Great Power Reclamation

In November, it gets dark earlier and earlier in London.

Ye Guigen discovered that he had developed a habit:
Every time I leave the library, I subconsciously glance at the spot where Miyuki usually sits. If she's there, I feel inexplicably at peace; if she's not, I feel a pang of loss.

But he didn't contact her again.

That unanswered message stood like an invisible line between the two of them.

Raj noticed something was amiss, but said nothing. He would just quietly put an extra piece of meat on his plate when they ate in the cafeteria.

Hans still listens to Ye Yini's songs every day and can already hum along to most of them.

He even created a fan group where he posted Ye Yini's schedule and photos every day. Ye Guigen would sometimes glance at his phone screen and see those enthusiastic comments, finding them both strange and amusing—

Is that girl who shines on stage really the little sister who used to call him "brother" when they were little, with two pigtails?
"Your sister is going to Paris for a concert next month," Hans announced one evening. "I've already bought the tickets."

Ye Guigen looked up: "Where did you get so much money?"

“Saving money and living frugally,” Hans said with a solemn expression. “It’s worth it for art.”

Ye Guigen shook his head and continued writing his paper. Professor Sachs had assigned another paper this week on "Rural Financial Innovation in Developing Countries."

He thought of that village in North Africa, and of Fatima's father—

If microloans are available there, could the villagers buy solar panels themselves without waiting for external investment?

Just then, my phone rang. It was Hassan's video call.

"Ye! Good news!" Hassan grinned from ear to ear on the other end of the screen:
"The salt crystallization problem is solved! Master Li's solution is brilliant! We built a circulating water system, and now we clean it once a day, with losses of less than 5%. The power generation efficiency has been restored to 98%!"

Ye Guigen felt a sense of relief: "That's great. How are the villagers?"

“That little girl Fatima can now conduct basic training independently. Her English is improving rapidly; I suspect she’s secretly learning Mandarin A from Old Wang.”

Hassan laughed, "Old Wang said she's talented and wanted to recommend her to study in Country A. But the village chief couldn't bear to part with her."

Ye Guigen thought for a moment and said, "We can take our time with studying abroad. Let's focus on building a solid foundation first."

After hanging up the phone, he suddenly missed the village deep in the desert. He missed the mud-brick houses, the barefoot children running around, and the silver ornament the village chief had given him.

There was no London's hustle and bustle, no school pressures, no emotional entanglements; only the simplest problems and the most direct solutions.

Perhaps that's why he liked it so much.

On Friday afternoon, Emily organized a small book club to discuss a new book about African development. Ye Guigen went there and found that Meixue was also there.

She sat in the corner, wearing an oversized sweater and holding a hot cocoa. When she saw him, she smiled as if nothing had happened.

Ye Guigen sat down next to her.

The book club discussion was very lively. Emily, as the moderator, kept posing questions.

The atmosphere became much more relaxed after Li Ming left.

The Brazilian girl talked about the slums in São Paulo, saying that the government had built new resettlement housing, but no one wanted to move there because it was too far from their workplaces.

"Therefore, job opportunities are more important than housing," Ye Guigen said.

"Yes! That's exactly right!"

The Brazilian girl's eyes lit up. "You've been to Africa, haven't you seen similar situations?"

Ye Guigen nodded and told Fatima's story. When he got to the part where she said, "With electricity, I can read at night, and I want to be a doctor when I grow up," he felt that Meixue was looking at him.

After the discussion ended, everyone gradually dispersed. Miyuki stayed, and so did Ye Guigen.

Only the two of them remained in the coffee shop.

"How have you been lately?" Miyuki asked first.

"Not bad. How about you?"

"It's alright." She stirred the now-cold cocoa. "That day... I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that."

Ye Guigen shook his head: "No need to apologize."

“I thought about it a lot when I got back.” Miyuki looked down at her cup. “I feel like I was pretty selfish. Knowing you had a girlfriend, I still…”

“Miyuki,” Ye Guigen interrupted her, “this is not your problem.”

Miyuki looked up, her eyes a little red: "Whose problem is that?"

Ye Guigen was silent for a while: "It's my problem. I haven't thought it through."

"Then think it through." Miyuki stood up and picked up her bag. "No need to rush. I said I would wait. But the premise is that you are worth my waiting."

she left.

Ye Guigen sat there alone, looking at the night outside the window.

