Great Power Reclamation

Beneath the calm surface, subtle ripples remained. The Beijing art scene, though not large, still harbored lingering whispers about the controversy surrounding her, Yang Geyong, and Zhao Ling'er.

During a tea break at an industry seminar, she overheard two middle-aged female scholars, whom she didn't know very well, talking quietly in a corner:
"...Is it her? She seems quite aloof, but she's quite capable. She managed to bewitch a seasoned veteran like Yang Geyong to the point of divorce..."

"Shh, keep your voice down! I heard Zhao Ling'er has already bowed her head and apologized, and Ye Yuze is protecting her too. She has powerful connections..."

"So what? She still climbed the social ladder by relying on men, didn't she? Her project made money so easily..."

The sharp words pierced her like needles. Song Qingyun's body stiffened slightly, and her fingers holding the teacup turned white.

She could ignore the rumors, but direct malicious speculation still stung. Just as she was about to turn and leave, a gentle yet firm voice broke in:

"Professor Zhang, Director Li, what are you talking about that makes such a commotion?"

He was the head of the seminar's organizers, a highly respected elder in the industry with a long-standing relationship with Ye Yuze. He walked over with a smile, seemingly oblivious to what had just been said, but conveniently positioned himself between Song Qingyun and the two people.

"Oh, it's nothing, just chatting." The two female scholars seemed a little embarrassed.

"Professor Song's research is solid and profound. His new insights into the restoration of Tang Dynasty music at this conference were even praised by Professor X of Beijing (a national treasure-level scholar), who said that the younger generation is truly formidable."

The old gentleman's smile remained unchanged, and his voice was clear, "We researchers should focus more on the scholarship itself, don't you two agree?"

The two men's expressions changed slightly, and they quickly agreed before awkwardly walking away.

The old gentleman then turned to Song Qingyun, his eyes gentle:
"Qingyun, don't take it to heart. The tallest tree in the forest is the first to be felled by the wind. As long as you continue to produce solid results, these idle rumors will naturally disappear. If you encounter any difficulties, feel free to tell me."

"Thank you, Professor Liu," Song Qingyun said sincerely. She knew that Ye Yuze or Yang Geyong might have silently supported her behind the scenes, but the professor's protection itself was an affirmation of her academic value. This was more comforting and empowering than any form of financial protection.

She didn't tell anyone about this, but it only strengthened her resolve to do good research.

But in the quiet of the night, there is sometimes a sense of weariness and confusion—would choosing an "easier" path mean avoiding these unwarranted acts of malice?

But the thought always flashed through her mind only briefly, and she quickly suppressed it. Her pride and passion wouldn't allow her to back down.

Ye Yuze's life remained as "leisurely" as ever. He spent his days reading, enjoying tea, tending to his flowers and plants, and occasionally playing a game of chess with old friends.

He had witnessed the changes in Yang Geyong and Zhao Ling'er, and felt relieved. He also knew a little about the subtle ripples on Song Qingyun's side through his own channels, but he did not interfere.

He believed that the resilient girl could handle it, and that a relationship that had been tested would be even stronger (if it ultimately succeeded).

However, the tree may wish to remain still, but the wind will not cease. One early summer evening, Ye Yuze was enjoying the cool shade under the grape trellis when Yang Geyong burst in, his face no longer composed as before, but carrying a hint of barely suppressed anger and... embarrassment.

"Old Ye! Something's happened!" Yang Geyong plopped down on the stone bench, grabbed Ye Yuze's teacup, and gulped down a large mouthful, not caring whether it was top-grade Da Hong Pao or not.

"What's wrong now? Did the flowers you plant die again?" Ye Yuze didn't even lift his eyelids.

"no!"

Yang Geyong slammed his phone down on the stone table. The screen lit up, displaying a sensational, bold headline for an entertainment gossip news article:

Shocking! Former playboy tycoon falls for artsy goddess? Secret meeting photos exposed, suspected to be the trigger for divorce!

The accompanying picture is a bit blurry, but you can recognize Yang Geyong and Song Qingyun—it's the picture that was secretly taken downstairs when Yang Geyong left her studio early in the morning after Song Qingyun was sick last time.

The angle was tricky, making the two appear very close. Song Qingyun was sick at the time, and the way she was being supported by Yang Geyong looked particularly ambiguous on camera.

