Great Power Reclamation

London in May finally has the feel of spring.

Yang Chenglong's preparatory course results came out—a B in math, a C+ in English, and he passed the other subjects as well.

While this score isn't outstanding, it's enough to get into some lower-ranked universities.

He excitedly called Yang Geyong to share the good news, and Yang Geyong's loud voice came through the phone: "Great! I'll treat you to drinks when I get back!"

After hanging up the phone, Yang Chenglong jumped around in his dormitory for a long time, like an excited curly-haired dog.

Seeing his expression, Ye Guigen couldn't help but laugh: "Is it really that big of a deal? It's just that you passed the preparatory course."

Yang Chenglong glared: "Brother, you don't know, I didn't even graduate from high school, and I couldn't speak English when I came to England. Now that I've been admitted to university, my grandpa can brag about it for the rest of his life!"

Ye Guigen nodded: "Okay, that makes sense. Have you decided which school to apply to?"

Yang Chenglong scratched his head: "Not yet. I want to study business so I can go back and help my grandfather manage the horse farm. But I don't know which school is good."

Ye Guigen thought for a moment and said, "I'll ask around for you later. Now, let's eat first, it's on me."

The two found a restaurant near the school, and as soon as they sat down, Yang Chenglong's eyes were drawn to something.

Ye Guigen followed his gaze and saw a girl sitting at the table diagonally opposite him. She was Asian, with long, straight black hair, wearing a simple white T-shirt and jeans, and was reading a book. A cup of coffee sat next to her, steaming gently.

"What are you looking at?" Ye Guigen asked.

Yang Chenglong snapped out of his daze, his face slightly flushed: "N-nothing."

Ye Guigen glanced at the girl, then at Yang Chenglong's expression, and understood about 70-80% of what was going on.

"know?"

"I don't recognize it." Yang Chenglong quickly looked down at the menu. "Let's order, bro, I'm hungry."

During that meal, Yang Chenglong ate absentmindedly, his eyes constantly drifting in that direction. The girl never looked up, remaining engrossed in her book, occasionally turning a page with very quiet movements.

When Yang Chenglong finished his meal and left, he deliberately took a detour past her. The girl still didn't look up.

As Yang Chenglong walked out of the restaurant, he sighed.

Ye Guigen looked at him: "Want to get to know me?"

Yang Chenglong scratched his head: "I want to... but I don't dare."

Ye Guigen laughed: "Weren't you pretty brave when you jumped from the second floor?"

"That's different," Yang Chenglong exclaimed anxiously. "That's courting death, this is...this is..."

"what is this?"

After hesitating for a long time, Yang Chenglong finally managed to say, "This is being moved."

Ye Guigen almost burst out laughing, but he held it in.

“Okay,” he said, “then take your time to be tempted.”

After that, Yang Chenglong seemed to be possessed.

He went to that restaurant at the same time every day, ordered the cheapest coffee, and sat there for the whole afternoon. The girl also went every day, sat in the same spot, and read different books.

Yang Chenglong didn't dare to approach and speak, so he just watched from a distance.

Watching her flip through books, watching her drink coffee, watching her occasionally look up at the window.

He thought everything about her was beautiful: her hands were beautiful as she turned the pages of a book, her profile was beautiful as she looked down, even the way she frowned was beautiful.

A week later, Ye Guigen asked him, "How's the progress?"

Yang Chenglong said with a bitter face, "No progress. I don't even know her name."

"What are you going to do?"

"I don't know." Yang Chenglong slumped onto the table. "Brother, do you think I'm a coward?"

Ye Guigen thought for a moment and said, "It's not that I'm cowardly, it's that I don't know how to bring it up."

Yang Chenglong looked up: "Then teach me?"

Ye Guigen looked at him and suddenly remembered how flustered he was when he was pursuing Elizabeth. He just hadn't told Yang Chenglong that even winning someone's heart had its troubles.

“Next time you go, bring a book,” he said. “Pretend you’re reading too, then find an opportunity to strike up a conversation. Like asking her what she’s reading, or borrowing a pen or something.”

Yang Chenglong's eyes lit up: "That's a great idea!"

The next day, Yang Chenglong did as instructed.

He brought a book and sat not far from the girl, pretending to read intently. But he couldn't concentrate on the book at all; his eyes kept drifting towards her.

