Great Power Reclamation

Finally, Yang Geyong couldn't hold back any longer. He couldn't stand the unresolved silence. He cleared his throat, his voice a little dry: "Qingyun... Teacher Song, are you feeling better?"

"Okay, all done. Thank you for your concern." Song Qingyun nodded, her gaze falling on the rising steam from the teacup. "I've also figured some things out during this time."

Yang Geyong's heart leaped into his throat, and his fingers unconsciously clenched his knees.

Song Qingyun raised her eyes and looked at him, her gaze clear and earnest:
“Mr. Yang, first of all, I want to thank you. Thank you for taking care of me when I was sick, and thank you for... for the words you said and the things you did during my most difficult time. Although the way you did it may not have been the most appropriate, I felt your kindness.”

Yang Geyong quickly waved his hand: "No, no, I should be the one apologizing. It all started because of me..."

Song Qingyun gently raised her hand to stop him: "Ms. Zhao has apologized for what happened in the past, and you have been trying to make amends. Some hurts take time to heal, but I'm not one to dwell on the past. I asked you to come here today to talk about the future."

She paused, seemingly choosing her words carefully, her tone steady and firm:
“Yang Geyong, I admit that your actions during this period have shown me a different side of you.”

"He's not the 'tycoon Yang' of rumors, who spends money like water and leaves a trail of broken hearts, but a man who...is willing to take responsibility for his mistakes, willing to learn to respect and understand another person's world, and even willing to change himself for it. This clumsy sincerity is very precious to me."

Yang Geyong's eyes gradually brightened, and his heart pounded wildly, almost bursting out of his chest.

However, Song Qingyun's next words caused the newly ignited flame of hope to encounter a biting spring chill.

“But,” she changed the subject, her eyes still calm but with a hint of clear-headed detachment, “being moved and cherished are not the same as love, much less the same as us being able to be together naturally.”

"We come from completely different worlds. Your world is complex, noisy, and full of interests and struggles."

“My world is simple and quiet, containing only old papers and musical strings. You are used to solving problems with power and wealth, while I am used to protecting myself with reason and rules. We are like two lines that were originally parallel, which intersected because of an accident, but that doesn’t mean we can naturally merge into one line.”

“More importantly,” Song Qingyun’s voice was lower but clearer, “you have just ended a marriage that lasted for decades. Whatever the reason, it was a huge emotional break and a reshaping of your life.”

"You need time to truly understand yourself, deal with past issues, and rediscover your independent and complete self, rather than rushing into another relationship to fill an old void or prove something with new emotions. Such a beginning is neither fair nor stable for anyone."

The color drained from Yang Geyong's face. He opened his mouth, wanting to refute, but found that every word Song Qingyun spoke was like a precise scalpel, dissecting the chaos in his heart that he himself might not even be able to see clearly.

“So,” Song Qingyun said finally, meeting his somewhat dazed eyes with a frank gaze, “my answer is: right now, I cannot accept your feelings, nor can I make any promises to you.”

Hope deflated instantly, like a punctured balloon. Yang Geyong felt a chill rise from the soles of his feet and spread throughout his body.

He lowered his head, looking at the tea leaves swirling in the cup, his throat tightening, and after a long while, he managed to squeeze out a sentence: "I... understand. I was... too hasty, and my thinking was too simplistic."

Seeing his eyes dim instantly and his shoulders slump, Song Qingyun felt a slight pang of pity. But she knew that softening her heart now would be the greatest irresponsibility towards the future.

She picked up the teapot and poured him more hot tea, her voice softening slightly but remaining firm:
"I'm not finished yet."

Yang Geyong raised his head sharply, a faint glimmer of hope rekindling in his eyes.

"I said 'not now,'" Song Qingyun said, looking at him and enunciating each word clearly.
“But I didn’t close the door completely. Yang Geyong, if you really want to live earnestly for yourself, and for… for a possible relationship, as you say, then please live your own life well first.”

“You need to properly handle all the legal, emotional, and financial issues between you and Ms. Zhao. It’s not about a temporary separation, but about a true break or rebuilding. Whatever the outcome, you must be clear, unambiguous, and have a clear conscience.”

"Find your own rhythm and focus in life, and find things that make you feel fulfilled and happy, besides chasing after a woman or doing business."

