Great Power Reclamation

Chapter 3013 Zhao Ling'er's Awakening
Rushing into the inner room, they saw Song Qingyun curled up on the bed, shivering despite being wrapped in a blanket. Her face was flushed, her hair was soaked with sweat and stuck to her pale skin, and her lips were chapped.

When she saw Yang Geyong burst through the door, a flicker of panic flashed in her muddled eyes, but it was quickly replaced by the vulnerability brought on by her illness.

Yang Geyong's heart clenched. He strode forward, reached out and touched her forehead; it was frighteningly hot.

"She has a fever! We must go to the hospital!" He made a quick decision and tried to help her up.

“I’m not going to…the hospital…” Song Qingyun shook her head weakly, her voice pleading. She didn’t want anyone to see her like this, and she was even more afraid of attracting unnecessary attention and criticism.

Yang Geyong saw the fear and stubbornness in her eyes and understood her concerns. He gritted his teeth:

"Okay, no hospital. Wait a minute!"

He turned and rushed out, returning a moment later with a thermal blanket from the car, a wet towel he'd somehow found, and a bottle of water.

He carefully wrapped her up tightly in the blanket, wiped her burning forehead and neck with a damp towel, and then supported her, feeding her water little by little.

His movements were still far from gentle, even somewhat clumsy, but the anxious and cautious focus he displayed was clearly felt by the fragile and sensitive Song Qingyun, who was ill.

“I’ll have my family doctor come over; he’s trustworthy and keeps quiet.”

While Yang Geyong was using physical methods to lower her fever, he made a phone call, his tone leaving no room for argument, "Immediately, right now, go to XX Cultural and Creative Park and bring fever reducers and anti-inflammatory medicine! Hurry!"

While waiting for the doctor, he stayed by the bedside, constantly changing the wet towels, feeding the baby water, and awkwardly trying to say comforting words.

"It's nothing, just a cold. The fever will go down... Don't worry, I'm here..."

In her hazy, half-awake state, Song Qingyun felt a rough yet gentle touch on her forehead and heard a nagging, unpleasant yet worried voice in her ear, like the only source of warmth in the cold winter night, making her involuntarily want to get closer and draw some warmth and security.

Under the influence of the medication and exhaustion, she finally fell into a deep sleep, though her brows remained furrowed and her hand unconsciously gripped the rough hem of Yang Geyong's clothes.

Yang Geyong froze, looking down at the slender, fair hand, reddened by fever, tightly gripping his dark clothes, his heart filled with mixed emotions.

He dared not move, sitting stiffly as she held him, as if it were the most precious bond in the world.

The family doctor came, diagnosed it as a high fever caused by a severe cold, gave him an injection, left some medicine, gave him instructions, and then quietly left.

Yang Geyong stayed up all night, watching over her until dawn, when her body temperature finally dropped and her breathing became steady and long.

He gently pried open her fingers, which were still clutching the hem of his clothes, and tucked the blanket around her. Looking at her still tired face in her sleep, an unprecedented emotion, a mixture of heartache, responsibility, and a certain firm determination, surged in his chest.

He couldn't let her bear this alone any longer. The storm seemed to have subsided, but the damage had already been done. His earlier statement, "I'll hold up the sky if it falls," wasn't just empty talk.

On Zhao Ling'er's side, after the initial anger, panic, and hurt, Ye Yuze's words echoed repeatedly in her mind like a warning bell.

She began to truly and painfully reflect. She used every means at her disposal to investigate every detail of Yang Geyong and Song Qingyun's contact, but the result both relieved and made her even more embarrassed—

There was indeed no substantial evidence of infidelity. The so-called "ambiguity" was more of a conjecture by outsiders based on Yang Geyong's unusual attentiveness and Song Qingyun's talent and appearance.

Yang Geyong's feelings for Song Qingyun were more like an awkward admiration and a careful protection, far from the sordid things she initially imagined.

Looking back now, what she did... was indeed despicable. Dealing with an innocent scholar, lost in his own world, made Zhao Ling'er appear narrow-minded and ruthless. Yang Geyong's criticism of her as "guilty-hearted" might not be an exaggeration.

She sat alone in the empty villa, looking around the luxuriously decorated but utterly cold home, remembering that Yang Geyong hadn't returned for many days and hadn't even made a single phone call.

The children each had their own lives. A profound sense of loneliness and abandonment overwhelmed her.

