Great Power Reclamation

Chapter 3020 Yang Geyong's Sudden Enlightenment
Autumn comes exceptionally early to the courtyard house. After a few autumn rains, the pomegranate leaves in the courtyard begin to turn yellow, while the old persimmon tree is laden with orange-red fruit, its branches bending under the weight.

Yang Geyong sat in a rattan chair on the veranda, a thin blanket covering his legs. He was seventy-three years old, and although he was still quite spry, his body, which had been overworked in his youth, was finally beginning to give him warnings—his knees were starting to hurt.

Ye Yuze sat opposite him, and on the small table between them was a pot of Pu'er tea and two white porcelain cups.

"Old Ye, what do you think is the point of a person's life?" Yang Geyong asked suddenly, looking at the fallen leaves in the yard.

Ye Yuze slowly poured himself a cup of tea: "Why are you suddenly asking this?"

"I just feel like... I've figured out what life is all about, and I'm almost at the end of my life."

Yang Geyong smiled, a hint of self-mockery in his smile. "When I was young, I thought that having money, power, and women meant success. Looking back now, it's fucking ridiculous."

Ye Yuze remained silent, waiting for him to continue.

How many women have I been with in my life?

Yang Geyong seemed to be asking Ye Yuze, or perhaps himself, "I can't even count them all. Domestic ones, foreign ones, white ones, black ones, yellow ones... Back then, I thought that being able to sleep with all the beauties in the world was a real skill."

He paused, his eyes somewhat dazed: "My six sons in Africa were born to different women. Back then in Africa, I would sleep with black girls because they were attractive and novel."

They gave me some money after I had the baby, and then acted like nothing happened. Looking back now, they were such bastards.

Ye Yuze sighed softly. He knew Yang Geyong was telling the truth. In his youth, Yang Geyong was purely driven by lust; he had only desire for women, no respect, and certainly no love.

“But Lao Ye, do you know?” Yang Geyong turned to look at Ye Yuze, “Out of so many women, I’ve only truly loved two: Ling’er and Qingyun.”

“Ling’er is my lawfully wedded wife, and she was there for me through the hardest times. But I didn’t appreciate it back then. I always felt she was controlling me too much, and I always wanted to find freedom outside. It wasn’t until after the divorce and she got sick that I realized that it wasn’t control, it was love and responsibility.”

“Qingyun…” Yang Geyong’s voice lowered when he mentioned this name. “Qingyun is the one who taught me what love is. She made me understand that loving someone is not about wanting to sleep with her, but about wanting to protect her, wanting to see her smile, and wanting her to be happy. Even if… even if we can’t be together.”

A breeze blew through the yard, swirling up a few fallen leaves.

“But Lao Ye, isn’t it ironic?” Yang Geyong smiled bitterly. “I’ve slept with so many women and had so many children, but I didn’t understand what love was until I was almost in my grave. And of the women I truly loved, one was broken by me, and the other was lost to me.”

Ye Yuze finally spoke: "It's not too late to understand now."

"It's too late." Yang Geyong shook his head. "Ling'er treats me like an old friend now, polite but distant. Qingyun... I'll never see her again."

How do you know we won't see him?

“It’s been so long, and there hasn’t been a single word.” Yang Geyong’s voice was full of bitterness. “I know she has truly let go. For someone like her, once she says she’s letting go, it’s for a lifetime.”

Ye Yuze was silent for a while, then suddenly said, "Ge Yong, have you ever thought about what your greatest fortune in this life is?"

"……what?"

It's not about how much money you've made, how many women you've slept with, or even how much you've understood about love.

Ye Yuze looked at him and said, "You have the opportunity to repent and the possibility to grow. Many people die confused, but at least you have figured things out."

Yang Geyong paused for a moment, then smiled: "Old Ye, you always make such a good point."

“It’s not just a matter of logic, it’s a fact.” Ye Yuze took a sip of tea. “Aren’t your children in Africa all doing well now?”

"Yang Da and Yang San are doing very well in East Africa, becoming Ye Rou and Ye Mei's right-hand men. They don't hate you; on the contrary, they are grateful to you for giving them life and opportunities."

When East African countries were mentioned, Yang Geyong's eyes softened.

That was the foundation he and Ye Yuze laid in Africa when they were young, and it has now developed into a regional power.

Ye Yuze's two daughters, Ye Rou and Ye Mei, became queens, while his two illegitimate sons, Yang Da and Yang San, became the most important regents.

He visited East Africa once last year. Yang Da and Yang San are both mature and steady politicians. They have no resentment towards their irresponsible father, only respect.