“Then,” she paused, a faint, almost imperceptible warmth flashing in her eyes:

"If your 'desire' back then is still as clear and firm as it is today, and if you face me as a complete and independent 'Yang Geyong,' perhaps... we can start as friends, get to know each other again, and see if there is any possibility for us to walk side by side on two different paths."

This is neither rejection nor acceptance. It is a demanding, rational "observation period" and "entry condition." It requires Yang Geyong to first complete his own self-transformation before he is qualified to knock on the door of her world.

Yang Geyong listened intently, his initial disappointment and frustration gradually replaced by a more complex emotion—a sense of heaviness, clarity, and a touch of being respected and... a thrill of being challenged.

Song Qingyun did not fawn over him because he was rich and powerful, nor was she easily moved by his "sincerity." She drew a clear and high line, requiring him to transcend himself in order to get close to her.

This is so Song Qingyun. Sober, proud, and serious about her own and others' lives.

After a long pause, Yang Geyong took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. He straightened his back, and the confusion and disappointment in his eyes were gradually replaced by a resolute determination. He picked up the small brocade box and pushed it in front of Song Qingyun:
"This is some information I found before about 'Fan Jia Chong'. It might be useful to you. Just accept it as a gift from a friend, don't feel any pressure."

Then, looking into Song Qingyun's eyes, he solemnly, as if making a vow, said:
"Qingyun, I've remembered your words. Every single one is etched in my heart. You're right, I am indeed a mess right now and have no right to ask for anything. You've shown me a clear path, though it's difficult, but I, Yang Geyong, am determined to walk it!"

"I'll do as you say, first sort out this mess I've made, and live a decent life. When I feel I'm qualified, I'll come back to you. At that time, you don't need to promise me anything right away, just... just give me a chance to get to know you again, that's enough."

“I won’t bother you again during this time. But I promised to make sure you won’t be wronged anymore, and I will continue to do so in a way that makes you feel comfortable. You can focus on your research and play your piano.”

"I'm waiting for you... and I'm waiting for myself too."

After saying that, he stood up, without saying anything more or trying to hold her hand. He just looked at her deeply, his eyes filled with reluctance, determination, and a burning fighting spirit that belonged to the true nature of a man.

Then, he turned around and strode out of the studio. His back, bathed in the spring sunshine, revealed a long-lost uprightness and neatness.

Song Qingyun sat there, listening to the receding, firm footsteps on the stairs, motionless for a long time. She lowered her head, opened the brocade box, and looked at the neat yet old handwriting on the yellowed pages inside, her fingertips gently tracing its surface. The tea had gone cold, but her heart was far from calm.

She declined the possibility of starting immediately, but offered a path that required immense courage and perseverance to traverse.

This path is a test for Yang Geyong, and for her as well, it is a long and cautious wait and observation.
The sunlight outside the window is even brighter, and the magnolias are in full bloom. Spring has truly arrived. Old entanglements are gradually revealing their clearer outlines under the sunlight, while new vitality is quietly sprouting in everyone's heart.

Yang Geyong embarked on the most important "cultivation" of his life, Zhao Ling'er searched for the meaning of her own life on an unfamiliar road, and Song Qingyun left an unlocked window in her quiet world.

As for whether that window will open in the future, and what kind of scenery will appear, it takes time, growth, and also a touch of the unpredictable twist of fate.

Under the magnolia tree in the courtyard not far away, Ye Yuze listened to Yang Geyong's report on the phone, which was filled with disappointment but also high morale. He slowly put down the purple clay teapot in his hand, and a truly relaxed and gratified smile appeared on his face.

Young eagles must endure the pain of having their beaks broken and feathers plucked before they can soar; old trees must also endure the hardship of pruning and trimming before they can bloom again.

Now, everyone has found their own path, though it may be bumpy, the direction is clear. This old man can finally put his mind at ease, watching the clouds drift by and listening to the flowers bloom and fade.

As spring deepens, the magnolia blossoms in the courtyard have faded, but the pomegranate flowers are blooming in full glory. Life seems to have truly settled down, with everyone on their own path, silently undergoing a kind of "cultivation."

Yang Geyong was truly like a different person. He didn't return to the hotel's long-term rental room, but instead rented a house in a quiet courtyard near Xishan Mountain. It was neither too far nor too close to the city center, allowing him to handle necessary matters while avoiding the hustle and bustle of the past.