She was a strong-willed woman all her life. Did she really want to turn herself into a hysterical woman that she herself despised, just to defend an empty shell of a marriage that was already in tacit agreement?
Ye Yuze would call occasionally, no longer mentioning the incident, just chatting about everyday things and asking about her recent situation. His tone was calm, but it always brought her a sense of comfort and clarity.

She knew that Ye Yuze was using his own way to give her time and space, and also to remind her not to lose her way.

One afternoon, with light snow falling, Zhao Ling'er drove alone and unknowingly ended up near Ye Yuze's courtyard house. She stopped the car, lingered for a long time, but eventually left...

Song Qingyun's illness came on fiercely but also subsided quickly. With Yang Geyong's almost clumsy but constant care and the family doctor's meticulous treatment, her high fever subsided on the second day, but she was still very weak, pale, and listless.

Yang Geyong completely regarded the studio as his temporary residence.

He had his assistant bring over a cot, the best down comforter, a bunch of nutritional supplements, and light food suitable for patients. He even somehow got hold of a smart pillbox to remind Song Qingyun to take her medicine on a schedule.

He himself became the worst caregiver. Although he was good at roasting meat and making naan, he could burn the porridge, forget to add salt to the soup, and peel off most of the apple flesh.

However, seeing his earnest and flustered demeanor, Song Qingyun, lying on her sickbed, gradually felt a helpless warmth replace the resentment and estrangement she had felt towards him.

She no longer deliberately kept her distance as before, allowing him to stay in the outer room of the studio and tacitly accepting his flawed care.

He still didn't talk much; it was often Yang Geyong who would ramble on about trivial things.

She listened quietly, occasionally a very faint smile appearing at the corner of her mouth, a smile she herself didn't even notice.

People who are sick are always exceptionally vulnerable, yet exceptionally lucid. Song Qingyun lay there, recalling this undeserved calamity, recalling Yang Geyong's bloodshot eyes as he burst through the door, his stiff posture while keeping watch, and now, the frustrated growl coming from the kitchen—his attempt to steam egg custard for her, which seemed to have been botched again…

She had to admit that while the man's intrusion brought a storm, it also, in his crudest way, built a barrier for her in her most isolated and helpless moment.

His promise to "hold up the sky if it falls" seems to be more than just empty words.

But then what? she asked herself. Should she accept this protection, which comes with immense trouble and controversy? Be drawn into a mid-life couple's divorce battle? Become the undisputed "other woman" in other people's eyes? Her pride and innocence wouldn't allow it.

But if she were to push him away and cut ties cleanly, would a regret remain in some corner of her heart? After all, this clumsy sincerity was a unique and passionate expression in her more than thirty years of a life of conformity, aloofness, and self-restraint.

She was plunged into unprecedented confusion.

Yang Geyong was also suffering. Song Qingyun's stable condition relieved him, but the delicate, inability to take things further between them made him anxious.

He didn't dare to pressure her, so he could only treat her even better and prove his determination through his actions. At the same time, he didn't give up on dealing with external troubles.

Instead of going through Ye Yuze, he personally met with several key figures who had either fueled the fire or remained silent in the Song Qingyun incident, in his capacity as the head of the Brothers Group.

There were no threats, no bribes, just a calm presentation of the facts, stating Song Qingyun's innocence and his own attitude.

“I, Yang Geyong, am a rough man, but I have a clear sense of right and wrong. Teacher Song was wronged because of me, and I keep track of this matter.”

He sat in the luxuriously decorated private club, his tone calm, yet carrying an undeniable sense of pressure:
"Any misunderstandings from the past can be forgiven for the sake of our relationship. But from now on, I don't want to hear any more discordant voices regarding Professor Song Qingyun's research and reputation. If she succeeds, we can all live in peace; if she encounters even the slightest setback..."

He paused, his gaze sweeping over the group of people opposite him, each with a different expression. "That's me, Yang Geyong, having a bad day. When things aren't going well for me, I like to find someone to vent to. My methods might not be very civilized, so please forgive me."

Having said that, how could those who were already intimidated by Ye Yuze's influence or who were opportunistic dare to be the slightest bit negligent?

They all expressed their support for Teacher Song's work and sought to clarify the misunderstanding. Yang Geyong's direct and forceful display of strength, while still retaining his characteristic bluntness and arrogance, effectively established a more solid protective circle around Song Qingyun.

After dealing with all that, he still had an even heavier burden on his mind—Zhao Ling'er.

