Great Power Reclamation

The next morning, Yang Wei was woken up by his cell phone ringing.

He reached for his phone and saw it was Zhang Jianjiang. It was barely dawn outside; the snow in the military reclamation city had stopped, but the wind was still howling.

"Hello?" Yang Wei's voice was hoarse. He had been drinking with Yang Geyong until midnight last night, and his throat hadn't recovered yet.

"Yang Wei, come here right away." Zhang Jianjiang's voice was low, tinged with a strange excitement.

"what happened?"

“Something happened at Hongshan Ranch—not bad, but good. Uncle Habuli just called and said that herders from three surrounding ranches have all come, a huge crowd blocking his door, looking for you.”

Yang Wei snapped back to reality. He sat up and rubbed his face.

What are they doing here?

"What are you doing?" Zhang Jianjiang laughed on the other end of the phone. "You've come to sell sheep. You've sold someone else's sheep, and the news has spread. Now all the herders within hundreds of miles know about it. Yang Wei, you're in big trouble."

Yang Wei hung up the phone and quickly got dressed. When he came out of the room, Yang Geyong was already sitting in the living room with a bowl of hot tea and several naan breads in front of him.

"Going out again?" Yang Geyong asked without looking up.

"Ah."

Yang Geyong nodded without asking any further questions. He took out a bunch of keys from his pocket, took one off, and placed it on the table.

"You drive that SUV. The Santana can't handle that road."

Yang Wei was stunned for a moment. That key belonged to Yang Geyong's old Land Cruiser, which had been with him for over ten years, and he usually wouldn't let anyone touch it.

"dad--"

"Stop dawdling." Yang Geyong picked up his teacup and took a sip. "Hurry up and go. Those herders are waiting for you."

Yang Wei grabbed his keys and glanced back as he walked to the door. Yang Geyong sat in the morning light, his back slightly hunched, his hair completely white. He suddenly realized that his father had grown old.

But his father's eyes were still bright.

Three hours later, Yang Wei and Zhang Jianjiang reappeared at Hongshan Ranch.

This time, the scene was completely different from when they first came.

The open space in front of Habuli's house was filled with motorcycles, tractors, and horse-drawn carts. Herdsmen stood in twos and threes, some smoking, some chatting, and some squatting on the ground eating naan bread.

The sounds of sheep bleating, horses neighing, and people talking mingled together, buzzing like a pot of boiling water.

The crowd fell silent as soon as they saw Yang Wei's car approaching.

Then, as if someone had given a signal, everyone gathered around.

As soon as Yang Wei got out of the car, he was grasped by a group of rough hands. Some of those hands were like sandpaper, some like tree bark, and some had large, deformed joints, but every pair was warm.

"Mr. Yang! Mr. Yang! Look at my sheep!"

"Mr. Yang, I came from 100 kilometers away, and it took me four hours to get here!"

"Mr. Yang, the sheep on our ranch are even better than those on Hongshan Ranch. Please take a look at ours first!"

Yang Wei was pushed forward by the crowd, surrounded by a cacophony of sounds. He saw Habuli standing in the middle of the crowd, wearing a new cotton-padded jacket, his face crinkled with smiles.

"Grandpa, what's going on?" Yang Wei finally managed to squeeze his way to Habuli's side.

Habuli grabbed his hand and said loudly, "Mr. Yang, these are all herders from the surrounding ranches. They all came to you after hearing that you sold our sheep."

“I told them you weren’t here, but they wouldn’t leave. They just waited here. Last night they slept on the floor in my house and ate all the food we had.”

He spoke with a hint of complaint in his tone, but he couldn't hide the smile on his face.

Yang Wei looked around at the expectant eyes. He remembered when he first came here; it was as desolate as a ghost village. Now, it was alive.

“Okay,” he said, taking a deep breath, “one at a time.”

That day, Yang Wei spent the whole day at Hongshan Ranch.