After sitting for half an hour, he finally mustered up the courage to stand up and walk over.

"Hello," he stammered in English, "what book are you reading?"

The girl looked up and glanced at him.

Yang Chenglong then got a clear look at her face. She wasn't stunningly beautiful, but she was pleasing to the eye. Her eyes weren't large, but they were bright; her nose was straight; and her lips were slightly pursed, giving her an aloof and unapproachable air.

“A French novel,” she replied in English, her voice very soft.

Yang Chenglong was stunned. French? He couldn't even speak English fluently, let alone French.

“Oh, oh, French,” he said awkwardly, scratching his head. “I… I don’t understand French.”

The girl glanced at him for two seconds, then looked down and continued reading, clearly not wanting to talk anymore.

Yang Chenglong returned to his seat sheepishly, wishing he could disappear into the ground.

That evening, he reported the battle situation to Ye Guigen, looking utterly hopeless.

"Brother, she's reading a French book! French! I can't even speak English well, how am I supposed to pursue her?"

Ye Guigen suppressed a laugh: "Then you should learn French."

Yang Chenglong glared at him: "Are you kidding me?"

"I'm not kidding you," Ye Guigen said seriously. "If you really want to pursue her, show some sincerity. Learn French, find out what she likes, and get closer to her slowly. Otherwise, find someone else."

Yang Chenglong remained silent for a long time.

"I don't want to change," he finally said. "I just love her."

Ye Guigen looked at him and suddenly thought of Meixue. That snowy day, that kiss, those words, "It's not that I don't love you, it's that I love myself more."

“Then you should learn it,” he said. “I support you.”

Yang Chenglong has really started learning French.

He found a bunch of tutorials online and spent every day memorizing words and practicing pronunciation, putting all his precious free time into it. His roommates thought he was crazy, but he didn't care.

A week later, he went to that restaurant again.

The girl was still in the same spot, still reading that French novel. Yang Chenglong mustered his courage and went over again.

This time, he spoke haltingly in French: "Hello, I... I'm learning French, can... can I ask you a few questions?"

The girl looked up and glanced at him with some surprise. Then, the corners of her mouth curled up slightly.

That was the first time Yang Chenglong saw her smile.

“Sit down,” she said in English. “My French isn’t very good, but I can practice.”

Yang Chenglong almost jumped up, but he held back and sat down opposite her.

The girl closed the book and introduced herself: "My name is Lin Wanwan. I'm from China and I study literature at the University of London."

Yang Chenglong quickly said, "My name is Yang Chenglong. I'm from China and I'm currently studying in a preparatory course."

Lin Wanwan nodded: "Why learn French?"

Yang Chenglong scratched his head: "Because...because I wanted to talk to you."

Lin Wanwan paused for a moment, then smiled.

This time her smile was even more pronounced, her eyes crinkling into crescents.

“You’re so direct,” she said.

Yang Chenglong scratched his head, unsure of what to say.

Lin Wanwan looked at him and suddenly asked, "How old are you?"

"nineteen."

"I'm twenty." She paused. "I have a boyfriend."

Yang Chenglong was stunned.

“He was studying literature in Paris,” Lin Wanwan said. “I learned French so that I could go to Paris to find him.”

Yang Chenglong's smile froze on his face.

He didn't hear a word they said after that. He only remembers saying, "Oh, that's good," and then he doesn't know how he got back to his seat.

That night, he didn't go out for dinner, nor did he reply to Ye Guigen's message.

The next day, Ye Guigen found his dormitory.

Yang Chenglong lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling, like a dead fish.

Ye Guigen sat down on the edge of the bed: "What's wrong?"

Yang Chenglong did not move.

"Did you fail to catch up?" Ye Guigen asked.

Yang Chenglong remained silent for a long time before speaking: "She has a boyfriend. In Paris. She's learning French so she can go find him."

Ye Guigen remained silent.

“Brother,” Yang Chenglong suddenly sat up, “Do you think I’m stupid? I studied French for a week just to say a few words to her. Turns out she has a boyfriend, and she was learning French to go to Paris to see him. What am I?”

Ye Guigen looked at him and said, "You're the kind of person who likes her."

Yang Chenglong was stunned.