On Saturday afternoon, Ye Guigen went to Knightsbridge. Elizabeth was at home, wearing loose loungewear, her hair casually tied up, and without makeup.

When she saw him, she paused for a moment, then laughed: "Why didn't you tell me beforehand? I look like this..."

"It looks great," Ye Guigen said as he entered. "It looks better than with makeup."

Elizabeth blushed slightly.

They sat in the living room, drinking tea and chatting. They didn't talk about funds or projects, just casual conversation—

What books is she reading lately? How is his thesis coming along? Is the London winter getting harder and harder to bear?

Elizabeth suddenly said, "Well, I've been thinking about getting a new hairstyle lately."

Ye Guigen looked at her: "Why?"

"I don't know. I just want to change things up." She touched her blonde hair. "I've always looked like this since I was little, it seems like I've never changed."

"What hairdo would you like?"

"I haven't decided yet." She smiled. "I'll let you know when I do."

In the evening, when Ye Guigen left, Elizabeth saw him to the door. It was already dark, and the streetlights were on, casting a long shadow of her.

“Back to your roots,” she suddenly called out to him.

Leaves return to their roots.

"Thank you for coming today," she said softly. "It's nice to just sit here and chat."

Ye Guigen nodded and left.

On his way back to school, he kept thinking about Elizabeth's words. She said, "It's nice to just sit and chat like this."

Yes, it's good. But he also felt it was good when he chatted with Miyuki.

There are two kinds of good, but they are not the same kind of good.

He didn't know which one to choose.

Ye Guigen was two minutes late for class on Monday. When he pushed open the door, he noticed an empty seat next to Meixue. He hesitated for a moment, then went over and sat down.

Miyuki glanced at him, said nothing, and continued taking notes.

In class, the professor discussed a case study about the agricultural collectivization movement during Japan's post-war reconstruction.

Ye Guigen suddenly remembered that Meixue had mentioned her family's small farm in Hokkaido, and asked in a low voice, "What happened to your family's lavender farm?"

Miyuki paused for a moment, then said softly, "It's abandoned. After Grandpa passed away, no one took care of it."

"pity."

"Yes." She paused, "But now I'm thinking, maybe I can go back and plant it again sometime."

Ye Guigen looked at her. Her profile was bathed in the light streaming in from the window, her expression both gentle and resolute.

“You will grow it very well,” he said.

Miyuki turned her head, glanced at him, and smiled.

That was the first time she had truly laughed since "that thing" happened between them.

After class, Raj came over and asked in a low voice, "You two made up?"

"If you didn't argue, how can you make up?" "Come on." Raj rolled his eyes. "The atmosphere between you two was so tense that even a blind man could see there was something wrong."

Ye Guigen remained silent.

Raj sighed: "Brother, you still haven't thought it through?"

"No."

"So how long do you plan to drag this out?"

Ye Guigen looked at Meixue's retreating figure in the distance, and then recalled the image of Elizabeth standing at the door seeing him off.

"I don't know," he said, "but I'll figure it out eventually."

An unexpected incident occurred on Wednesday night.

Ye Guigen was writing his thesis in the library when he suddenly received a call from Hans, whose voice sounded panicked:
"Ye, come back quickly! Someone downstairs is looking for you, and they look like... thugs!"

Ye Guigen's heart tightened, and he immediately packed his things and rushed back.

Upon reaching the dormitory building, he indeed saw several people standing at the entrance. The leader was a bald, burly man in a leather jacket, with a menacing face. Seeing Ye Guigen, he sized him up:
"You are Ye Guigen?"

Ye Guigen nodded.

“Li Ming is my cousin.” The bald, burly man stepped closer. “He told me that you hit him.”

Ye Guigen quickly calculated in his mind. Li Ming was dissatisfied and had brought people to back him up. He glanced at the number of people on the other side—four, all stronger than him.

What does he want?

"I don't want anything in return," the bald, burly man sneered. "I just want you to know that there are some people you can't afford to mess with."

He waved his hand, and four people surrounded him.

Just then, a voice came from the side: "Need any help?"

Everyone turned their heads.

He was a middle-aged man with an Asian face, wearing an ordinary coat, pushing a bicycle. He looked like a passerby, but his eyes were cold.

Ye Guigen was taken aback, then recognized him—it was Tiechui.

No, it's not Iron Hammer himself. Iron Hammer is in East Africa, how could he be in London? Is it one of Iron Hammer's men? Or did he mistake him?