He started at nine in the morning and worked until ten at night, only eating a piece of naan and drinking two bowls of milk tea in between.

The herders lined up and spoke to him one by one. He asked each of them about their situation—how many sheep they had, what breed they were, how big their pastures were, where their feed came from, and who they sold to in previous years.

Zhang Jianjiang took notes beside him. They went through two notebooks and wore out three ballpoint pens.

At four o'clock in the afternoon, Ayijiang also arrived. She drove a pickup truck, carrying several livestock experts from northern Xinjiang Province.

"I brought someone with me." She got out of the car with a smile on her face.
"You've met Expert Chen. There's also Expert Wang, who works on breed improvement. And there's another one from the veterinary station, surnamed Li."

Yang Wei felt a surge of warmth as he looked at the experts.

"Sister—Ayijiang, how did you come up with this?"

Ayijiang rolled her eyes at him: "You think you're the only one worrying about this? This is a matter of cooperation between the Corps and the local authorities. How could I not care? You couldn't handle it by yourself, even if you worked yourself to death."

The experts got to work as soon as they got out of the car. Expert Chen went to check the pastures, Expert Wang went to check the sheep breeds, and Veterinarian Li went to vaccinate the sheep. The herders surrounded them, asking questions all at once.

"Teacher Chen, the grass isn't growing in our pasture anymore, what should we do?"

"Teacher Wang, should I get a different breed of sheep?"

"Veterinarian Li, my sheep has had diarrhea for several days, can you take a look?"

The experts were extremely busy, but their faces were full of joy. Expert Chen squatted on the grassland, holding a handful of soil in his hand, looked at it for a long time, then stood up and said, "This grassland can still be saved. Plant alfalfa, and it will recover in three years."

The herders' eyes lit up when they heard this.

That evening, Habuli cooked another large pot of mutton.

This time, it wasn't just one sheep, it was three. Habuli slaughtered two, and the neighbor next door slaughtered another. The mutton simmered in a large pot, its aroma wafting far and wide.

Yang Wei, Zhang Jianjiang, Ayijiang, and several experts sat around the kang (a heated brick bed), while the herders crowded the room. Habuli poured wine for everyone; it was homemade mare's milk wine, sour and a bit pungent.

“Come on, Mr. Yang,” Habuli raised his bowl, “I’ll toast you. This first bowl is to thank you for helping us sell the sheep.”

Yang Wei picked up the bowl and took a big gulp.

“The second bowl,” Habuli poured, “thank you for not coming and leaving like others.”

Yang Wei took another sip.

“The third bowl,” Habuli’s voice trembled slightly, “thank you for treating us like human beings.”

Yang Wei's eyes welled up with tears. He downed the third bowl of wine in one gulp, coughing from the spiciness.

“Sir,” he said, “don’t say that. I just did what I was supposed to do.”

Habuli shook his head: "It's not 'should,' it's 'willing.'"

Yang Geyong had said the same thing. Yang Wei paused for a moment, a feeling he couldn't quite put his finger on.

That night, everyone drank a lot and talked a lot. Expert Chen, having had too much to drink, grabbed Habuli's hand and said:

"Don't worry, sir. Leave the grassland to me. I guarantee I'll make sure your grassland turns green again in three years."

Expert Wang was also drunk, and he wouldn't let go of a herdsman's lamb, saying:

“This breed is good. Keep it for breeding, and your sheep flock will be improved next year.”

Veterinarian Li wasn't drinking. He was giving an injection to a sick sheep while explaining precautions to the herder.

Ayijiang sat next to Yang Wei, not drinking alcohol, but only tea. She looked at the lively scene in the room, a slight smile playing on her lips.

“Yang Wei,” she said suddenly.

"Ok?"

Do you know why I'm here today?

Yang Wei looked at her.

“It’s not because I don’t trust you,” Ayijiang said, “it’s because I want to see for myself. To see if what you said is true.”

"And now?" Yang Wei asked.