He began to truly learn to live independently—yes, learn. This tycoon, who had once been waited on hand and foot, began to clumsily study washing machine modes, distinguish between light and dark soy sauce, and even try to grow some scallions and cilantro in his yard (most of which ended in them withering and dying).

He treated these trivial "failures" as amusing incidents, and sometimes he would even take pictures and send them to Ye Yuze for "advice," leaving Ye Yuze both amused and exasperated.

In terms of work, he delegated authority more thoroughly, focusing only on strategic direction and major decisions, while leaving daily management entirely to a mature team of professional managers.

He devoted more energy to the cultural industry sector, which he had previously only dabbled in, but no longer simply spent money on sponsorships.

He hired a professional consulting team to systematically study policies, markets, and artistic value, and his investment focus began to shift towards projects with genuine cultural heritage value and healthy, sustainable business models.

He even started reading books on economics and management and the cultural industry, and although it gave him a headache, he insisted on taking notes.

In his words, "I can't be chatting with Qingyun in the future and only be able to talk about money, can I? I should at least know what 'IP derivatives' and 'user experience' are, right?"

He regularly visits a psychologist to honestly analyze the root causes of his relationship problems with Zhao Ling'er and to confront his past chaotic emotional patterns.

This process was painful, often causing him to suffer from insomnia at night, but he did not give up.

He stopped texting Song Qingyun every day and started sending her a short email every week. The content was unrelated to romance; sometimes he would share an art review he found interesting, sometimes he would talk about the story of an artisan in one of his investment projects, and occasionally he would attach a "funeral photo" of a plant he had died, making a self-deprecating joke. Restrained, yet warm; maintaining distance, yet never forgetting his presence.

Zhao Ling'er's transformation is equally remarkable. She has streamlined the Liu Qinghua Foundation's operational model to make it more standardized and transparent, while she herself has taken on the role of strategic advisor, devoting most of her time to learning and traveling.

She spent some time in Europe, visiting various museums and concert halls, not to appear cultured, but to truly immerse herself in the experience.

She even enrolled in a short classical music appreciation course in Vienna. Although she couldn't speak the language and relied entirely on a translator, she listened attentively.

After returning to China, she became low-key and fulfilled. She began practicing calligraphy, starting with the most basic strokes.

She picked up photography again, a hobby she had enjoyed in her youth, but now her lens was no longer focused on lavish banquets, but rather on the everyday life of ordinary people and the interplay of natural light and shadow.

She would occasionally call Ye Yuze to chat about her experiences and insights, her tone calm and even somewhat open-minded.

On one occasion, she actually said to Ye Yuze on the phone: "Yuze, I recently read some biographies of female artists from the Renaissance period, and I suddenly felt that what a woman should be remembered for in her life should not just be 'XX's wife' or 'XX's mother.' I think I've been living a narrow life before."

Ye Yuze responded with relief: "The fact that you think this way shows that this trip wasn't in vain. Ling'er, you shouldn't just be anyone's appendage in the first place."

Regarding the divorce agreement, she and Yang Geyong have reached a basic consensus through their lawyers, with a clear and fair division of property; only the final signature is needed.

But neither of them was in a hurry, seemingly waiting for a more suitable time, or rather, waiting for true inner peace.

Song Qingyun's life seemed to have returned to its original track. The Silk Road Ancient Music project was progressing smoothly, the small concert won high recognition in the industry, and subsequent research funding was arriving one after another, including the one provided by Zhao Ling'er through anonymous channels.

She knew perfectly well what was going on, but didn't say anything; instead, she focused even more intently on her work. She began compiling some of her research findings into a monograph, a huge undertaking that often kept her working late into the night.

She reads Yang Geyong's emails every week. At first, she does it cautiously, but it gradually becomes a habit.

The emails weren't oppressive; instead, they were like a small window, allowing her to glimpse the once reckless man slowly and earnestly changing his course in another world.

Seeing him plant dead plants and then make fun of himself, she couldn't help but shake her head slightly, but a very faint smile appeared on her lips;

She would ponder the respect in his eyes when he described an old craftsman who upheld ancient methods. She never replied, but she didn't delete a single one of those emails. (End of Chapter)