Great Power Reclamation

Winter arrives swiftly and decisively in Junken City.

After the first snowfall in November, the whole city was covered in a layer of white.

Yang Wei stood in his yard, looking at the thick snow on the grape trellis, and suddenly remembered his childhood. Winters were colder and the snow was deeper, but there were people everywhere and warmth everywhere.

Now? The city has grown bigger, but more problems have followed.

What are you thinking about?

Zhang Jianjiang pushed open the door and came in, his body covered in snow.

Yang Wei snapped out of his reverie: "It's nothing. Has the batch of goji berries been shipped?"

"Sent, three hundred boxes, to Guangzhou." Zhang Jianjiang patted the snow off his clothes.
"The feedback from them is good. They say our goji berries are large, have a good color, and are just as good as those from Ningxia."

Yang Wei nodded, feeling somewhat relieved.

After three months, his pilot project has finally started to show promise. The goji berries from the Junkencheng Farm have opened up sales channels in several cities through a traceability system and branded packaging. Although the volume is small, the approach is right.

"Yang Wei," Zhang Jianjiang suddenly said, "there's something I want to tell you."

Yang Wei looked at him: "What is it?"

Zhang Jianjiang hesitated for a moment: "Yesterday I went to the local area on business and visited a few farms along the way. The situation there... is not good."

Yang Wei was taken aback: "Place?"

“Yes,” Zhang Jianjiang said. “The land is vast and sparsely populated, the infrastructure is poor, and agricultural products cannot be sold. Many farmers’ crops either rot in the fields or are bought at low prices. I went to see it, and it made me feel quite bad.”

Yang Wei remained silent for a while.

Of course he knew. In the northern frontier, the area occupied by the Production and Construction Corps was actually not large, while the largest reclamation areas were all in the local areas.

That area is vast and rich in resources, but its development is extremely uneven.

Over the years, several leaders of the Xinjiang Production and Construction Corps have come from the Military Reclamation City. They brought their experience from the Military Reclamation City to transform the entire Corps, and indeed, there have been great changes.

But the entire northern Xinjiang region is too vast, and the gap between the Xinjiang Production and Construction Corps and local authorities cannot be closed in just a few years.

“Sister Ayijiang contacted me yesterday.”

Yang Wei was stunned.

Ayijiang.

His half-sister.

Daughter of father Yang Geyong and Chi Naer.

Yang Wei and Ayijiang didn't have much contact. Actually, he and Zhang Jianjiang could be considered brothers, since Zhang Jianjiang and Ayijiang were half-siblings.

"What...did she say?" Yang Wei asked.

Zhang Jianjiang lowered his head: "She hopes we won't just focus on the Xinjiang Production and Construction Corps."

Yang Wei didn't know what to say.

He knew very little about this older sister. He only knew that she was the child of Yang Geyong and his first love, Chi Na'er.

Back then, Yang Geyong was taken back to his hometown by his parents, who thought he would never return. Chi Na'er, pregnant and waiting in vain, later married a Kazakh man. After that man died, she married Zhang Jianjiang's father.

Yes, this is Zhang Jianjiang's father.

But Chi Na'er's daughter was raised by Yang Geyong from a young age.

Later, he went to Boston to study with Ye Yuze and became childhood friends with Ye Yuji, the daughter of Ye Yuze's stepmother Ye Ling'er.

Ye Yuji is now a high-ranking official in a ministry, while Ayijiang returned to the Xinjiang Production and Construction Corps and worked his way up from the military reclamation city to become the top leader in northern Xinjiang.

Yang Wei didn't see his sister very often. He didn't have many memories of her from childhood; he remembered her as a quiet girl with big eyes who didn't talk much.

After we grew up, we saw each other even less. We were all busy with our own lives, and when I occasionally heard my father mention it, it was only a few words.

"How is she doing?" Yang Wei asked.

Zhang Jianjiang sighed: "It's difficult. Northern Xinjiang is too big, and there are too many problems. She has been there for many years, traveling to every place, and her hair has turned quite white from exhaustion. But her foundation is weak, and she can't change it in a short time."

Yang Wei fell silent.

Zhang Jianjiang looked at him, seemingly wanting to say something but then stopping himself.

"What do you want to say?" Yang Wei asked.