Ayijiang looked at the herdsmen laughing, talking, and drinking in the room, at the busy experts, and at Habuli's wrinkled smiling face.

“Now I believe it,” she said.

Yang Wei didn't say anything, but simply poured her a bowl of tea.

That night, Yang Wei did not stay overnight at Habuli's house.

He had to rush back to Junken City so he could meet with several clients from Guangzhou early the next morning. These clients were introduced by the restaurant where he had bought the lamb last time; they had heard that XJ had high-quality lamb and had flown over specifically to investigate.

Zhang Jianjiang had been drinking and couldn't drive, so Yang Wei drove himself. The SUV moved slowly through the snow, its headlights illuminating the road ahead. The snow started falling again, lightly, fine and dense, like salt.

After driving for about an hour, Yang Wei's phone rang.

He glanced at it and saw it was Marshal Ye.

"Hey?"

"Brother Yang Wei," Ye Shuai's voice came from the other end of the phone, carrying the excitement unique to young people, "I have some news for you."

"What news?"

"I won the governorship."

Yang Wei paused for a moment, then laughed.

"You're something else, kid."

Marshal Ye chuckled on the other end of the phone, like a child who had just received an award.

“Brother Yang Wei, my dad told me not to be arrogant. I thought about it, and he’s right. I’ve only just begun, and I have a long way to go.”

“Your dad is right,” Yang Wei said, “but you can be proud too. There aren’t many governors in the world who are thirty years old.”

Marshal Ye smiled again, a very happy smile.

"By the way, Brother Yang Wei, how is my mom—Yu'e's mom? I just called home and forgot to ask."

“I’m fine,” Yang Wei said. “You don’t need to worry.”

"That's good." Marshal Ye's voice softened. "Brother Yang Wei, I have something to tell you. During my campaign, there were several times when I almost couldn't hold on."

“My opponents attacked me, saying I was the son of a Chinese businessman and that I was disloyal to Jeep. That period was particularly difficult. I sat alone in my office, not knowing who to talk to.”

Yang Wei gripped the steering wheel without saying a word.

“Then I remembered someone,” Marshal Ye said, “I remembered you.”

"miss me?"

"Yes. I remember those years you spent alone in Africa, without support or backing, just enduring it all. You once told me something that I've always remembered—you said, 'A man must believe in himself when no one else believes in him.'"

Yang Wei fell silent.

He didn't remember saying that. But he knew it sounded like something he would say.

"That sentence sustained me through the last three months," Ye Shuai said. "Yang Wei, thank you."

Yang Wei's throat tightened slightly. He cleared his throat and said, "No need to thank me. You got to where you are today on your own. I didn't do anything."

“You did it,” Marshal Ye said earnestly. “You showed me that a person can live the toughest life even in the most difficult circumstances.”

The car drove slowly through the snow, and it was pitch black outside the window. But in Yang Wei's heart, a light shone.

“Marshal Ye,” he said, “congratulations. Really.”

"Thank you, Brother Yang Wei."

After hanging up the phone, Yang Wei placed it on the passenger seat. Zhang Jianjiang was fast asleep next to him, snoring loudly, with drool at the corner of his mouth.

Yang Wei glanced at him and smiled.

He suddenly remembered the first time he met Marshal Ye many years ago. Marshal Ye was still a child then, brought back from a jeep by Ye Yuze. He was so thin that only his two big eyes remained, filled with curiosity about everything. Yang Wei had just returned from Africa, covered in wounds, his heart empty.

Two wounded men met in the courtyard of the military reclamation town.

Marshal Ye asked him, "Have you been to Africa? Are there lions there?"

He said, "Yes."

Marshal Ye asked again, "Are you afraid?"

He said, "I'm not afraid."

Marshal Ye thought for a moment and said, "Then I'm not afraid."

At that time, Yang Wei thought, "This kid is really stupid."

Now he thinks, this kid is really something.