He knew the real crux of the problem lay there. Without resolving the decades-long grievances and this recent conflict with Zhao Ling'er, he and Song Qingyun would never have peace, and he would never be able to truly give Song Qingyun a legitimate future. After facing days of loneliness and reflection alone, Zhao Ling'er finally took the initiative to dial Ye Yuze's number, her voice weary but calm: "Yuze, I want to see you, right now."

Ye Yuze received her in the courtyard. Zhao Ling'er looked much thinner, and the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes seemed deeper, but the aggressive sharpness in her eyes had faded considerably, replaced by a deep weariness and... a trace of clarity.

She didn't cry or complain; she simply sat opposite Ye Yuze, holding a cup of hot tea, gazing at the snow-covered pomegranate tree in the courtyard, and slowly began to speak:
“These days, I’ve thought a lot. I’ve gone through the days from when I first met Lao Yang until now, like watching a movie, over and over again.”

“When I was young, I was in the Production and Construction Corps. It was tough, but my heart was full. He listened to everything I said, and I took it for granted.”

"Later, he joined you in business and ventured out into the world. It was even more difficult, but we were a team, working together towards the same goal."

“I don’t know when it started, maybe it was when the children grew up, or maybe it was when we had more money and things went smoothly... I felt that he was becoming less and less like the Yang Geyong he used to be. He was lazy, playful, and unserious. The more I tried to control him, the more I wanted to pull him back to what I thought was the ‘right track’.”

“I always felt that I was the one who supported this family and this business, and he had to listen to me. I made managing him and correcting him a habit, a responsibility, and even... an expression of love.”

She gave a bitter smile, a smile tinged with resentment: "But I forgot to ask him what he wanted, whether he was happy. I thought giving him the best material things and keeping him from making any big mistakes was the best thing I could do for him. Until this time..."

She paused, her voice choked with emotion: "Until this time, when he looked at me with those eyes and said he wanted a divorce... I suddenly realized that I might have lost him a long time ago. It wasn't Song Qingyun who stole him away; it was myself who pushed him away little by little."

“Yuze, you’re right. My mistake wasn’t dealing with that girl, but… I’ve never learned how to truly respect my husband, or how to love a complete person with their own thoughts.”

Zhao Ling'er's tears finally fell, not from anger, but from regret and sorrow. "I 'loved' him in my own way for decades, but I loved him so much that he wanted to run away."

Ye Yuze listened quietly without interrupting. He knew that Zhao Ling'er's words came from profound pain and deep understanding. This was not a momentary weakness, but a soul-searching reflection.

“Ling’er,” Ye Yuze said slowly after she had calmed down a bit, “it’s not easy to understand all this. But just understanding isn’t enough; you need to let Ge Yong know what you’re thinking. Your marriage is like this old pomegranate tree.”

He pointed out the window, “The roots are still in the ground, but the branches are growing too haphazardly, crowding each other and not breathing. If you don’t prune them, problems will arise sooner or later. Now the storm has knocked off some dead branches and leaves, exposing the root of the disease. Whether you let the wounds rot and the whole tree die, or you prune it ruthlessly and take good care of it so that it can sprout new buds, is up to you.”

Zhao Ling'er looked up at Ye Yuze with tearful eyes: "I...I don't know if he's still willing to give me, or our family, a chance to make amends."

“You’ll have to ask him about that,” Ye Yuze said with a deep gaze. “But Ling’er, you have to remember, if you really want to win him back, it’s not about begging or trying to control him, but about genuine change and respect. That includes the right attitude and compensation you should give to Song Qingyun, that child.”

Zhao Ling'er's body trembled slightly. After a long silence, she finally nodded heavily.

A few days later, on a sunny but chilly afternoon, Song Qingyun, having mostly recovered, was slowly tidying up scattered sheet music in her studio. A knock sounded at the door, neither too loud nor too soft, very restrained.

Thinking it was Yang Geyong, she got up to open the door. Standing outside was a middle-aged woman with a capable demeanor, well-dressed, and complex eyes—Zhao Ling'er.

Song Qingyun froze instantly, her face turned pale, and she subconsciously took a half step back, her fingers gripping the door frame tightly.

Seeing Song Qingyun's instantly wary and pale face, Zhao Ling'er's last bit of resentment and unwillingness was replaced by deep guilt. She didn't try to go inside, but stood at the doorway and bowed deeply and solemnly to Song Qingyun.

"Teacher Song, I'm sorry." Zhao Ling'er's voice was clear and sincere, with a barely perceptible tremor:
"What happened before was a moment of folly on my part. I made a terrible mistake. I caused you so much harm and trouble, and I... I sincerely apologize to you. I will take responsibility for clarifying and eliminating all the rumors and pressure. Please... forgive me."

