Great Power Reclamation

Chapter 3007 Siheyuan

In Beijing in autumn, the sky is high and the clouds are light. Sunlight filters through the sparse locust tree leaves, casting dappled shadows in the courtyard with its blue brick floor.

Ye Yuze walked slowly into the familiar courtyard with his hands behind his back.

This is where he started his business; every brick and every tile seems to be imbued with the atmosphere of the past.

Because the second son, Ye Mao, often sent people to take care of the yard, it was clean and tidy, with lush flowers and plants, showing no signs of decay.

His gaze swept across the bright and clean main room, finally settling on the thousand-work bed that had witnessed countless beautiful moments and tenderness, and his eyes momentarily dazed.

Yu'e, and those beauties who bloomed like flowers in his life and then faded away... The past is like smoke, but it has not dissipated; it has simply settled in the tranquility of this small courtyard.

Although he is now nominally retired, who doesn't know that he is still the supreme ruler of that vast business empire, the "Warrior Group"?

Keep a low profile? At his position, it's hard to keep a low profile.

What's more, there's Yang Geyong, that guy who always wants to make a big fuss wherever he goes, as well as Ye Mao, who holds a high position, Wang Honghua, who sits firmly in the center, and his younger brother Ye Yufan, who has a transcendent status...

The Ye family, like a great tree, has long been deeply rooted and flourishing, providing shade to all directions.

"Tsk, this dilapidated courtyard, it's been so many years since I've been here, and it's still the same!" A loud voice broke the tranquility of the courtyard, carrying a hint of deliberate "disdain".

Ye Yuze didn't need to turn around to know who it was. No one but Yang Geyong could so brazenly barge into his private courtyard.

Yang Geyong sported a head of meticulously combed, shiny white hair (probably with half a bottle of hairspray), wore an extremely flamboyant bright purple silk Tang suit, and had a heavy string of amber prayer beads around his neck, the authenticity of which was unknown.

He strode in with an air of indifference, followed by two Ye family staff members who looked helpless and had clearly tried to stop him but failed.

"Hey Lao Ye, you're hiding here retiring without even calling me? That's not very nice of you!" Yang Geyong slapped Ye Yuze's shoulder hard with his large, fan-like hand, the force of which was no less than before.

Ye Yuze winced as he was slapped, and irritably brushed his hand away:
"You old codger, what are you doing here in my little temple instead of being a casino tycoon in Las Vegas? And what are you doing dressed like that... are you going to perform in a play or something?"

"What do you know? This is called fashion!" Yang Geyong stroked his non-existent beard smugly, glanced around, and a barely perceptible hint of nostalgia flashed in his eyes:
"Hey, this courtyard, how many big drinking sessions did we two brothers have here back in the day! That bed..." He winked mischievously at the thousand-work bed, "Hehe, quite a few stories, aren't there?"

Ye Yuze blushed and glared at him: "You can't expect anything good to come out of a dog's mouth!"

Yang Geyong didn't care at all and wandered around the yard by himself, sometimes touching the old fish tank with koi, and sometimes touching the lush rose bush in the corner.

“Hey, Lao Ye, I remember there used to be a jar of good wine buried in this corner? It was ‘Daughter Red’ that we buried the year our daughter was born!” Yang Geyong suddenly remembered something, his eyes lighting up.

Ye Yuze paused for a moment, trying hard to recall, and thought... there was such a thing? But that was so many years ago.

Before Ye Yuze could answer, Yang Geyong had already rolled up his sleeves, revealing his hairy arms, and was directing the men following him:
"Go get two shovels! Let's dig it up and see what it tastes like now!"

The staff exchanged glances, then looked at Ye Yuze. Ye Yuze wanted to stop him, but seeing Yang Geyong's enthusiastic and youthful demeanor, a mischievous thought popped into his head. He nodded slightly to the staff.

Soon, shovels were found. The two old men, whose combined age was over a hundred, actually started digging in the corner of the wall.

Yang Geyong was strong, and he dug so hard that dust flew everywhere. His expensive bright purple Tang suit was soon covered with mud.

"Hey! Found it!" Yang Geyong's shovel hit something hard with a clang after digging less than a foot deep. He excitedly threw down the shovel and dug with his hands. Sure enough, it was a small, well-sealed wine jar.