The car continued driving. The snow lessened, and the wind died down. On the distant horizon, a faint light could be seen—the lights of the military reclamation city.

Yang Wei stepped on the gas and sped up.

Ye Yuze was woken up by the ringing of the telephone.

It wasn't the landline on the bedside table, it was a cell phone. He fumbled for it, picked it up, and saw it was Ye Feng's phone.

"Dad," Ye Feng said urgently, "something has happened."

Ye Yuze sat up abruptly. Yu'e also woke up. She looked at him, said nothing, and simply placed her hand on his back.

"what's up?"

"A construction site in Korla collapsed. Three people were buried. One has been rescued, and two are still trapped underneath."

Ye Yuze's head buzzed. The construction site in Korla was the Ye Group's biggest project this year, with an investment of over a billion yuan. If someone died, it wouldn't just be a matter of losing money; the entire project could be halted.

"I'll be right there," he said as he got out of bed.

Yu'e was already up and was getting him his clothes. She didn't ask anything, just silently handed him the clothes, one by one, just like she did every morning.

"Be careful on the road," she said, that was all.

Ye Yuze finished dressing and glanced back at her as he reached the door. Yu'e stood at the bedroom door, wearing her old cotton pajamas, her hair disheveled, and her face still sleepy.

“Yu’e,” he said, “I’m sorry I woke you up.”

Yu'e shook her head: "Don't say sorry. Go ahead, and be careful."

Ye Yuze turned to leave, then stopped.

“Can you call Yang Wei for me?” he said. “Tell him to go to Korla too. He knows the construction site better than I do.”

"it is good."

Ye Yuze went outside; it was still dark. The snow had stopped, the wind had died down, and the air was as cold as a knife. He got into the car, where the driver was already waiting.

“Korla,” he said, “quickly.”

As he started the car, his phone rang again. This time it was Ye Mao.

“Dad, I’m already on my way. I’ve looked into the situation in Korla. The landslide occurred in a foundation pit, twelve meters deep. The rescue team has already gone in, but progress is very slow because the geological conditions are too poor.”

Ye Yuze closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

Have the family members been notified?

"Not yet. I'm waiting for your opinion."

"What are you waiting for? Notify us immediately. Apologize where necessary, compensate where necessary. Don't haggle, don't shirk responsibility."

"Got it, Dad."

After hanging up the phone, Ye Yuze looked out the car window at the night scene. The streets of Junken City were deserted, with only streetlights lit, one after another, stretching into the distance.

He recalled an incident many years ago, when he had just started his business. At that time, he was working on a project in Beijing when the scaffolding collapsed, injuring several workers.

He was young then, and his first reaction was to shirk responsibility, saying it was the construction team's fault, the materials' fault, or the weather's fault.

It was Yu'e who scolded him awake.

“You’re a man,” she said. “If something goes wrong, you have to take responsibility. Even if you didn’t do it, it’s still your responsibility. Passing the buck like this, are you even human?”

That was the only time Yu'e ever got angry with him. He remembered it.

The car entered the highway and picked up speed. Ye Yuze leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes. He wasn't asleep; he was thinking.

He personally visited the construction site in Korla. The geological conditions were indeed poor, with a high water table and loose soil.

Before construction began, he specifically invited experts to conduct a feasibility study, and the plan was revised three times. But some things, no matter how careful you are, will still happen.

His phone rang again. This time it was Ayijiang.

"Uncle Ye, I'm in Korla. I've arrived at the scene. The two workers who were buried, one is from Sichuan, in his early forties; the other is from Gansu, in his fifties. Their families are on their way."

Ye Yuze's heart sank.

They were in their early forties, some even over fifty. They all had families to support. He recalled his own youth, when he too had toiled and struggled on construction sites.

He knew that kind of fear—the dark, heavy mud pressing down on you, making it hard to breathe, being unable to see anything, and all you could do was wait.

"How long will the rescue take?" he asked.