Zhang Jianjiang scratched his head: "Yang Wei, I know you and she aren't very close. But she is, after all, our older sister. What we're doing now, the military reclamation city model, if it can be promoted to northern Xinjiang, would be a great help to her."

Yang Wei didn't say anything.

That night, Yang Wei went to Yang Geyong's house.

Yang Geyong was watching TV in the room when he saw him come in, and he was a little surprised.

"You're here so late, is something the matter?"

Yang Wei sat down, remained silent for a while, and then spoke.

"Dad, do you know about Ayijiang's situation?"

Yang Geyong paused for a moment, then nodded.

"know."

"Is she... having a hard time doing this?"

Yang Geyong remained silent for a while, then turned off the TV.

“Wei Zi,” he said, “the people I’ve wronged the most in my life are your mother and Ayijiang’s mother.”

Yang Wei listened without saying a word.

"Back then, my feelings for your Aunt Chi Na'er were genuine."

Yang Geyong said, "But my family disagreed and dragged me back to my hometown. I thought I would never come back, but I ended up going back to Junken City. When I got back, she had already gotten married."

He paused, his voice a little hoarse.

“Ayijiang, that child, grew up with me since she was little. Her mother married Jianjiang’s father, but she has always taken my surname, Yang. I owe her a debt I can never repay in my lifetime.”

Yang Wei looked at him, feeling a pang of sadness.

“She’s all alone over there, it’s so hard for her,” Yang Wei said. “Why don’t you help her?”

Yang Geyong smiled bitterly: "How can I help? What can an old man like me do? She is a cadre of the Production and Construction Corps, and I am just an ordinary citizen. I can't help her."

He looked at Yang Wei, his eyes suddenly becoming serious.

But you are different.

Yang Wei was stunned.

“What you’re doing now—the military reclamation city model, agricultural product branding, e-commerce channels, and traceability systems—is exactly what northern Xinjiang needs,” Yang Geyong said. “If you can bring these to northern Xinjiang, that will be the biggest help you can give them.”

Yang Wei remained silent for a long time.

Then he asked, "Dad, do you want me to go?"

Yang Geyong nodded.

"Hope. Not for me, but for her, and for all the members of the Production and Construction Corps who are suffering in the northern frontier."

Yang Wei stood up.

"let me see."

The next day, Yang Wei went to find Ye Yuze.

Ye Yuze was playing chess in the courtyard, his opponent being Yang Geyong—the two had loved playing chess since they were young, and hadn't given up even in their old age. Seeing Yang Wei enter, Ye Yuze waved him over: "You've come at the right time, help me take a look at this move."

Yang Wei walked over, glanced at the chessboard, and randomly pointed to a spot.

Ye Yuze smiled: "You seem distracted. Is something wrong?"

Yang Wei nodded.

Yang Geyong glanced at him, said nothing, and continued playing chess.

Yang Wei shared his thoughts: the model of the military reclamation city, the current situation in northern Xinjiang, Ayijiang's predicament, and his father's expectations.

After listening, Ye Yuze remained silent for a while, then put down the chess piece.

“Wei Zi,” he said, “do you know why I took Ayijiang to Boston to study back then?”

Yang Wei shook his head.

“Because she is smart, has ideas, and can achieve great things,” Ye Yuze said. “But that girl always had a knot in her heart—she is a child of the Production and Construction Corps, and she wants to come back and do something for the Corps.”

He looked at Yang Wei: "She did it. She went to such a difficult place as the northern frontier and stayed for three years. Do you know what three years can change? Not much, but she persevered."

Yang Wei listened, feeling somewhat shaken.

“What she needs now is not money or policies, but something that can be implemented,” Ye Yuze continued. “The model of the military reclamation city is something that can be implemented. If you can blaze a trail, it will be a great thing for her and for the northern frontier.”

Yang Wei was silent for a moment, then asked, "Uncle Ye, do you think I can do it?"

Ye Yuze smiled.

"You're asking me? Who am I supposed to ask?" He patted Yang Wei on the shoulder. "If you think you can do it, then you can. If you don't think you can, then no one's opinion of you matters."

That night, Yang Wei couldn't sleep.

He lay in bed, thinking of Ayijiang.