They said that their father gave them the opportunity to come into this world, and that Uncle Ye nurtured their abilities.

At that moment, Yang Geyong was so ashamed that he wanted to disappear.

“Old Ye, sometimes I really admire you,” Yang Geyong said. “You’ve had many women, Yu’e, and those confidantes. But you’ve never made any woman hate you, nor have you made any child suffer. How did you do it?”

Ye Yuze smiled faintly: "It's very simple. I respect every woman I've ever been with, and I treat every one of my children well. Desire is not shameful; what is shameful is having desire but no responsibility."

“Yes, responsibility…” Yang Geyong murmured, “This is what I’ve been lacking in my life.”

The two drank tea in silence. The autumn sunlight filtered through the sparse leaves, casting dappled shadows on the blue brick floor.

"Old Ye, do you think Qingyun is doing well now?" Yang Geyong suddenly asked.

“She should be doing very well,” Ye Yuze said. “She’s already a professor at that university in the south, and she’s supervising several doctoral students. Last year, she even gave a keynote speech at an international academic conference, and she’s highly respected.”

"That's good." Yang Geyong nodded, his eyes a little moist. "Someone like her should shine in the world of academia. She shouldn't... she shouldn't be held back by someone like me."

Ye Yuze looked at him and suddenly asked, "Do you want to see her?"

Yang Geyong looked up sharply: "What?"

“There’s a cultural forum in Hangzhou next month, and Qingyun is a special guest. I’ve also received an invitation,” Ye Yuze said calmly. “If you want to go, I can take you.”

"I..." Yang Geyong opened his mouth, but didn't know what to say.

Do you want to see her? Of course I do. For over a year, he has dreamed of her countless times—of her playing the piano, of her smiling, of her saying "take care."

But what good would seeing them do? Apologize? Repent? Or just beg for forgiveness?

"Forget it." In the end, Yang Geyong shook his head. "Let's not see her. Seeing her will only remind her of unpleasant things. Let her... live her own life."

Ye Yuze looked at him for a long time, then nodded: "Alright."

But fate always likes to play tricks.

A month later, Ye Yuze went to Hangzhou to attend a cultural forum. Yang Geyong hadn't planned to go, but Ye Yuze said something before leaving:
"There will be a special performance of ancient music on the last day of the forum, performed by the Qingyun Society."

That one sentence changed Yang Geyong's mind.

He secretly bought a plane ticket, secretly went to Hangzhou, and secretly checked into a hotel near the forum venue. He didn't tell Ye Yuze, nor did he tell anyone else.

On the last day of the forum, a special performance of ancient music was held in a small theater by West Lake. Yang Geyong bought a ticket for the last row, and wearing a hat and mask, he sat in a corner like an ordinary audience member.

The lights dimmed, and the performance began.

The preceding performances were all excellent, but Yang Geyong was distracted. His eyes were fixed on the waiting area on the side of the stage, waiting for that familiar figure.

Finally, the announcer said, "Next, please enjoy the guzheng solo 'High Mountains and Flowing Water,' performed by Professor Song Qingyun."

Amid applause, Song Qingyun walked onto the stage.

More than a year had passed, and she seemed unchanged. She was still as slender as ever, wearing a simple dark blue cheongsam, her hair tied up in a bun at the back of her head. She bowed slightly to the audience, then walked to the zither and sat down.

The light shone on her, making her look like a tranquil landscape painting.

She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, then raised her hand and plucked the strings.

As soon as the first note sounded, tears welled up in Yang Geyong's eyes.

It's still that song, "High Mountains and Flowing Water," with the same fingering and the same charm.

But Yang Geyong heard a difference—three years ago, when she played this piece, there was a faint sadness; but now, there was only tranquility and composure in the music.

She let it go. She really let it go.

As the music ended, thunderous applause erupted. Song Qingyun rose, bowed, and prepared to leave the stage.

Just then, an accident happened.

A staff member rushed onto the stage and whispered something in her ear. Song Qingyun's expression changed instantly. She apologized to the audience and quickly walked backstage.

Yang Geyong's heart skipped a beat. He stood up, wanting to go and see, but then felt he wasn't qualified.

As he hesitated, he saw Ye Yuze also get up from the VIP seats and walk backstage.

A few minutes later, Ye Yuze emerged, his expression grave. Yang Geyong quickly went to greet him. Upon seeing him, Ye Yuze paused for a moment, then walked over and whispered:
"Qingyun's mother suffered a sudden heart attack and was taken to the hospital. She has to rush back now."

"Where?" Yang Geyong asked urgently.

Suzhou, her hometown.