The two carefully carried out the wine jar and brushed off the dirt. The clay seal was intact, and the year and the words "Joy of the Bride's Birthday" were still faintly engraved on it (Note: They may have made a mistake at the time, thinking it meant a son, but a daughter was born later? Or perhaps Yang Geyong, that rough fellow, simply misremembered the words).

"Come on, open it!" Yang Geyong couldn't wait.

Upon opening the mud seal, a rich aroma of wine mixed with the scent of earth wafts out. It's not unpleasant; rather, it has a mellow, aged quality.

Yang Geyong found two bowls and poured the wine into them without saying a word. The wine was amber in color and viscous, clinging to the sides of the bowl.

"For our friendship, for this dilapidated courtyard, let's do it!" Yang Geyong raised his bowl, his spirit soaring.

Ye Yuze looked at him, smiled, and raised his bowl to clink with his. The spicy yet mellow liquor went down his throat, as if swallowing decades of life along with it.

After a few bowls of "Daughter's Red" liquor, the two old men were a bit tipsy. They sat on the stone bench in the courtyard and started boasting about all sorts of things.

Yang Geyong began to boast about how powerful he was in Europe and America, how many companies he had acquired, and how many foreigners he had scared away.

Ye Yuze listened with a smile, occasionally exposing him: "Come on, last time in London, who was it that got completely fooled by a Gypsy girl and almost pawned his pocket watch?"

Yang Geyong blushed, his neck stiffening: "That's because I felt sorry for her! I deliberately let her deceive me! Do you understand? That's called having a broad perspective!"

As they were chatting and laughing, Ye Yuze's phone, which was on the stone table, rang. It was a video call from Ye Mao. Ye Yuze answered it without hesitation.

"Dad, are you at the courtyard house? I'm here..."

Ye Mao's calm voice came through, but before he could finish speaking, Yang Geyong's bright red face was squeezed into the camera's view.

“Nephew! It’s me! Your Uncle Yang!” Yang Geyong shouted into the camera. “He’s reminiscing about the past with your dad! Don’t worry, your dad’s doing well, I’m here with him!”

Ye Mao was clearly taken aback for a moment, then smiled helplessly:
"Uncle Yang, you're here too. Dad, Uncle Yang, please drink less and take care of yourselves."

After hanging up the phone, Yang Geyong was still feeling unsatisfied. Looking at the several plump BJ ducks (brought in by Ye Mao to add some life to the yard) leisurely strolling around, another idea popped into his head:
"Old Ye, I remember your roast duck skills used to be superb! It's been so many years since I've had it, how about showing off your skills today?"

Ye Yuze, feeling the effects of the alcohol, was also intrigued: "Alright! Let me show you, old man, what it means to still be as sharp as ever!"

Without further ado, Ye Yuze directed people to prepare fruit trees and seasonings.

Yang Geyong volunteered to catch the ducks, but ended up chasing several ducks around the yard, causing a chaotic scene with them squawking and chickens flying everywhere. His traditional Chinese clothing was also in a terrible state. In the end, the staff had to help him catch the fattest one.

Ye Yuze personally handled the duck, blowing air into it, scalding the skin, and applying sugar coloring... Although his movements were not as nimble as when he was young, he still did it with great skill and precision.

Yang Geyong stood by, helping out, handing things over, fanning the flames, and occasionally causing trouble, all while constantly offering his comments:

"The heat! Watch the heat!" "Is the caramel color a little too dark?"

The aroma of roast duck gradually filled the entire courtyard, tempting everyone's mouths.

Just as the duck was almost roasted, the sound of a car came from outside the courtyard gate. It turned out that Ye Mao, worried about the situation, had come over in person, bringing two younger members of the family with him.

Upon entering the courtyard, one is greeted by this scene: in the afterglow of the setting sun, two white-haired old men, one wearing an apron stained with oil, are intently tending to the makeshift oven.

Another person, dressed in a dirty, bright purple Tang suit with coal dust on his face, was gesturing wildly.

The rich aroma of roast duck blends with a hint of alcohol, creating a vibrant and lively atmosphere.

Looking at the rare, relaxed, even slightly childlike, smug smile on his father's face, and then at the boisterous Uncle Yang beside him, Ye Mao's worries turned into a gentle smile.