That older sister I haven't seen much is now alone in northern Xinjiang, running such a large business.

He recalled Zhang Jianjiang's words: "I'm so tired that my hair has turned quite a bit white."

He recalled Yang Geyong's words: "I owe her something I can never repay in my lifetime."

He recalled Ye Yuze's words, "She held on."

At three in the morning, he picked up his phone and sent a message to Zhang Jianjiang.

"Jianjiang, come with me to northern Xinjiang tomorrow."

The two set off early the next morning.

Northern Xinjiang is very far, a seven or eight-hour drive. Along the way, Yang Wei looked at the scenery outside the window, his mind filled with many thoughts.

He recalled his days in Africa, amidst gunfire and life-threatening situations. Back then, he felt it was a serious matter, something a man should do.

Looking back now, which was bigger, those things or what he has to do today?
he does not know.

But he knew that today's situation might be even more difficult.

At four o'clock in the afternoon, they arrived at the headquarters of the Northern Xinjiang Production and Construction Corps.

Ayijiang's office was on the fourth floor. It wasn't large, but it was very tidy. A map of northern Xinjiang hung on the wall, densely covered with markings. Files were piled on her desk, and next to it sat a half-finished cup of tea, long since cold. Ayijiang was in a meeting and had them wait.

Yang Wei sat in the reception room, looking at the photos on the wall. One photo showed Ayijiang standing in the snow, wearing a military overcoat, after visiting the production and construction corps.
There are photos of her chatting with farmers, smiling gently; and photos of her posing with a group of young people, standing on a barren piece of land, pointing into the distance.

The people in those photos all have a light in their eyes.

Half an hour later, Ayijiang pushed open the door and came in.

Yang Wei stood up and looked at her.

She was thinner than in the photos, and her hair had indeed turned quite a bit whiter, but her eyes were still so bright. When she saw him, she paused for a moment, then smiled.

"Yang Wei, what brings you here?"

Yang Wei didn't know what to say, so he just scratched his head.

"Come and see you."

Ayijiang looked at him, her eyes filled with something complicated.

Then she smiled, a smile as gentle as in the photograph.

"Please sit down. I'll have someone make some tea."

That afternoon, Yang Wei sat in Ayijiang's office for a long time.

He explained his plan: the military reclamation city model, branding of agricultural products, e-commerce channels, and a traceability system. He spoke slowly, observing Ayijiang's reaction as he spoke.

Ayijiang listened attentively, occasionally asking a few questions and nodding occasionally.

After he finished speaking, she remained silent for a while.

"Do you know how big Northern Xinjiang is?" she asked.

Yang Wei nodded.

Do you know how many farms, how many households, and how many problems there are here?

Yang Wei nodded again.

Ayijiang looked at him, her eyes filled with something indescribable.

“Yang Wei,” she said, “you know what? I’ve been in northern Xinjiang for three years. The hardest thing isn’t the lack of money or policies, it’s the lack of a viable model.”

She stood up and walked to the map on the wall.

“Look, this is such a large piece of land, but the produce we grow can’t be transported out and can’t fetch a good price. Farmers work hard all year, but in the end, they may even lose money. Young people can’t stay here, so they all leave. What’s left are the elderly and children.”

She turned around and looked at Yang Wei.

"I need a feasible model. A model that gives farmers hope. A model that makes young people want to stay."

Yang Wei also stood up and walked up to her.

“Sister,” he said, “I’ll help you.”

Ayijiang was stunned.

That was the first time he called her "sister".

After a long silence, Ayijiang smiled. But as she smiled, her eyes reddened.

“Okay,” she said. “Let’s do it together.”

That evening, Ayijiang treated Yang Wei and Zhang Jianjiang to dinner.

It was a small restaurant serving local dishes. Ayijiang ordered a large table of food, saying she wanted them to taste the flavors of northern Xinjiang.

During the meal, Yang Wei asked many questions: the types of agricultural products in northern Xinjiang, their distribution, logistics conditions, and e-commerce infrastructure. Ayijiang answered them one by one, clearly and logically, with detailed data.

Zhang Jianjiang listened from the side, secretly admiring her. This woman truly understood.

"Sister," Yang Wei suddenly asked, "aren't you tired being here all alone?"

Ayijiang paused for a moment, then smiled.