The article is extremely sensational, portraying Yang Geyong as a scumbag who abandoned his first wife to pursue a new love, and depicting Song Qingyun as a scheming woman who used academics to climb the social ladder and destroy other people's families. It also brought up the previous rumors of Zhao Ling'er suppressing Song Qingyun, writing it as "the first wife's counterattack failed."

"Who the hell did this?! I'll skin him alive!" Yang Ge's forehead veins throbbed with courage. "What if Qingyun sees this? She finally has some peace and quiet!"

Ye Yuze picked up his phone and looked at it, his brows furrowing slightly.

This kind of underhanded gossip is unlike what Zhao Ling'er would do now, nor does it seem like a legitimate competitor in the business world.

It seems more like some self-media outlets that have no bottom line when it comes to traffic, or... someone wants to take this opportunity to stir up trouble and put Yang Geyong in a bad light?

"Find out who leaked the information." Ye Yuze's tone was calm, but tinged with coldness.

"Prepare a lawyer's letter and pursue this to the end. Contact several mainstream media outlets and platforms to delete what needs to be deleted and clarify what needs to be clarified. Focus on protecting Song Qingyun and prevent reporters from harassing her."

"I've already sent someone to take care of it!" Yang Geyong said urgently, "But this stuff spreads fast, and Qingyun..."

"Going to her now will only make things worse for her," Ye Yuze interrupted him. "I believe she can handle it. You should also think about it: you are now Yang Geyong, who is 'cultivating independently.' What else can you do in this situation besides getting angry and using money to pressure her?"

Yang Geyong was taken aback.

Ye Yuze continued, "Rumors are like knives; it's better to guide them than to block them. The more nervous you are, the more guilty you'll appear. You never intended to keep your divorce from Zhao Ling'er a secret forever."

Song Qingyun's research achievements and character are well-known within the industry. Rather than passively denying the rumors, it's better to... take this opportunity to bring some things into the open.

Yang Geyong seemed to be thinking: "You mean..."

"Now that your divorce agreement with Ling'er is almost finalized, you can choose a suitable time to jointly issue a brief statement. The statement should be in a calm tone, explaining that it is the result of careful consideration and rational negotiation between both parties, that you part amicably, and that you will each live your own lives and remain family and friends. Do not mention anything else, especially Song Qingyun."

Ye Yuze advised, "At the same time, by supporting several significant national-level cultural projects or public welfare projects related to the field of Song Qingyun studies in a high-profile but appropriate manner, either in your own name or in the name of your foundation, you demonstrate that your focus is on the cultural cause itself. As for your relationship with Song Qingyun, neither admit nor deny it, and do not respond; let time prove it."

"What about Qingyun's side..."

"Tell her the proposed solution and ask for her opinion. Respect her choice."

Ye Yuze looked at Yang Geyong and said, "Remember, what you need to do now is not to rush to the front and block all the bullets for her, but to learn how to stand shoulder to shoulder with her, or at least, not to become part of the bullets aimed at her. That is the real 'standing up'."

Yang Geyong remained silent for a long time, the anger in his eyes gradually replaced by a deeper contemplation. He nodded:

"I understand, Lao Ye. I'll take care of it right away."

Watching Yang Geyong's hurried departure, Ye Yuze gently shook his head. Indeed, the path of cultivation is fraught with challenges.

This sudden gossip storm is a test for Yang Geyong, a trial for Song Qingyun, and perhaps also an opportunity to further clarify certain relationships.

He looked up at the twilight sky, the sunset ablaze with color. Peaceful days are good, but some growth truly requires weathering storms. He just hoped that this small storm wouldn't capsize that tiny boat that had just set sail, so cautiously.

Summer thunderstorms come and go quickly, just like this sudden gossip storm.

Under Ye Yuze's guidance, Yang Geyong handled the incident with unexpected composure.

Instead of going to great lengths to trace the source—which turned out to be just some self-media studio trying to gain traffic—he followed Ye Yuze's advice and, after discussing with Zhao Ling'er, jointly released a brief statement.

The statement was calmly worded, stating that after long and careful consideration, the two decided to end their marriage as a result of rational negotiation. They will remain family and friends, co-parent their children, and continue to collaborate professionally. It made no mention of Song Qingyun or any other romantic entanglements.

At the same time, Yang Geyong, in the name of his personal foundation, donated a huge sum of money to the National Cultural Heritage Protection Fund, specifically for the compilation and research of Silk Road music documents.

The donation ceremony was low-key and solemn. Several academic luminaries who were invited to attend all spoke highly of the preliminary work done by Song Qingyun's team.

