Great Power Reclamation

Chapter 3010 Jealousy
Since the recording of that courtyard house, Yang Geyong seems to have found a new direction in life.

His approach to Song Qingyun’s “cultural concern” gradually developed into a systematic and highly personal “honest and straightforward” offensive.

His study was the first to suffer. The bookshelves, which were originally filled with business reports and rare treasures from all over the world (most of which were gifts from others, and he was just doing it for fun), were now crammed with a whole row of books on Chinese classical music, Dunhuang art, and the history of the Silk Road, ranging from beginner to advanced, covering a wide variety of topics.

Wearing reading glasses, he sat upright like a primary school student, trying to decipher the obscure technical jargon. Every now and then, he would take pictures of the pages and send them to Ye Yuze via WeChat (which he had only recently learned and used haltingly) for help.

"Old Ye! Take a look! What does this 'Voice of Change' mean? How is it different from being out of tune?" It was followed by a string of garbled emoticons.

Ye Yuze usually replies with a concise Baidu Encyclopedia link, or simply two words: "Look it up yourself."

Undeterred, Yang Geyong would meticulously take notes after completing his research. His notebook was filled with crooked handwriting, mixed with pinyin and symbols only he could understand. Occasionally, he would even draw an abstract zither or camel (representing the Silk Road?), which made people chuckle.

He began to frequently "bump into" Song Qingyun, the locations expanding from the National Library to the backstage of the concert hall (he somehow obtained a pass), the entrance to art seminars (he impersonated the CEO of a cultural company), and even a secluded teahouse Song Qingyun frequented. Each time, he feigned great surprise and delight.

"Oh my! Teacher Song! What a coincidence! You're here too... to look up information/attend a lecture/have some tea?" The lines are always the same, and the acting is so exaggerated it's outrageous.

From initial surprise and slight confusion, Song Qingyun gradually got used to it and even found this seemingly rough but actually kind-hearted "Mr. Yang" to be somewhat... cute?
Especially when you see him trying so hard to discuss professional topics with you, but always referring to "konghou" as "that big pipa that is played vertically" and understanding "gongche notation" as "a carpenter's ruler", his clumsy earnestness makes it hard to really dislike him.

Yang Geyong's "warmth" delivery is also being upgraded. It's no longer just about sending overly sweet snacks.

When the first cold wave hit Beijing, Song Qingyun's studio had a heating problem, and the repairman couldn't come for a while.

She was worrying about the cold strings when Yang Geyong, having somehow gotten wind of it, personally led two workers, carrying two brand-new, extremely quiet heaters, a large bag of hand warmers, and an expensive-looking cashmere blanket, and rushed in.

"Teacher Song! It's cold outside! Put this on first!"

Without a word, he wrapped the blanket around Song Qingyun, his movements slightly rough but revealing an urgent urgency that left no room for refusal. "You can use this heater for now. I'll have someone keep an eye on the property management to fix the heating. If they can't fix it, I'll hold them accountable!"

Song Qingyun was both amused and exasperated by his display, yet a warm feeling welled up inside her. Her studio was located in a remote area, and few people had ever shown such meticulous concern for her trivial practical difficulties.

"Mr. Yang, this is too much trouble for you..."

"What trouble! It's just a small matter!" Yang Geyong waved his hand and directed the workers to install the heater. He then wandered around the room like a supervisor, occasionally touching the walls to check the temperature, and muttering, "These walls are thick enough, they should be fine."

Seeing him bustling around, his forehead even slightly sweaty, Song Qingyun couldn't bring herself to say "Really, it's not necessary." She silently brewed a cup of hot tea and handed it to him: "Mr. Yang, have some tea and rest for a while."

Yang Geyong took the teacup, his hand seeming to tremble slightly, almost spilling the tea. He grinned, revealing two rows of still-strong, white teeth:
"Okay! Thank you, Teacher Song!" His smile was somewhat like that of a large dog that had just received a reward, both honest and satisfied.

What impressed Song Qingyun the most was a small academic salon on the translation and introduction of ancient genealogies.

The organizers invited her, and also, almost by accident, sent an invitation to Yang Geyong, who "has a strong interest in traditional culture."

Yang Geyong actually came. He sat among a group of scholars and professors, wearing a rare formal suit, his back ramrod straight, his expression as serious as if he were attending a United Nations meeting.

When discussing a controversial fingering technique in a Tang Dynasty musical score, an elderly professor quoted extensively from classical texts and spoke eloquently.

Yang Geyong was completely confused, but he tried his best to open his eyes wide, afraid of missing a single word. When another young scholar raised a different opinion and the two sides started to argue, Yang Geyong suddenly raised his hand.