Without a second thought, Yang Geyong said, "I'll take her there."

"you?"

“I have a car, and I can drive fast.” Yang Geyong had already walked out. “Old Ye, can you help me contact a hospital in Suzhou and see which one is the best? I’ll take her there directly.”

Ye Yuze watched his anxious back and suddenly smiled. This old brother was still the same loyal and righteous Yang Geyong.

Outside the theater, Song Qingyun was anxiously waiting for a taxi. When she saw Yang Geyong, she froze.

"Get in the car." Yang Geyong had already started the car. "I'll give you a ride."

"How did you..."

"Don't ask anymore, get in the car."

Song Qingyun hesitated for a second, then opened the car door and got in.

The car entered the highway and sped towards Suzhou. The car was quiet, with only the sound of the navigation system.

"Thank you," Song Qingyun said softly after a long silence.

"You're welcome." Yang Geyong stared intently ahead. "How is your mother...?"

"I don't know yet." Song Qingyun's voice trembled slightly. "My neighbor called and said she suddenly fainted and they've already called an ambulance."

"Don't worry, everything will be alright," Yang Geyong reassured him. "I've asked Lao Ye to contact the best hospital in Suzhou, we'll go there directly."

Song Qingyun turned her head and looked at his profile. Three years had passed, and he had aged; his hair was completely white, and the wrinkles on his face were much deeper. But his eyes remained as firm as ever.

"How come you're in Hangzhou?" she asked.

"I came to a concert," Yang Geyong said honestly. "Old Ye said you could play, so I came." "...Why?"

"I wanted to see how you were doing." Yang Geyong paused. "Now that I see you're doing well, I'm relieved."

Song Qingyun fell silent. She watched the scenery rushing past the window, a complex mix of emotions welling up inside her.

After so much time, she thought she had completely let go. But the moment she saw him, her heart skipped a beat.

"How have you been these days?" she asked softly.

"It's alright." Yang Geyong smiled. "I grow some flowers, read some books, and occasionally visit the children. It's simple, but reassuring."

"That's good."

There was another moment of silence.

“Qingyun,” Yang Geyong suddenly said, “I’m sorry.”

Song Qingyun remained silent.

“I know an apology is useless, but I still have to say it.” Yang Geyong’s voice was very soft. “I’m sorry for hurting you. I’m sorry for betraying your trust. I’m sorry… for not being able to love you at the right time and in the right way.”

Song Qingyun's tears fell. She turned her face away and looked out the window.

“It’s all in the past,” she said.

“Yes, it’s all in the past.” Yang Geyong nodded. “So don’t worry, I took you to the hospital today for no other reason than… just as an old friend, I wanted to help you. That’s all.”

These words were spoken frankly, which relieved Song Qingyun.

"Thank you," she said again.

"You're welcome, really." Yang Geyong smiled. "I'm glad I could help you."

An hour and a half later, they arrived in Suzhou. Under Ye Yuze's arrangement, they went directly to the best hospital.

Song Qingyun's mother has been taken into the operating room. The doctor said it was an acute myocardial infarction and she is undergoing interventional surgery.

Outside the operating room, Song Qingyun waited anxiously. Yang Geyong stayed by her side, silent.

Three hours later, the operating room door opened. The doctor came out and said the surgery was successful and the patient was out of danger, but would need to be observed in the ICU for a few days.

Song Qingyun breathed a long sigh of relief, her legs went weak, and she almost fell. Yang Geyong supported her, saying, "It's alright, it's alright."

Song Qingyun leaned on his shoulder and cried silently. This was the first time in three years that she had shown vulnerability in front of him.

Yang Geyong gently patted her back, like coaxing a child: "Cry, it'll be alright if you cry it out."

After Song Qingyun calmed down, Yang Geyong said, "Go and see your mother. I'll wait here."

"You've had a long day, go back," Song Qingyun said. "I'll stay here and keep watch."

“I’m not tired.” Yang Geyong shook his head. “I’ll wait until your mother is moved to a regular ward before I leave. Otherwise, I’m worried about you being alone.”

Song Qingyun looked at him and suddenly asked, "Why are you so good to me?"

Yang Geyong paused for a moment, then smiled: "Because you are Qingyun."

Just that simple sentence brought tears to Song Qingyun's eyes again.

For the next three days, Yang Geyong stayed with Song Qingyun at the hospital. He helped her arrange a ward, contacted a caregiver, bought daily necessities, and handled various miscellaneous tasks. He did everything naturally and thoughtfully, without overstepping his bounds in the slightest.

On the third day, Song Qingyun's mother was transferred to a regular ward. When the old lady woke up and saw Yang Geyong, she looked somewhat puzzled.