Song Qingyun was completely stunned. She had anticipated countless possibilities, including even more intense conflicts, but she never imagined that this legendary "Mrs. Yang," known for her strong-willed methods, would personally come to apologize in such a humble manner.

Seeing the deep regret in her eyes and the loss of aggression, Song Qingyun felt a lump in her throat.

“You…you don’t have to do this.” Song Qingyun’s voice was a little hoarse. “What’s done is done.”

“No, the apology must be given.” Zhao Ling’er straightened up, looked at Song Qingyun, and said in a more serious tone:

"Furthermore, the matter between you and Lao Yang is between you two. I had no right to interfere before, and I will not interfere again. I apologize again for the trouble he caused you before."

"He's a... very complicated person, with his good points and his scoundrels. How you choose is your business. I just hope that my mistake won't affect your judgment of him or your own future."

After speaking, Zhao Ling'er didn't linger. She nodded slightly again, turned, and left. Her back was straight, as if she had unloaded some heavy burden.

Song Qingyun leaned against the door, watching Zhao Ling'er disappear at the top of the stairs, her feelings complicated and indescribable.

Zhao Ling'er's apology was like a key, unlocking a box in her heart that had been tightly locked, filled with grievances and anger. Although the wounds wouldn't disappear immediately, at least the source of the constant pressure had been removed.

Her final words about "choice" completely handed the decision-making power back to Song Qingyun herself.

Almost immediately after Zhao Ling'er left, Yang Geyong ran up, panting, his face showing unusual tension and worry:

"Qingyun! I just heard that Ling'er came over? Did she do anything to you?" He had obviously received the news and rushed over immediately.

Looking at Yang Geyong's genuine anxiety and recalling Zhao Ling'er's words, Song Qingyun suddenly felt that the thick fog that had been shrouding her heart seemed to have been blown open by these two completely different yet equally intense emotions.

She looked at Yang Geyong, not answering his question, but softly asking the question that had been lingering in her mind for a long time:

"Yang Geyong, what... exactly do you want?"

Yang Geyong was taken aback by her question. Then, the tension on his face slowly faded, replaced by an unprecedented solemnity and clarity.

He straightened his back, and in those eyes that always revealed either honesty or shrewdness, there was now only openness and determination:

"What I want may have been unclear before. But now, I know it very clearly."

"I want you to be safe, happy, and able to do the research you love and play the music you like without feeling wronged by anything inexplicable."

"I want an opportunity, an opportunity to treat you well and take care of you openly and honestly, instead of doing it secretly and making you live in fear like this."

"I also need to sort out the mess on my side and give the past an explanation. No matter what the final outcome is, I can't drag you down anymore."

“I, Yang Geyong, have lived half my life like a farce, but now, I want to live seriously for myself, and for… for you. That’s what I want.”

His words remained direct, even unromantic, yet every word struck Song Qingyun's heart. There was no evasion, no ambiguity; he clearly defined his boundaries and direction.

Sunlight streamed through the window after the snow, illuminating the two of them. Dust motes floated slowly in the beams of light.

Looking at the man before her, whose eyes were burning with passion and sincerity, Song Qingyun recalled the relief and letting go that Zhao Ling'er had shown when she left. The heavy weight on her heart seemed to be lifted by these two forces working together.

The road ahead is still fraught with thorns and unknowns. She still needs to carefully weigh the pressures of morality, the judgment of the world, her inner pride, and the stirrings of her emotions.

But at least, at this moment, she was no longer a lone boat passively enduring the storm. She saw the possible sunshine after the storm, and she saw the unmistakable sincerity in the eyes of the man who was willing to hold up the sky for her and to sort out his chaotic life for her.

She turned her head slightly, avoiding his overly intense gaze, and looked out at the clear blue sky. After a long while, she sighed very softly, almost inaudibly.

That sigh contained helplessness and struggle, but also a hint of... a subtle loosening, like ice cracking.

The coldest part of winter seems to be passing, and perhaps the real spring is hidden behind the sounds of the difficult ice breaking.

The moment of choice is approaching. Whether it's Yang Geyong, Zhao Ling'er, or Song Qingyun, they all stand at a crossroads in their lives. Which way they step next will determine the scenery of the rest of their lives.

Ye Yuze, meanwhile, remained quietly waiting in the warm sunshine of the courtyard for the final answer from the people he cared about.