The middle-aged man approached and said to the bald, burly man, "This kid is my friend. Give me some face and let it go."

The bald, burly man sneered, "Who the hell are you?"

The middle-aged man didn't say anything, but simply took something out of his pocket and waved it in front of the bald, burly man.

It was too fast; Ye Guigen didn't even see what it was. But the bald, burly man's expression changed instantly.

"Let's go." That was the only word the middle-aged man uttered.

The bald, burly man gritted his teeth and led a few men away in a dejected manner.

Ye Guigen looked at the middle-aged man: "Who are you?"

"Your aunt asked me to come and see you," the middle-aged man said casually. "I heard you're having some trouble. And it seems so."

Ye Guigen felt a surge of warmth in his heart. Was it his aunt Ye Xin? Or his two aunts from East Africa?
"Thank you."

"No need." The middle-aged man pushed his bicycle. "Next time you fight, remember to choose your location. No one will see you in the alley, but no one will help you either. Don't suffer this kind of loss."

After saying that, he rode away on his bicycle and disappeared into the night.

Ye Guigen stood there, stunned, for a long time.

Hans rushed out of the building: "Ye! Are you alright? Who was that person? Why did those thugs leave?"

"It's alright." Ye Guigen patted his shoulder. "Go inside."

That night, Ye Guigen couldn't sleep.

He recalled many things—his childhood in the military reclamation town, the street fights, his grandfather's teachings, the North African desert, and the two girls who stirred his heart.

He recalled Yang San's words, spoken many years ago in East Africa by his uncle when he was teaching him how to shoot:
"A man has to protect something in his life. Hisself, his family, his friends, or his beliefs. If he can't protect anything, then there's no point in living."

What does he want to protect now?
He wanted to protect children like Fatima, to give them electricity, books, and a future.

He wanted to protect what his grandfather's generation had built and prevent it from breaking down in his hands.

He wanted to protect...

Elizabeth? Or Miyuki?
he does not know.

But perhaps he doesn't need to know now.

He was only eighteen years old.

On Friday, Ye Guigen received an email from Professor Sachs:
"Ye, I've read your paper. It has ideas, but the data is insufficient. I have a friend from Africa coming next week who's an expert in rural finance. You could talk to him; it might be helpful."

He replied with thanks.

On Saturday afternoon, he went to Professor Sachs's house.

It was a small apartment in North London, with bookshelves crammed full of books. The professor's friend, Mbeki, was a Kenyan in his fifties, with gray hair and a gentle smile.

The three of them drank tea and chatted. Mbeki talked about the microfinance projects he had done in various parts of Africa, some successful and some unsuccessful.

The reasons for their success are similar—a deep understanding of local needs, designing flexible products, and cultivating local talent.

The reasons for failure are similar—blindly copying external models without considering the actual situation, or only wanting to make money regardless of the consequences.

Ye Guigen listened intently and asked many questions. Mbeki answered them one by one, and finally looked at him and said:

"Young man, you've asked some very good questions. But the most important one is: what are you doing all this for?"

Ye Guigen thought for a moment: "In order to... make things a little better."

Mbeki laughed: "This answer is enough for a lifetime."

When Ye Guigen returned to his dormitory that evening, he received two messages.

One of the messages was from Elizabeth: "There's a charity gala next week, would you like to come with me? I'd like you to meet some friends."

One message was from Miyuki: "Are you free this weekend? I'd like to go to the British Museum to see a special exhibition on Japan. Would you like to come along?"

He stared at the screen for a long time.

Then he replied to Elizabeth first: "Okay, let's go together."

She replied to Miyuki again: "Next week? I'm a bit busy this week."

After sending the message, he put down his phone and looked out at the night view.

London winters are getting colder, but the condensation on the windowpanes obscures the lights outside.

Hans was wearing headphones and playing Ye Yini's songs. This time it was an old song, "Light".

"You are my light, illuminating the distance. I chase after the light, unafraid of how long the road is..."

Ye Guigen listened and suddenly laughed.

He didn't know which light he would chase.

But he knew that no matter where he ran, the journey would not be in vain.

Because he is still young.

There's still a long way to go; we can think things through slowly.

Outside the window, the London night quieted down.

Occasionally, a car would drive by in the distance, its lights flashing by in an instant.

Ye Guigen closed his eyes and fell into a deep sleep.

Tomorrow will be another day. (End of Chapter)