Everyone looked at this "outsider" with surprise. The host politely asked, "Mr. Yang, what are your insights?"

Yang Geyong cleared his throat and said in a serious tone:
"I don't have any profound insights. I'm just an amateur. But I think that the way the ancients played the qin is similar to how we do things now. They always strive for 'smoothness,' right? The fingering should be done however feels right and how you can produce that flavor. Instead of just talking about what's in the books, why not find a good qin player and try it out in practice?"

His words were crude and straightforward, lacking academic value, yet they unexpectedly pierced the fog of scholars' sometimes over-entanglement with texts.

The room fell silent for a moment, then the old professor laughed: "Mr. Yang's words may be rough, but they make a lot of sense. Practice makes perfect; sometimes we just get too caught up in the details."

Song Qingyun sat to the side, watching Yang Geyong's eyes light up instantly because his words were recognized, and his undisguised, slightly smug smile. A soft spot in her heart was gently touched.

This person may not understand those profound theories, but he has a simple wisdom that goes straight to the essence and a sincerity that is completely unpretentious.

After the salon ended, a cold rain started to fall outside. Song Qingyun hadn't brought an umbrella, and as she hesitated, a sturdy, large black umbrella was held over her head.

"Teacher Song, my car is just ahead, shall I take you home?" Yang Geyong held up the umbrella, with most of his shoulder exposed to the rain, but he tilted the umbrella completely towards her.

"No need, Mr. Yang, I'll just take a taxi."

“This rain isn’t going to stop anytime soon, and it’s hard to get a taxi. It’s on my way, it’s on my way!” Yang Geyong insisted, his eyes filled with concern that brooked no refusal.

The car was well-heated. Yang Geyong, unusually silent, focused solely on driving.

While waiting at a red light, he suddenly took a small thermos from the glove compartment and handed it to Song Qingyun:
"Hot rock sugar pear soup, my... my housekeeper made it, just to soothe your throat. You've all talked so much today."

Song Qingyun took the still-warm thermos, the warmth from her fingertips seeming to spread all the way to her heart. She lowered her head and softly said, "Thank you."

The car drove smoothly along the rainy night streets, the neon lights outside the window blurring into a warm halo. Song Qingyun held her thermos, sipping her sweet pear soup, listening to the rhythm of raindrops hitting the roof. For the first time, she felt a strange, reassuring tranquility beside this always boisterous man.

She secretly turned her head and glanced at Yang Geyong, who was focused on driving. Under the dim light of the car interior, the lines of his profile seemed much softer, and his eyes, which were usually sharp or honest, appeared particularly calm in the night.

Perhaps... this person is not as rough around the edges as he appears, nor is he just a nouveau riche who squanders money as rumored.

A subtle feeling, one that she herself had not yet fully understood, quietly arose, like the mist gradually spreading on the car window.

She knew that this feeling of being moved did not stem from expensive gifts or deliberate romance, but from those clumsy yet genuine concerns, those heartfelt respects, and that undisguised, childlike sincerity.

For Yang Geyong, seeing Song Qingyun quietly drinking pear soup in the rearview mirror filled his heart with warmth and sweetness, just like that thermos.

He felt like he had figured out a bit of the trick—to be good to someone like Teacher Song, you have to be genuine and sincere.

As for what will happen in the future, he doesn't think too much about it. Just like when he followed Ye Yuze back then, once he made up his mind, he would single-mindedly push forward, and he couldn't go wrong.

The rain is still falling. The warmth and quiet inside the car, and the hustle and bustle and lights of the city outside, intertwine to create a simple yet moving picture.

A simple and honest man from northern Xinjiang and a gentle and refined musician from southern China—two seemingly parallel lines that would never intersect—seem to bend quietly and create a subtle point of intersection on this winter night because of a clumsy but sincere heart.

All of this was observed by the old man in the courtyard who was enjoying tea and chess. Through Yang Geyong's incoherent yet animated report afterward, the old man watched it all unfold and a knowing yet gratified smile appeared on his lips.

This old man's "love life" seems to be getting better and better. Although his methods are still "endearingly naive", his sincerity is more valuable than anything else.

The city had just thawed, and the air still carried a chill, but Yang Geyong felt as if he had a small stove burning inside him, keeping him warm and happy all day long.

He felt that his "transformation" was going more and more smoothly. Although he and Song Qingyun hadn't made anything clear yet, the tacit understanding between them and the occasional grateful glance were enough for him to savor for a long time.

Even Ye Yuze said that he "has become much more respectable lately and is not so annoying anymore."