He quietly gestured to the curious younger generation behind him to be quiet, and together they joined this unexpected, heartwarming feast for the elderly. The roast duck was finally served, its skin crispy, the meat tender, and its aroma filling the air. Ye Yuze's duck-slicing skills were still superb. Yang Geyong couldn't wait to roll up a pancake and stuff it into his mouth, gasping from the heat, but still gave a thumbs-up and mumbled a praise:
"Mmm...good! Just like back then! Old Ye, you're awesome!"

Ye Yuze chuckled and cursed, then rolled one up himself and savored it slowly. The sun had completely set, and the lights in the courtyard came on, casting a warm, dim glow.

Old friends, children and grandchildren, delicious food, old residence... At this moment, all business empires and illustrious reputations seem to have faded away, leaving only the most simple and warmest moments in this courtyard.

After a few drinks, Yang Geyong started bragging again, saying he would paint his newly bought private plane the color of roast duck and call it "Flying Roast Duck," which drew laughter from the crowd.

Ye Yuze looked at him, shook his head helplessly, but his eyes were full of indulgence and warmth.

This old man may be a bit of a troublemaker, but this decades-long friendship, and the courtyard house he's brought to life, is perhaps the retirement life Ye Yuze desires most after shedding all his burdens.

"I wonder what new tricks that old rascal will pull tomorrow?" Ye Yuze thought, and the corners of his mouth couldn't help but curl up again.

As night deepened, the laughter and chatter in the courtyard continued unabated. The lingering aroma of roast duck, mixed with the aftertaste of aged "Daughter's Red" wine, made the two old men's faces flushed and their eyes sparkle with youthful radiance.

The younger generation brought by Ye Mao was initially a little reserved, but they were quickly amused by these two "lively" grandfathers and laughed heartily.

Yang Geyong was recounting with great enthusiasm his and Ye Yuze's "glorious deeds" of trading goods in the Soviet Union back then.

"...You wouldn't believe it, the snowflakes were like goose feathers, and the temperature was minus forty degrees Celsius! Your grandfather and I were wrapped in tattered military overcoats, squatting on top of the train car, with vodka in our pockets, and it was so cold! The snot that dripped from our noses would freeze into icicles!" Yang Geyong gestured, his expression exaggerated.

Ye Yuze slowly sipped his tea, then timely exposed the problem:
"Don't listen to his nonsense. It's true he squatted on top of the train car, but that military overcoat had a fur collar, and I got it from a Soviet officer in exchange for two bottles of Erguotou (a type of Chinese liquor). As for the vodka,"

He glanced at Yang Geyong and said, "Most of it went into this old man's stomach. After he finished drinking, he hugged my arm and complained that he was cold. He certainly shed a lot of snot and tears."

Everyone burst into laughter. Yang Geyong, embarrassed, retorted with a stiff neck, "I called that conserving energy! Don't you understand core body temperature? Besides, if I hadn't been quick-witted and figured out those 'scalpers' were trying to double-cross us, would our batch of furs have been able to sell so smoothly?"

"Yes, he was clever," Ye Yuze nodded seriously. "So clever that we almost drew our guns and went to war. If I hadn't slipped the rubles over in time, we would probably be buried in that freezing snow as fertilizer."

Recalling the thrills and absurdities of their youth, the two looked at each other and suddenly burst into laughter. Their laughter was loud and cheerful, so loud that it made the lanterns under the eaves sway slightly.

Some things that seemed like a life-or-death situation at the time have now become the best topics of conversation over drinks.

After the laughter subsided, Yang Geyong rubbed his belly and smacked his lips: "Just duck meat isn't enough. Old Ye, I remember there used to be an old jujube tree in your yard, right? The jujubes it bore were so sweet and crisp!"

Ye Yuze followed his gaze to the southeast corner of the yard: "It's long gone. It got in the way when they built a house, so they cut it down."

"What a pity..." Yang Geyong said with a regretful look, but then his eyes lit up and he had a new idea. "Hey! I remember now! Back in northern Xinjiang, didn't we always steal mare's milk from the Kazakh villagers? That stuff is good for cutting through grease! Do you have anything similar here? Yogurt or something?"

Ye Yuze said helplessly, "Where am I supposed to get you mare's milk this late at night?"