This series of combined measures subtly shifted public opinion. The gossipy article, based on unsubstantiated rumors, was quickly deleted by the platform and replaced with positive reports about Yang Geyong's transition to cultural work and support for academic research.

Those in the industry understand that this is someone trying to vindicate Song Qingyun, and it's also Yang Geyong stating his position: he is concerned with cultural heritage itself, not any personal relationships.

When Song Qingyun saw the joint statement and the donation news, she was organizing her manuscript in her studio.

She sat quietly in front of the computer, read the news several times, then closed the page and continued working. Only her fingertips lingered on the keyboard longer than usual.

That evening, she sent Yang Geyong a message for the first time, containing only two words: "Thank you."

When Yang Geyong received the message, he was in his courtyard in Xishan, worrying about a few half-dead orchids. Seeing those two words, he stared at his phone screen for a long time before replying, "Of course. How are you?"

"It's alright. I can focus on writing the book."

"That's good. Take care and get some rest."

After a brief exchange, there was another period of silence.

But some things are no longer the same.

Life went on. Yang Geyong's "cultivation" was gradually improving. He began to be able to cook a few decent home-style dishes, and the plants in the yard were no longer completely wiped out.

Several of the cultural projects he invested in began to produce valuable results, and even gained recognition from the relevant authorities.

His divorce proceedings with Zhao Ling'er were officially completed in the fall. There were no arguments, no dramatic division of property, and the two said goodbye calmly at the entrance of the Civil Affairs Bureau. Zhao Ling'er even patted him on the shoulder and said, "Take care of yourself."

The counseling sessions with the therapist continued, but at a lower frequency. Yang Geyong began to be able to clearly analyze his emotional patterns, understand the problems in his relationship with Zhao Ling'er, and also grasp the complex nature of his feelings for Song Qingyun.

It was not just a yearning for beautiful things, but also a reflection on and escape from the chaotic state of the first half of my life.

Song Qingyun's monograph was finally completed at the end of the year and submitted to the publisher. Having accomplished this significant task, she felt a long-lost sense of relief, but also a touch of emptiness. She began to re-examine her life—besides research and teaching, what else was there?
One winter weekend, she went to a guqin concert by herself.

As the performance ended, she saw a familiar figure at the theater entrance. Yang Geyong, wearing a dark gray overcoat, stood under a streetlamp, seemingly waiting for someone.

Their eyes met, and both were startled.

"What a coincidence," Yang Geyong said first, a gentle smile on his lips.

“Yes, I’m here to listen to a concert.” Song Qingyun nodded.

"Me too. Just finished watching the show."

After a brief silence, Yang Geyong asked softly, "Want to grab a late-night snack? There's that porridge shop up ahead, it's very clean."

Song Qingyun looked at him. The light from the streetlamp cast a soft shadow on his face, and the face that used to always carry an arrogant or impatient expression now appeared peaceful and calm.

She thought of the changes he had undergone over the past year, how he had handled the turmoil, and the weekly emails that never crossed the line but were always there.

"Okay," she heard herself say.

The congee shop was small, but warm. The two sat facing each other, each ordering a bowl of hot congee and a few side dishes. There was no awkwardness, no forced conversation; they chatted naturally like two long-lost friends, talking about the concert they had just attended, the recent weather, and other trivial everyday matters.

"Your book is about to be published, right?" Yang Geyong asked.

"Yes, next month."

"Congratulations. Send me a copy later, I'll study hard."

Song Qingyun looked up at him: "You really understand it?"

“If you don’t understand, you can learn,” Yang Geyong laughed, a self-deprecating smile on his face. “Anyway, I have plenty of time now.” After finishing the porridge, Yang Geyong got up to pay the bill, without any arguing, naturally treating everyone. Stepping out of the porridge shop, a cold wind hit their faces, and Song Qingyun subconsciously shrank her neck.

"Shall I take you back?" Yang Geyong asked.

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

"Then I'll wait for the bus with you."

The two stood by the roadside, their breath rising in the cold night air. Cars streamed by, neon lights flashed, and the city's winter night possessed a quietude amidst the hustle and bustle.

“Qingyun,” Yang Geyong suddenly spoke, his voice exceptionally clear in the cold night, “I’ve been thinking a lot lately.”

Song Qingyun turned her head to look at him, waiting for him to continue.

“I used to think that life is about enjoying it to the fullest, that you should fight for what you want, grab what you want, and get it. I thought that was freedom, that was happiness,” he said slowly, gazing at the car lights in the distance.