However, fate is unpredictable, and so is life... A formidable wife suddenly arrives. Zhao Ling'er, Yang Geyong's legally rightful wife, is an iron lady who came from the military reclamation city. After retiring, she has been managing the foundation left by Liu Qinghua in the United States, and her skills and abilities are in no way inferior to any business tycoon.

She was decisive and had a fiery personality. Back then, she was able to keep Yang Geyong in line, and that was not just because of their marital status.

She, Ye Yuze, and Yang Geyong were true childhood friends, having grown up together in the military corps. This relationship made her always speak her mind in front of Ye Yuze, even... a little unrestrained.

She returned to China suddenly, without notifying anyone. As soon as she got off the plane, she went straight to Yang Geyong's luxury apartment in Beijing, only to find it empty.

The butler stammered, but how could he hide it from the shrewd Zhao Ling'er?
With just a few words, Yang Geyong's recent whereabouts were revealed—he frequently visited the studio of a female teacher who worked on ancient music, and he also kept going to Ye Yuze's courtyard house.

Zhao Ling'er's face immediately darkened. She knew Yang Geyong; the old man had been a womanizer in his youth, known as a "stud," but those were all fleeting affairs and transactions of money and sex, so she had turned a blind eye to them.

But judging from this, it seems different this time? A "teacher of ancient music"? "Cultural concern"?
Her anger flared up instantly. "You, Yang Geyong! I'm managing this empire for you abroad, and you're indulging in artsy pursuits and having an emotional affair back home?"

Instead of rushing to find Yang Geyong, she first used her connections to thoroughly investigate Song Qingyun.

The information was quickly presented to her: a respectable family background, exceptional talent, a passion for art, and a simple lifestyle... She seemed flawless, and could even be described as a very good girl.

But this only fueled Zhao Ling'er's anger! Well, this time she even picked a "high-end" one! If something really happens, where will she, Zhao Ling'er, put her face?
She made a phone call directly to Ye Yuze's courtyard house, her tone calm yet brimming with suppressed turmoil:
"Yuze, it's me, Ling'er. I'm back. I heard Lao Yang's been quite active around you lately? He even met some kind of 'kindred spirit' in the arts? As the older brother, are you just going to watch?"

Ye Yuze's heart skipped a beat when he received the call. He was all too familiar with Zhao Ling'er's accusatory tone. He tried to smooth things over:
"Ling'er, don't panic, things aren't what you think. Ge Yong is..."

“What do you mean?” Zhao Ling’er interrupted him, her voice suddenly rising, “Ye Yuze, don’t try to fool me! How many years have we known each other? You can protect him, but you can’t just watch me get fooled like a fool! I’m telling you right now, this isn’t over!”

After that, he hung up the phone directly.

Ye Yuze held his phone, which was emitting a busy tone, and smiled wryly. Zhao Ling'er had a temper that flared up easily, and she was also very stubborn.

He knew her too well; this matter was unlikely to end well. He immediately called Yang Geyong and told him to "get over here" right away.

Yang Geyong was still basking in the joy of having once again "successfully" delivered a copy of an overseas document that Song Qingyun urgently needed when he received a serious phone call from Ye Yuze, which made him feel a little uneasy.

When he arrived at the courtyard, he saw Ye Yuze's "good luck" expression. Before he could even ask a question, the courtyard gate was pushed open with a "bang".

Zhao Ling'er has arrived.

She wore a sharp black cashmere coat, her short hair was neatly styled, and although she was older, her aura of being in a high position and decisive in killing was undiminished, and even more intimidating because of her anger.

She glanced at Yang Geyong, who stood frozen in the courtyard, and Ye Yuze, who was frowning, and sneered: "They're both here? That's good."

“Ling…Ling’er, why are you back? You didn’t even say anything…” Yang Geyong subconsciously shrank his neck, his voice becoming three degrees lower. It was a conditioned reflex formed over decades and etched into his bones.

"If I didn't come back, how would I know that you, Boss Yang, are living such a successful and 'cultured' life in China?"

Zhao Ling'er approached step by step, her eyes like knives. "I heard you've been getting close to a Teacher Song lately? What, do you think I'm too old, uncultured, and not good enough for you? Are you starting to seek intellectual resonance now?"

"No! Absolutely not!" Yang Geyong was sweating profusely and at a loss for what to do. "I just... I just admire Teacher Song's talent! I wanted to help out a little! Old Ye can vouch for me!" He looked at Ye Yuze for help.

Ye Yuze rubbed his temples and said, "Ling'er, Ge Yong really didn't do anything reckless this time. He respects and appreciates Teacher Song, which is different from his previous actions. Calm down and don't believe everything you hear."