He thought for a moment and said to Ye Mao, who was trying not to laugh, "Go and see if there's any of those old-fashioned yogurts your mom bought in the kitchen fridge. Get a few cans for your Uncle Yang so he can reminisce about the past and appreciate the present."

Ye Mao smiled and left. Soon, several porcelain jars of yogurt were placed on the stone table.

Yang Geyong was overjoyed. He picked up a jar and clumsily tried to tear open the seal, but he couldn't manage it.

Ye Yuze couldn't stand it, so he took it, gently picked at the edge with his fingernail, and neatly peeled it off before handing it back to him.

"Hey, you're really good with your hands." Yang Geyong chuckled, took the yogurt, and without even using a spoon, gulped down a large mouthful straight from the bottle, the cold yogurt staining his beard. He smacked his lips, tasted it, and shook his head.
"The taste is wrong, not sour enough, and it doesn't have that goaty smell... no, it's more like a milky smell! It can't compare to the ones from Northern Xinjiang!"

"It's good enough to have something to drink, why be picky?"

Ye Yuze laughed and scolded, then opened a can himself and slowly scooped out some to eat with a small spoon. His movements were elegant, a stark contrast to Yang Geyong next to him, whose beard was smeared with milk and who was drinking it heartily.

As Yang Geyong ate his yogurt, his thoughts seemed to drift away again. He nudged Ye Yuze with his elbow, lowered his voice, and wore a knowing, knowing smile on his face:
"Old Ye, to be honest, back in those days in this courtyard, besides Yu'e and her sister-in-law, what happened to all the other girls? I remember they were so devoted to you..."

Ye Yuze paused for a moment, a complex emotion flashing across his face before he regained his composure and said calmly:

"That's so old news, why bring it up? What's meant to be is still here, and what's not meant to be is gone..."

"Oh..." Yang Geyong drawled, his eyes still burning with gossip, "Then... and that other person..."

"Eat your yogurt!" Ye Yuze shoved a spoonful of yogurt into Yang Geyong's mouth before he could ask any more questions, silencing him.

Some memories can only be kept in the heart, to be savored alone, and not to be shared with outsiders, not even with my old friend Yang Geyong.

Yang Geyong was stuffed with yogurt, made two muffled noises, and then became quiet.

He looked around the familiar yet unfamiliar courtyard, at his old friend who was also white-haired but still energetic, and at Ye Mao who was smiling respectfully and the lively younger generation beside him. A feeling of fullness and satisfaction welled up in his heart.

He put down the yogurt bottle, patted Ye Yuze on the shoulder, and his tone became unusually serious:

"Old Ye, sometimes when I think about it, it feels like a damn dream. From the dirt fields of northern Xinjiang, to Moscow, to Europe and America, and back to this courtyard house in Beijing... We brothers have argued and fought, but we've never broken up. This life has been worthwhile!"

Ye Yuze didn't speak, but simply picked up the wine bowl on the table (which had already been replaced with tea) and lightly tapped it against the yogurt bottle next to Yang Geyong. Everything was understood without words.

As night deepened, Ye Mao led the younger generation away first, instructing the staff to take good care of the two elderly people. The courtyard returned to silence, with only the low chirping of autumn insects remaining.

Ye Yuze and Yang Geyong, however, were not sleepy. They sat side by side on the deck chairs under the eaves, looking at the sparse stars in the night sky.

"What are we doing tomorrow?" Yang Geyong asked lazily.

"Whatever you say." Ye Yuze closed his eyes to rest.

"How about we take a stroll around Houhai? I've heard it's quite lively there now."

"It's so crowded, it's no fun."

"Then... let's go to Panjiayuan to look for bargains? Maybe we can find a treasure!"

"With that look in your eyes, don't bring back counterfeit goods as if they were family heirlooms."

"Hey! Who do you think you are! Let's go... to that braised pork offal shop we used to frequent? I wonder if it's still open..."

"It should still be there, but the taste probably isn't as good as it used to be."

"Go ahead and try it! It's settled then!"

The two old men chatted casually, planning for tomorrow that seemed boring but actually made them happy.

The moonlight bathed the courtyard, gently enveloping them, as if freezing the decades of trials and tribulations and affections within this small courtyard that held most of their life's memories.

For them, no matter how the outside world changes, as long as their old brothers are by their side, this courtyard is still the "home" they used to live in.