“There’s nothing shameful about liking someone,” Ye Guigen said. “Even if she has a boyfriend, it’s not shameful. You’re learning French to get closer to her. That’s your sincerity, not your fault.”

Yang Chenglong lowered his head and remained silent.

"Are you feeling unwell?" Ye Guigen asked.

Yang Chenglong nodded.

“Then suffer through it,” Ye Guigen said. “Once you’re done suffering, go back to your life. Study when you need to study, eat when you need to eat, and learn French when you need to learn French.”

Yang Chenglong looked up: "You're learning French too?"

"Whether you learn or not is up to you." Ye Guigen stood up. "But if you give up after one failure, then you don't deserve the surname Yang."

After saying that, he left.

Yang Chenglong sat alone on the bed, stunned for a long time.

A week later, Yang Chenglong went to that restaurant again. Lin Wanwan was still in the same spot, and was somewhat surprised to see him.

Yang Chenglong sat down opposite her and said in broken French:
"Hello, I'm still learning French. Not to pursue you, but... for myself."

Lin Wanwan looked at him, her eyes holding something different.

"What's your name again?"

"Yang Chenglong".

“Yang Chenglong,” she said, “you are a good person.”

Yang Chenglong smiled wryly: "A 'good guy' card?"

Lin Wanwan smiled too: "That's not what I meant. I meant that you're doing great."

She paused for a moment: "My boyfriend and I have been dating for three years. He was my high school classmate. We came to England together, and he later went to Paris for an exchange program. We made a promise that I would go to Paris to see him after I graduated."

Yang Chenglong felt a pang of sadness as he listened, but he tried his best to remain calm.

"That's great," he said. "I wish you happiness."

Lin Wanwan looked at him and suddenly asked, "Aren't you angry?"

"Why are you angry?"

"I'm lying to you," Lin Wanwan said. "Actually, I knew from day one that you wanted to pursue me. But I didn't tell you I had a boyfriend, I wanted to see what you would do."

Yang Chenglong was stunned.

“You’re learning French and you’re trying to strike up a conversation, that’s quite cute,” Lin Wanwan said. “But I don’t want to hold you back, so I told you.”

Yang Chenglong remained silent for a long time.

Then he smiled, a bitter smile: "Okay, I understand."

He stood up, ready to leave. After taking two steps, he turned back.

“Lin Wanwan,” he said, “if your boyfriend doesn’t treat you well, I’ll be the first to go to Paris and beat him up.”

Lin Wanwan was stunned for a moment, then smiled.

That was the most beautiful smile Yang Chenglong had ever seen.

In June, the weather in London begins to get hot.

Yang Chenglong still goes to that restaurant every week, but he no longer sits next to Lin Wanwan. He sits at a distance, orders a coffee, and reads his books—English textbooks, math problems, and occasionally a French book.

Lin Wanwan remained the same as always, reading and drinking coffee every day, occasionally glancing out the window. Sometimes she would glance in Yang Chenglong's direction and nod as a greeting.

One day, Yang Chenglong mustered up his courage, walked over, and placed a book on her desk.

Lin Wanwan looked up, somewhat surprised.

"This is for you," Yang Chenglong said. "It's the Chinese version of 'The Little Prince.' You said you like French novels, and this one also has a French version, so you can read it together."

Lin Wanwan looked at the book and remained silent for a while.

"Thank you," she said softly.

Yang Chenglong scratched his head, turned around and left.

Back in his seat, he picked up his book and pretended to be reading intently. But his eyes kept glancing in that direction out of the corner of his eye.

Lin Wanwan opened the book, read a few pages, then looked up and smiled at him.

Yang Chenglong's heart skipped a beat.

At the end of June, Lin Wanwan suddenly disappeared.

That restaurant, that old spot, is empty.

Yang Chenglong went there every day and waited every day, but he never saw her again.

A week later, he couldn't help but ask the restaurant owner. The owner said that the girl hadn't come for several days and it seemed she had gone back to her country early.

Yang Chenglong stood at the restaurant entrance, stunned for a long time.

That night, he called Ye Guigen, his voice a little hoarse: "Brother, she's gone."

Ye Guigen was silent for a moment: "You've returned to China?"

"Ah."

"Sad?"

Yang Chenglong thought for a moment: "Sad."

"What should I do?"

Yang Chenglong took a deep breath: "It's tough. But I'll keep living my life."