"It's hard to say. The geological conditions are too poor, so we dare not use heavy machinery for fear of secondary collapse. Right now, we are relying entirely on manual excavation, and progress is very slow."

“Tell them,” Ye Yuze’s voice lowered, “at all costs. No matter how much it costs, get them out.”

"Understood, Uncle Ye."

After hanging up the phone, Ye Yuze opened his eyes. The sky outside the window was beginning to brighten, and a faint orange-red hue appeared on the eastern horizon.

He remembered last night, when Yu'e nestled against his chest and said, "I'm at peace now." He remembered her saying, "Three people can be companions too."

He suddenly realized that no matter what happened in his life, he was not afraid. Because someone was waiting for him to come home.

五

When Yang Wei arrived in Korla, it was already broad daylight.

He parked his car outside the construction site and saw chaos as soon as he got out. The site was cordoned off, and police cars, fire trucks, and ambulances were parked in a row.

Rescue team members came and went, each with a tense expression on their face.

Ye Fei stood beside the police line, his face grim. He saw Yang Wei and strode over.

"Brother Yang Wei."

"how is the situation?"

"It's not good. One has been rescued, with a broken leg, but his life is not in danger. There are still two down there, about eight meters below the ground. We can hear their voices, but we can't dig any deeper—the soil is too loose, and every layer we dig collapses."

Yang Wei walked to the edge of the pit and looked down. The pit was deep, surrounded by soft soil, and could collapse at any moment. The rescue team was digging in the most primitive way—with shovels, spades, and even their bare hands.

"Can't we use large machinery?" Yang Wei asked.

"It can't be used." The person in charge at the site shook his head. "It will collapse as soon as it's used. We've already tried it."

Yang Wei squatted down and looked at the soil at the bottom of the pit. He remembered encountering a similar situation when he was in Africa.

It was a gold mine collapse that buried more than a dozen miners. They spent three days and three nights rescuing them all.

“Let’s change the plan,” he stood up. “Use sheet piles for support. Drive them down layer by layer, digging out each layer as you go. Slower, but safer.”

The person in charge looked at him: "Sheet piles? Where are those here—"

“I’ve already had someone send it,” Yang Wei said. “I called on the way here. It will arrive within two hours.”

The person in charge paused for a moment, then smiled.

"Mr. Yang, you're really something."

Yang Wei didn't laugh. He looked at the pit, thinking about the two people buried underneath.

In his early forties, or even his fifties.

They all have families.

Two hours later, the sheet piles arrived. The rescue team began driving the piles in, one sheet after another being driven into the ground with a dull thud. With each pile driven, the workers dug down a layer. The pace was slow, but steady.

Ye Yuze arrived as well. He stood at the edge of the pit, watching the rescue efforts below, without saying a word.

Yang Wei walked over and stood next to him.

"Uncle Ye."

Ye Yuze nodded without looking at him.

"how is the situation?"

"It's stable. At the current speed, it will probably take another four to six hours."

Ye Yuze was silent for a moment. Then he said in a low voice, "Yang Wei, do you think I shouldn't have taken on such a large project?"

Yang Wei was stunned for a moment.

"We've expanded too much; we can't manage it all." Ye Yuze's voice was very soft, as if he were talking to himself:

"I personally inspected the Korla project three times. I thought there were no problems each time. But something still went wrong."

Yang Wei thought for a moment and said, "Uncle Ye, this is not your fault. No one can guarantee anything about geological conditions."

"Whose fault is that?" Ye Yuze turned to look at him, his eyes bloodshot. "It's my project, my construction site, my people. If something goes wrong, it's my fault."

Yang Wei did not speak.

He understood Ye Yuze's feelings. A man carrying such a heavy burden, when something goes wrong, his first thought is of his own responsibility. This kind of pressure is something outsiders can't understand.

“Uncle Ye,” he said, “the most important thing right now is not to pursue responsibility, but to rescue the person. Once the person is rescued, compensation should be paid where necessary, and changes should be made where necessary. We can talk about the rest later.”