"Mom, this is Mr. Yang, my friend," Song Qingyun introduced. "I'm very grateful for his help these past few days."

The old lady sized up Yang Geyong, her eyes sharp: "What does Mr. Yang do?"

"I used to run a small business, but I'm basically retired now," Yang Geyong replied respectfully.

"Married?"

"We're divorced."

"do you have any kid?"

"Yes, they're all overseas."

The old lady asked directly, and Yang Geyong answered frankly. Finally, the old lady nodded: "Thank you for taking care of Qingyun."

"Of course," Yang Geyong said.

That night, Song Qingyun escorted Yang Geyong to the hospital entrance.

"I'm going back to Junken City tomorrow," Yang Geyong said. "If your mother needs anything, just call me anytime."

"Thank you." Song Qingyun looked at him. "Really, thank you so much."

"I told you there's no need to thank me." Yang Geyong smiled. "Seeing that you and your mother are both well, I'm relieved."

He turned to leave, but Song Qingyun suddenly called out to him: "Yang Geyong."

"Ok?"

"are we still friends?"

Yang Geyong paused for a moment, then nodded: "Of course. Always."

Song Qingyun smiled; it was the most genuine smile Yang Geyong had seen in three years.

"Let's keep in touch from now on."

"it is good."

Yang Geyong is gone. Song Qingyun stood at the hospital entrance, watching his car disappear into the night, a long-lost warmth welling up in her heart.

Back in the military reclamation town, Yang Geyong's life returned to normal. He and Song Qingyun began to contact each other occasionally, sometimes via text message, sometimes by phone. They talked about everyday things: the weather, work, health. Like old friends, it was natural and comfortable.

Autumn has passed, and winter has arrived. The first snow fell in Junken City.

Yang Geyong was sitting on the porch watching the snow when his phone rang. It was Song Qingyun.

"Is it snowing in northern Xinjiang?" Her voice came from the other end of the phone.

"It's down, and it's a huge area," Yang Geyong said. "What about Suzhou?"

“It’s cold, but it hasn’t snowed.” Song Qingyun paused. “My mother has been discharged from the hospital and is recovering very well.”

"That's good."

"Yang Geyong," Song Qingyun suddenly said, "I'm going back to Beijing for the New Year to attend an academic conference. How about... we have a meal together then?"

Yang Geyong's heart skipped a beat: "Okay, of course it's okay."

"Then it's settled."

"That's a deal."

After hanging up the phone, Yang Geyong looked at the snow in the yard and smiled.

At this moment, Ye Yuze came out of the house, saw the smile on his face, and asked, "What's making you so happy?"

“Qingyun is going back to Beijing for the Chinese New Year and invited me to dinner,” Yang Geyong said.

Ye Yuze smiled and said, "That's a good thing."

"Old Ye, what do you think..." Yang Geyong hesitated for a moment, "Is there still a chance for Qingyun and me?"

Ye Yuze looked at him and asked, "What kind of possibility do you want?"

“I…I don’t know.” Yang Geyong shook his head. “I just want to…see her occasionally, to know that she’s doing well, that’s enough.”

"Isn't it good to stay the way it is?" Ye Yuze said. "Being friends, caring for each other, and wishing each other well. Being together doesn't necessarily have to be the best ending."

Yang Geyong thought for a moment and nodded: "You're right."

The snow fell heavier and heavier, turning the yard into a vast expanse of white.

“Old Ye,” Yang Geyong suddenly said, “I’ve had many women in my life. But the only one who truly taught me about love was Qingyun. The only one who truly made me understand responsibility was Ling’er. Now that I think about it, I haven’t lived in vain.”

Ye Yuze sat down next to him: "Yes, I haven't lived in vain."

"It's just a bit of a regret," Yang Geyong sighed. "If only I had understood sooner."

"It's not too late to understand now." Ye Yuze patted his shoulder. "That's life. It's the regrets that make it complete."

The two of them looked at the snow in silence, neither of them saying a word.

Two shallow footprints were left on the snow in the yard, which were quickly covered by fresh snow.

Just like life, some traces will be buried by time, but once they existed, they are eternal.

Yang Geyong finally understood what love was—it wasn't about possession or desire, but about wanting the other person to be happy, even if that person wasn't by his side.

This belated epiphany, though late, has finally arrived.

In life, it's never too late to learn something.

The snow stopped, and sunlight shone through the clouds, illuminating the snow-covered ground and making it sparkle.

Just like some feelings, even if you can't be together, they will always shine brightly in your memory.

This is enough.

coming