Ye Guigen laughed on the other end of the phone: "Okay, you've grown up."

After hanging up the phone, Yang Chenglong sat alone in his dormitory.

Outside the window, the London night is gentle. In the distance, lights twinkle, like countless stories unfolding simultaneously.

He remembered Lin Wanwan's smile, her saying "You are a good person," and the look in her eyes when she received "The Little Prince."

Those scenes played back in my mind like a movie, over and over again.

He didn't know if he would ever see her again.

But he knew that he had liked a girl that summer.

I like it so much, so foolishly, so earnestly.

This is enough.

In early July, Yang Chenglong received an email.

It was sent from Huaxia, and he didn't know the sender.

Upon opening it, she found a photograph. In the photo, Lin Wanwan stood in an unfamiliar city, with ancient buildings behind her. She smiled at the camera, holding a book in her hand—"The Little Prince."

On the back of the photo was written: "Thank you for your book. Best wishes. Lin Wanwan."

Yang Chenglong stared at the photo for a long time, stunned.

Then he laughed.

He put the photo on the headboard of his bed and looked at it every night before going to sleep.

When Ye Guigen arrived, he saw him and asked, "Who is it?"

Yang Chenglong grinned: "The girl I like."

"The one with a boyfriend?"

"Yes, the one who has a boyfriend."

Ye Guigen looked at him, somewhat surprised: "You're still thinking about her?"

Yang Chenglong scratched his head: "It's not that I want to, it's that I... remember. She made me realize what it feels like to like someone."

Ye Guigen was silent for a moment, then nodded.

“Okay,” he said, “then you’ll remember that.”

In mid-July, Yang Chenglong received his university admission letter—Queen Mary University of London, Business Studies.

He excitedly called Yang Geyong, who was grinning from ear to ear on the other end of the line: "Great! I'll treat you to drinks when I get back!"

He called Ye Guigen again, and Ye Guigen said, "Congratulations. I'll treat you to dinner tonight."

That evening, the two ate at the restaurant near the school—the same restaurant where they met Lin Wanwan.

Yang Chenglong sat in his usual spot, ordered a coffee, and looked at the empty seat opposite him.

Ye Guigen asked, "What are you thinking about?"

Yang Chenglong snapped out of his reverie: "It's nothing. I was just thinking about things from the past."

Ye Guigen remained silent.

Yang Chenglong took a sip of coffee and suddenly said, "Brother, do you think she'll come to London again?"

Ye Guigen thought for a moment and said, "I don't know."

Will I ever see her again?

"do not know either."

Yang Chenglong was silent for a moment, then laughed: "Alright, if I don't know, I don't know. Anyway, I'll remember her."

Ye Guigen looked at him with a hint of relief in his eyes.

“Jackie Chan,” he said, “you’ve grown up.”

Yang Chenglong scratched his head: "Really? I still feel like that idiot who jumped off the second floor?"

Ye Guigen laughed: "Fools grow up. You're not that fool anymore."

After dinner, the two took a walk along the Thames.

The night was gentle, and the lights reflected on the river. In the distance, the lights of the London Eye slowly turned.

Yang Chenglong suddenly stopped and looked at the river.

“Brother,” he said, “if I have a son in the future, I’ll tell him that when his dad was young, he liked a girl. He liked her naively, foolishly, and earnestly. Although they didn’t end up together, the feeling was quite nice.”

Ye Guigen looked at him and smiled.

“Okay,” he said, “I’ll tell my son too.”

The two stood by the river for a long time.

A breeze blew across the river, carrying the warmth of early summer.

Yang Chenglong recalled Lin Wanwan's smile, the book "The Little Prince," and her words, "You are a good person."

He felt a mix of emotions—a bittersweet feeling, a strange sense of unease.

But that feeling was pretty good.

At the end of August, Yang Chenglong was preparing to start school.

As he packed his bags, he saw the photo on the bedside table. Lin Wanwan was standing in an unfamiliar city, holding up "The Little Prince" and smiling at the camera.

He carefully put the photos into his suitcase and placed them away.

Regardless of whether he will ever see her again, he will keep this photo forever.

It reminded him that when he was nineteen, he had liked a girl in London.

I like it so much, so foolishly, so earnestly.

That feeling, I'll never forget it. (End of Chapter)