"But now I understand that true freedom is not about doing whatever you want, but about not having to do what you don't want to do. True happiness is not about how much you gain, but how much you let go."

"My experience with Ling'er made me realize how awful I had been, and I also understood that marriage is not just about passion, but more about responsibility and companionship. We couldn't continue because we both forgot how to respect each other and how to communicate properly. I will remember this lesson for the rest of my life."

He turned his head and looked into Song Qingyun's eyes, his gaze honest: "At first, I admired you, I longed for you, and I felt that you had a purity and innocence that I lacked. Later, I felt guilty and wanted to protect you, feeling that you had suffered because of me. And then... I truly liked you. I liked your persistence, your clarity, and your pride."

“But now I know,” he said calmly, yet each word was clear, “that liking someone isn’t about possession, it’s not about having to get them. Liking someone can also be about respect, about letting them go, about wanting them to be well, even if that ‘good’ doesn’t include me.”

Song Qingyun listened quietly, her heartbeat gradually quickening in the cold night.

"So, Qingyun, what I want to tell you today is," Yang Geyong took a deep breath.

"I'm no longer in a hurry for an answer, nor will I try to 'be good to you' in my own way. I'll just stand here, appearing when you need me and disappearing when you don't."

"You can continue your life, do what you want to do, and love whoever you want to love. As for me, I will continue my spiritual practice until one day I am truly worthy to stand by your side—if you are still willing to give me a chance then."

"If you have a better option by then, then I sincerely wish you all the best."

He smiled, a smile of relief in it, "Because for me, being able to know you, and being able to become a better person because of you, is already the greatest luck of my life."

After he finished speaking, all that remained between them was the cold winter wind and the faint sound of a car in the distance.

Song Qingyun looked at him, at this man who had once recklessly barged into her life, now standing in the cold night, speaking the most profound words in the calmest tone. His change was real, his growth was real, and the honesty and relief in his eyes at this moment were also real.

At this moment, the solid defense in my heart finally cracked.

She wasn't moved by his sacrifices, nor did she feel guilty about his changes. Rather, she saw a man who was truly growing, a man willing to restrain himself, wait, and change for love. Such a person deserves to be treated seriously.

"The car is here," she said softly, pointing to the taxi approaching in the distance.

Yang Geyong nodded and opened the car door for her.

Before getting into the car, Song Qingyun turned to look at him: "Yang Geyong."

"Ok?"

“I’ll send you a copy after the book is published. Also,” she paused, “I have a small presentation about the results next week, and if you’re free… you can come and see.”

Yang Geyong's eyes lit up instantly, like stars suddenly illuminating the night sky: "I will definitely be there!"

As the taxi drove away, Yang Geyong stood by the roadside, watching the taillights disappear around the corner, a genuine and radiant smile spreading across his face—the smile he hadn't shown in over a year.

The sharing session was held a week later. It was a small event, but those who attended were true kindred spirits. Song Qingyun, dressed in a simple and elegant cheongsam, calmly presented her research findings on stage, displayed the restored ancient musical scores, and occasionally demonstrated a few musical phrases herself. Under the lights, she exuded confidence, focus, and a restrained yet undeniable radiance.

Yang Geyong sat in the last row, listening quietly and watching her. He still couldn't understand the professional music theory, but he could feel the passion in her words and see the light shining in her eyes.

At that moment, he was absolutely certain that this was the beauty he longed for—not for possession, but for witnessing and for companionship.

After the sharing session ended, everyone dispersed. Song Qingyun was tidying up her belongings backstage, and Yang Geyong didn't approach her, simply standing at a distance.

After she finished packing and walked out of the venue, she found that Yang Geyong was still waiting at the door.

"You haven't left yet?" she asked.

"I'll wait for you." He naturally took the folder from her hand. "Shall I take you home?"

This time, Song Qingyun did not refuse.

The car was nicely heated, and neither of them spoke; only soft music filled the car. When they arrived at the studio building, Song Qingyun got out of the car, and Yang Geyong handed her the folder of documents.

"Thank you for coming today," Song Qingyun said.

"I should thank you for inviting me," Yang Geyong said with a smile. "Today was wonderful. Although I couldn't understand what you were saying, I could feel...it was beautiful."

Song Qingyun looked at him and suddenly asked, "Have you had dinner?"

"not yet."

"I still have some ingredients in my fridge. If you don't mind... come up and have something simple to eat?"

Yang Geyong was stunned, then his eyes lit up with surprise: "I don't mind! Of course I don't mind!"