"Ye Yuze!" Zhao Ling'er suddenly turned to him, her eyes reddening. "Even you're taking his side? Yes, you two are brothers! But I, Zhao Ling'er, grew up with you, playing in the mud together! How much have I sacrificed for him, for this family? Back in the army, later in America... And now he's acting all high and mighty? That Song Qingyun, young, talented, and beautiful, isn't she?"

Her voice was choked with sobs and filled with immense grievance—an outburst of emotions pent up over many years. Ye Yuze was speechless.

He was adept at dealing with the wolves and tigers of the business world, but when faced with Zhao Ling'er's overwhelming anger, which was a mixture of deep affection, sacrifice, a sense of betrayal, and a loss of dignity, all his reasoning and tactics seemed pale and powerless.

This is a family matter, and even an upright official would find it difficult to judge. Moreover, Zhao Ling'er is not only a "wife" but also an inseparable "childhood friend."

"No, Ling'er, let me explain..." Yang Geyong tried to step forward.

"Explain what? Explain with your cloyingly sweet fermented rice balls? Or explain with your nonsensical, outdated documents?"

Zhao Ling'er had clearly investigated thoroughly; every word she said was like a slap in the face to Yang Geyong.
"Yang Geyong, let me tell you, don't even think about it!"

She grew angrier and angrier as she spoke. Seeing Yang Geyong's cowardly and anxious appearance, her anger surged to the top of her head. She grabbed a decorative porcelain vase from the flower stand under the corridor (Ye Yuze's heart skipped a beat) and smashed it at Yang Geyong!

Yang Geyong didn't dare to dodge, or rather, he didn't expect her to actually hit him. With a muffled "bang," the vase smashed against his arm and shattered. Luckily, his clothes were thick in winter, so there was no blood, but it was definitely a bruise.

"Are you crazy!" Yang Geyong exclaimed anxiously, wincing in pain.

"I've gone mad! So what?" Zhao Ling'er's chest heaved violently as she pointed to the door. "You, right now, immediately, come back with me! From this day forward, you are not allowed to have any contact with that man surnamed Song! Otherwise, don't blame me for disregarding our decades-long friendship!"

Yang Geyong, with his neck stiff, did not immediately back down, even under Zhao Ling'er's intense anger for the first time.

He felt aggrieved, thought Zhao Ling'er was unreasonable, and felt even more sorry for Song Qingyun, who had been implicated and slandered for no reason.

His silence and resistance undoubtedly confirmed in Zhao Ling'er's eyes that he had a guilty conscience.

She was even more furious, turned around and walked out, leaving behind the words:
"Fine, you're not leaving, huh? I'm going to have a good talk with that 'Teacher Song'! I'll let her know what kind of person this 'admirable' Boss Yang really is! Whether he has the right to 'pretend to be cultured'!"

Upon hearing this, Yang Geyong and Ye Yuze both changed color!
"Ling'er! Don't do anything reckless!" Ye Yuze shouted sternly, trying to stop her.

Zhao Ling'er turned around, her eyes cold and resolute: "Ye Yuze, don't get involved in this! If you do, our decades-long friendship ends here today!" She was truly capable of doing such a thing.

Yang Geyong panicked completely. He knew Zhao Ling'er's methods. If things really escalated to Song Qingyun's level, given Song Qingyun's proud nature, he didn't know how much grievance and harm she would suffer. All his efforts and the relationship he had carefully maintained would be destroyed in an instant, and Song Qingyun would suffer an undeserved disaster.

"No! Ling'er! I'll go back with you! I'll go back with you, okay?!"

Yang Geyong finally gave in and caught up with Zhao Ling'er, pleading with her, "Please, don't go to Teacher Song, she's innocent! It's all my fault! I'm a bastard! I'll go back with you and accept the punishment!"

Seeing Yang Geyong begging her so humbly to protect another woman, Zhao Ling'er felt an unbearable pain in her heart, but at the same time, she also felt a twisted sense of pleasure.

She snorted coldly and didn't insist on going to find Song Qingyun immediately, but she grabbed Yang Geyong's arm and practically dragged him out of the courtyard.

Ye Yuze was the only one left in the courtyard. Looking at the mess of broken porcelain and the still-shaking gate, he let out a long, helpless sigh.

This turmoil is unlikely to subside so easily. Zhao Ling'er is capable of anything when she's angry.

As for Song Qingyun, who was innocently dragged into this... Ye Yuze rubbed his temples, feeling a headache coming on.

This old man's "love life" was indeed not smooth sailing, but he never expected that the biggest storm would come from his backyard.

And he, the "retired emperor," seems genuinely...helpless in this matter. His childhood friend's family affairs are more difficult to handle than cross-border mergers and acquisitions.