Ye Yuze looked at him and remained silent for a long time.

Then he nodded.

"you're right."

The rescue operation lasted five and a half hours.

At 2:17 p.m., the first buried worker was dug out. His legs were trapped under the collapsed earth and rocks, but he was still conscious.

As the rescue team lifted him onto a stretcher, he kept calling out, "My wife, my wife—"

“Your wife is on her way,” a rescue worker said, shaking his hand. “Hang in there a little longer.”

The second worker who was buried was unconscious when he was dug out. He had been hit on the head by a rock and was bleeding heavily. Ye Yuze ran a few steps behind the ambulance as it took him away.

"We must save him!" he shouted, "No matter the cost!"

The doctor leaned out of the car window and nodded.

At four o'clock in the afternoon, Ye Yuze sat in a chair in the construction site office, smoking one cigarette after another. His hands were covered in mud.

He went down to help just now, even though others tried to stop him. A sixty-year-old man, he dug in the foundation pit for two hours.

Ye Mao walked in carrying a glass of water.

"Dad, have some water."

Ye Yuze took the water glass and took a sip. The water was lukewarm, neither too hot nor too cold.

He paused for a moment, then looked at Ye Mao.

"You added the honey?"

Ye Feng shook his head: "No. It's just plain water."

Ye Yuze looked at the glass of water and suddenly smiled.

He thought of Yu'e. He remembered her getting up in the middle of the night to pour him honey water, he remembered her saying, "You get thirsty after drinking alcohol," and he remembered her getting up every hour to pour out the cold water and refill it with warm water.

The boiled water was also lukewarm. It wasn't poured by Yu'e, but it was still lukewarm.

"Dad, what are you laughing at?" Ye Mao asked, looking puzzled.

"It's nothing," Ye Yuze put down his water glass. "Your mom must be worried sick at home. Give her a call and tell her everything's alright."

"it is good."

Ye Mao went out to make a phone call. Ye Yuze leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes.

It's dark outside the window again. He's been through so much today, from dawn till now. But right now, all he feels is exhaustion and all he wants is to go home.

He remembered last night, when Yu'e nestled against his chest and said, "I'm at peace now." He remembered the jasmine plant, the moonlight outside the window, and the stars.

He wanted to go home.

It was already late at night when Yang Wei returned to the military reclamation city.

He parked his car downstairs but didn't get out immediately. He sat in the driver's seat, watching the snow outside. The snow started falling again, lightly, fine and dense, shimmering under the streetlights.

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

"Son, Dad accomplished something again today."

This time, the reply came very quickly.

"what's up?"

Yang Wei thought for a moment, typed a few words, deleted them, typed a few more, and deleted them again. Finally, he sent this message:

"It saved two lives."

After a long time, Yang Chenglong's reply came.

It wasn't text, it was an audio message. Yang Wei clicked to listen, and Yang Chenglong's voice came from the phone:
"Dad, you saved two lives today, and I got third place in the class. We're both pretty awesome."

Yang Wei smiled.

He listened to the audio again, and then listened to it again.

Then he got out of the car and went into the building. One of the lights in the hallway was broken, but the others were on. He went upstairs, opened the door, and found the room dark; Yang Geyong was already asleep.

He tiptoed into his room and lay down on the bed.

Outside the window, the snow was still falling in the military reclamation city.

But Yang Wei felt warm inside.

He recalled what Marshal Ye had said: "A person can live the toughest life even in the most difficult circumstances."

He recalled Ye Yuze digging in the foundation pit, a sixty-year-old man with his hands covered in mud.

He recalled what Habulli had said: "It's not 'should,' it's 'willing.'"

He closed his eyes and slowly fell asleep.

This time, he wasn't dreaming.

Outside the window, the snow was still falling. But the lights of the military reclamation town remained lit, one by one. (End of Chapter)