Dinner was simple: tomato and egg noodles and stir-fried vegetables. The two sat facing each other in the small kitchen of the studio, the atmosphere warm and natural. After dinner, Yang Geyong offered to wash the dishes, while Song Qingyun wiped them down.

Everything was packed up, and it was late at night. Yang Geyong checked the time: "I should go."

"Okay." Song Qingyun saw him to the door.

The two stood facing each other by the door, very close. They could hear each other's breathing and smell each other's faint scent.

“Qingyun,” Yang Geyong said softly, “I am very happy today.”

“Me too,” Song Qingyun replied softly.

Then, she did something that Yang Geyong didn't expect—she took a step forward and gently hugged him.

The embrace was light and brief, yet it sent a jolt through Yang Geyong's body like an electric current. He stood there stiffly, unsure of what to do with his hands.

"Thank you," Song Qingyun whispered in his ear, "Thank you for your change, thank you for waiting, thank you... for showing me another possible form of love."

After saying that, she let go of his hand, took a step back, and a faint blush appeared on her face: "Be careful on the road."

Yang Geyong stared at her blankly for a long time before finding his voice: "...Okay. Good night."

Stepping out of the building, the cold winter wind hit him in the face, yet Yang Geyong felt a warmth spread through his body. He looked up at the studio window; the light was still on. He stood downstairs for a long, long time before turning and leaving.

That night, both of them suffered from insomnia.

The days that followed seemed to be fast-forwarded. Yang Geyong remained restrained and respectful, but their contact increased noticeably.

Sometimes they would go to concerts together, sometimes Song Qingyun would teach him some simple music theory, and sometimes they would just quietly read books on their own.

When spring came again, Yang Geyong finally managed to keep the flowers in his courtyard in Xishan alive, and they bloomed their first flower. He excitedly took a picture and sent it to Song Qingyun, inviting her to come and see them.

It was the first weekend of April, the sun was shining brightly, and the flowers in the yard were all in bloom. Song Qingyun came at the invitation of Yang Geyong, who personally cooked a meal that wasn't fancy but was prepared with great care.

After dinner, the two drank tea in the courtyard. The spring breeze was gentle, and the fragrance of flowers filled the air.

“Qingyun,” Yang Geyong put down his teacup and looked at her, “I think… I’m ready.”

Song Qingyun looked up at him: "What have you prepared?"

"Get ready, I'm going to pursue you seriously." Yang Geyong's eyes were earnest. "Not with money, not with force, but with a whole, clear-headed heart that understands respect and patience. Are you... willing to give me this chance?"

Song Qingyun didn't answer immediately. She looked at the man before her, watching him transform from reckless to composed, from impatient to patient, from possessive to selfless. She had witnessed his transformation firsthand.

And her own heart was also changing without her realizing it. From resistance to acceptance, from wariness to trust, from being moved to... being moved.

“Yang Geyong,” she said softly, “do you know how difficult this road is?”

"know."

Do you know how much criticism you'll face?

"know."

Do you know I may never be as passionate as you expect?

“I don’t expect you to become anything,” Yang Geyong shook his head. “I love you as you are now, clear-headed, proud, and focused.”

Song Qingyun remained silent for a long time, and then she made a decision.

She stood up and walked to Yang Geyong. To Yang Geyong's surprise, she reached out and gently touched his face.

“Alright,” she said, her eyes shining with determination, “let’s give it a try.”

As soon as she finished speaking, she leaned down and kissed his lips.

It was a gentle kiss, yet it ignited a long-suppressed flame. Yang Geyong froze at first, then responded passionately.

He pulled her into his arms and kissed her deeply and intently, as if he wanted to pour all the waiting, restraint, and longing of the past year into this kiss.

A spring breeze blows, and petals fall. In this courtyard filled with flowers, two people who have each undergone their own spiritual journeys finally come together.

In the distance, in a courtyard house, Ye Yuze received a phone call from Yang Geyong, who was rambling and extremely excited, bringing him good news. Hearing the almost tearful voice on the other end of the line, a relieved smile appeared on his lips.

"Treat her well." That was all he said.

After hanging up the phone, Ye Yuze walked into the courtyard, looked at the vibrant spring scenery, and sighed softly. The ways of fate in this world are truly wondrous.

How many storms must one weather, how many detours must one take, before meeting the right person at the right time, in the right way?

Fortunately, they didn't miss it in the end.

Their story has only just begun. (End of Chapter)