"Tired. But I have to keep going even if I'm tired."

She looked out the window; the northern Xinjiang region in the night was as quiet as a painting.

“You know, I grew up with my dad and saw how hard he worked to build Junken City from a small place into what it is today. I thought to myself, I want to do something like him in the future.”

She turned her head and looked at Yang Wei.

"The military reclamation city was built by my father's generation. Now it's our turn in the northern frontier."

Yang Wei was startled.

He drank quite a lot of alcohol that night.

On the way back to the hotel, Zhang Jianjiang supported him, and he talked all the way, about the future: how to build a brand, how to establish distribution channels, how to train farmers, and how to bring young people back.

Zhang Jianjiang felt a surge of warmth in his heart as he listened.

“Yang Wei,” he suddenly said, “you know what, you’ve changed.”

Yang Wei looked at him: "What has changed?"

Zhang Jianjiang laughed: "You used to think about Africa every day, now you think about Northern Xinjiang every day. That's what you should be thinking about."

Yang Wei was stunned for a moment, then he smiled.

Yes, he used to think about Africa every day. He thought about those days of gunfire and explosions, about those times that can never be returned to.

Now, he's thinking about the northern frontier.

It was those farms waiting for change, those farmers hoping for a better future, and the older sister who called him "brother".

The next day, Yang Wei followed Ayijiang to the production and construction corps.

After a day of running around, he visited three places: one where goji berries were grown, one where cattle and sheep were raised, and one where fruit trees were planted. At each place, Ayijiang explained the situation to him in detail, and the farmers gathered around, asking questions all at once.

Looking into the eyes of those farmers, Yang Wei felt a mix of emotions.

Those eyes held longing, anticipation, and helplessness.

It's not that they don't want to do it, it's that they don't know how.

Back at the camp that evening, Yang Wei sat in his room for a long time without saying a word.

Zhang Jianjiang asked, "What are you thinking about?"

Yang Wei looked up at him.

"Jianjiang, we need to hurry."

Zhang Jianjiang was stunned.

“Those farmers can’t afford to wait,” Yang Wei said. “Every extra day they wait, they suffer for another day.”

Zhang Jianjiang nodded.

"Okay, let's hurry."

On the way back to Junken City, Yang Wei remained silent.

Outside the car window, the snow-covered plains of northern Xinjiang stretched as far as the eye could see. Occasionally, a few farms could be seen, scattered forlornly across the snow.

He suddenly remembered what Ayijiang had said.

"The military reclamation city was built by my father's generation. Now it's our turn in the northern frontier."

Yes, it's their turn.

In the first half of his life, he wandered in Africa, braving gunfire and experiencing both glory and despair.

In the second half of his life, he wanted to do something different.

It's not for myself, but for those waiting eyes.

Upon returning to Junken City, Yang Wei's first action was to find Ye Yuze.

He described the situation in northern Xinjiang, Ayijiang's thoughts, and what he wanted to do.

After listening, Ye Yuze remained silent for a long time.

Then he laughed.

“Wei Zi,” he said, “you know, I’ve been waiting for this day.”

Yang Wei was stunned.

"I'm waiting for you to find what you truly want to do." Ye Yuze looked at him. "Not Africa, not the past, but here, in the present."

He stood up and patted Yang Wei on the shoulder.

"Go ahead and do it. If you need anything, just let me know."

Yang Wei nodded, his eyes welling up with tears.

After leaving Ye Yuze's house, he stood at the door and looked at the sky over Junken City.

The sky was very blue, and the snow was very white.

He suddenly remembered his son Yang Chenglong's smile in London, Lin Wanwan's braised pork, the expectation in his father Yang Geyong's eyes, and Ayijiang's words, "Let's do it together."

He took out his phone and sent a message to Yang Chenglong.

"Son, Dad is going to do something big."

The reply came very quickly.

"what's up?"

Yang Wei thought for a moment and replied.

"Help your aunt to make northern Xinjiang a better place."

A while later, Yang Chenglong's reply came.

It's a thumbs-up emoji.

This is followed by a sentence.

"Dad, you're the best."

Yang Wei looked at the message and smiled.

Laughing, he strode forward.

Ahead lies the road home.

It is also the road leading to the northern frontier. (End of Chapter)