like a seed buried deep in the Gobi Desert, perhaps never to sprout.

And this, perhaps, is the best, and only, destination for some relationships in the adult world.

Yang Geyong is back. Not from a testing ground of the "anti-aging" project, but from a low-key and expensive sanatorium in Europe.

The erosion of time and his global travels have left deeper marks on him, but his eyes are still like those of an eagle in the Gobi Desert, so sharp that people dare not look directly at them.

When he returned to the northern frontier, he did not see the happy picture of his eldest son's harmonious family and successful career, but rather the polite distance between Yang Wei and Ye Qianqian, and the silent undercurrent in the air about Wang Yifan and Wang Xiaomeng.

Yang Wei's dedication to "reversing aging" is less about pursuing ideals and more about escaping reality, a fact that cannot be hidden from the seasoned veteran Yang Geyong.

An unnamed anger burned in the old man's chest. How could he, Yang Geyong's son, tolerate such humiliation?
He was able to build this business from scratch with Ye Yuze back then, and now he can use his own methods to clear away these "obstacles" for his son.

He fundamentally believes in the most primal law of the jungle, and his way of solving problems is direct and brutal.

Just like a few years ago, when he discovered his eldest son-in-law was having an affair, he brought a group of people to block the door, broke one of the man's legs, threw down a wad of cash, and said...

"Either take the money and get out, or I'll make you disappear from northern Xinjiang," the problem was "solved" cleanly and efficiently.

Now, he believes it's Yang Wei's turn. His first target is Wang Xiaomeng.

In his view, this woman who refused to marry and silently waited for her son was the biggest obstacle preventing his family from truly reconciling.

One evening, Wang Xiaomeng had just finished a day of line inspection and dragged his tired body out of the North Xinjiang Railway Bureau compound.

As she was about to get her car, a black SUV with a special license plate silently slid up beside her and blocked her way.

The car window rolled down, revealing Yang Geyong's weathered and imposing face.

"Director Wang? Shall we get in the car and have a chat?"

His voice wasn't loud, but it carried an undeniable sense of authority.

Wang Xiaomeng's heart tightened. She hadn't met Yang Geyong many times, but she had long heard of the old man's iron-fisted methods and his reputation for protecting his children. She composed herself, opened the car door, and sat in the back seat.

The car was spacious, but the atmosphere was oppressive. Yang Geyong didn't turn around; he looked straight ahead and got straight to the point:
“Director Wang is a smart man, so I won’t beat around the bush. You know about Yang Wei and Qianqian’s situation. They’re in this situation now, for the sake of the child and for all other reasons, it’s impossible for them to separate.”

"You're a good girl, talented and promising. Why waste your youth on someone who can't give you a future?"

Wang Xiaomeng pursed her lips, her fingers curling slightly, but she didn't speak.

Yang Geyong picked up a thick file bag from the passenger seat and casually tossed it onto the back seat.

"Here's two million in cash and the keys to an apartment in a southern coastal city. Leave the northern frontier, find a good man, and start a new life. This is good for you, for Yang Wei, and for everyone."

His tone was calm, as if he were discussing a routine transaction. This was the most "civilized" solution he could think of.

Wang Xiaomeng looked at the file folder but didn't touch it. She looked up through the rearview mirror and met Yang Geyong's hawk-like eyes. Her voice wasn't loud, but it was exceptionally clear and firm:

"Mr. Yang, thank you for your 'kindness'. Aunt Zhao Ling'er also contacted me. But I, Wang Xiaomeng, am not short of money or a house. My relationship with Yang Wei is our own business."

“I stay here because I love my job and I love the railway. I will not leave the place where I am rooted for anyone or anything, and I will not trade my feelings.”

Yang Geyong's brows furrowed sharply, clearly not expecting this seemingly quiet woman to be so assertive. He turned around, his gaze sharp as a knife across Wang Xiaomeng's face:

"Girl, don't be so stubborn! In the northern border region, no one has ever dared to speak to me, Yang Geyong, like that! Do you think your position at the railway department is secure?"

Wang Xiaomeng met his gaze without flinching, a faint, melancholic sneer even playing on her lips:
"Mr. Yang, are you planning to break my legs and then throw a sum of money at me, just like you did to your eldest son-in-law back then?"

Yang Geyong's pupils contracted; the past had been touched upon, and a surge of anger instantly rose within him. The air inside the car seemed to freeze.

Just then, Wang Xiaomeng's phone rang. She glanced at it; it was Yang Wei calling. She didn't answer, hung up immediately, then opened the car door. Before getting out, she said one last thing:
"General Yang, I understand that you mean well for Yang Wei. But please, do it in a way that he can accept. If you drive me away, he won't be able to get over that hurdle in his heart. Besides, the real problem has never been just with me."

She glanced meaningfully in the direction of the corps headquarters, then closed the car door, straightened her back, walked to her own car, started the engine, and drove away. Throughout the entire process, she showed no sign of panic.

Yang Geyong watched as the ordinary family car merged into the traffic, his face turning ashen.

He discovered for the first time that some "problems" cannot be solved with money and threats.

This Wang Xiaomeng is like a cornerstone under the Northern Xinjiang Railway; seemingly ordinary, yet possessing unimaginable resilience.

Meanwhile, Yang Wei quickly learned from other sources that his father had gone to see Wang Xiaomeng. He practically stormed into his father's temporary residence in the provincial capital and, for the first time, lost his temper with him:
"Dad! What are you doing! My affairs are none of your business! You're going to find Xiaomeng? What right do you have to go to her?! Do you know that doing this will only make me a worse person and make me feel even more sorry for her!"

Looking at his son's face contorted with anger and pain, Yang Geyong felt a sense of powerlessness for the first time when facing his son.

He discovered that his long-standing "aesthetics of violence" was not only ineffective in the face of his son's complex emotional predicament, but might even backfire.

Ye Qianqian soon learned of this as well. She didn't say anything, but after a family dinner, she seemingly casually said to Yang Geyong:
“Dad, I know you mean well. But some knots need time to untie, or... they can never be untied. Forcing them will only tighten the knot and hurt everyone.”

Looking at the scene under the lamplight, where his son, daughter-in-law, and granddaughter seemed harmonious yet always separated by a layer, Yang Geyong sighed heavily.

This eagle, accustomed to soaring through the sky and tearing apart its prey, felt a sense of bewilderment and frustration for the first time when faced with the thorns of family emotions, with nowhere to put its claws.

He discovered that the most difficult thing to conquer in the world is not the wilderness, not the market, and not nature, but the human heart.

Especially those you deeply love, yet who already possess independent will and complex emotions—your closest relatives. This time, his "old trick" completely failed.