Great Power Reclamation

The flight from Aktau back to London required a layover in Almaty. Ye Guigen and Yang Chenglong hadn't originally planned to stop in Almaty.

However, the airline informed them that the flight to London was delayed for a full day due to a snowstorm in Astana.

"Let's stay here for one night then." Ye Guigen scrolled through his phone in the airport waiting area. "Find a hotel and leave tomorrow."

Yang Chenglong had no objections. The two hailed a taxi and headed from the airport towards the city center.

Almaty is the most prosperous city in Kazakhstan. At the foot of snow-capped mountains, the streets are wide, and in winter, the snow piled up on both sides of the road is dazzling when illuminated by car headlights.

They checked into a hotel in the city center; it wasn't luxurious, but it was clean and warm. After checking in, the two went out to find something to eat. The hotel receptionist recommended a local restaurant, saying they made excellent hand-pulled rice and baked buns.

The restaurant was located in a small alley; the storefront was small, but the inside was bustling. Ye Guigen and Yang Chenglong found a corner to sit down and ordered hand-pulled rice, baked buns, and two bowls of mutton soup.

While waiting for the food, Yang Chenglong's phone rang. It was a video message from Lin Wanwan.

"Where are you? This background doesn't look like London." Lin Wanwan had sharp eyes.

"Almaty. My flight is delayed. I'll stay one night and return tomorrow."

Almaty? What are you going there for?

Yang Chenglong hesitated for a moment. "Look at my grandfather's oil field."

Lin Wanwan paused for a moment, but didn't press the matter. She was a smart girl and knew that Yang Chenglong would speak for himself when he wanted to.

Be careful. Come back soon.

"understood."

The video call ended, and the hand-grabbed rice arrived. Just as the two were about to eat, a few people entered the restaurant.

Leading the way was a young man in his early twenties, wearing a black leather jacket, with his hair slicked back and a gleaming gold chain around his neck.

He was followed by three burly men, all dressed in black suits, who were clearly bodyguards.

The young man spoke a few words to the waiter in Russian, his gaze sweeping around the restaurant before finally settling on Yang Chenglong and Ye Guigen.

He stared at Yang Chenglong for a few seconds, then smiled. It wasn't a friendly smile; it was the smile of a hunter seeing his prey.

He walked straight over and stood in front of Yang Chenglong's table.

"A Chinese?" he asked in English, his pronunciation heavily emphasized.

Yang Chenglong looked up. "Yes."

"Surname Yang?"

Yang Chenglong paused for a moment. He didn't recognize the man, but the man knew his surname.

"who are you?"

The young man pulled out a chair and sat down opposite them. Three bodyguards stood behind him, like three walls.

“My name is Bakhtiar Akkore.” The young man took out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, pulled one out, lit it, and slowly exhaled a smoke ring.

“My grandfather was Akko Kerei. Your grandfather was Yang Geyong.”

Yang Chenglong put down his chopsticks and looked at the other person.

"You know my grandfather?"

“I don’t know him. But my grandfather does.” Bakhtiar flicked his cigarette ash onto the ground.

“My grandfather said that he and Yang Geyong developed this oil field together. He provided the land, and Yang Geyong provided the money.”

"Later, Yang Geyong used tricks to dilute my grandfather's shares little by little. Now my grandfather only owns two percent, and he doesn't even have any say in the matter."

Yang Chenglong paused for a moment. "I don't know anything about these things. I just came to take a look."

"Take a look?" Bakhtiar laughed. "You think you can just leave after you've seen it all?"

Ye Guigen remained silent. He picked up the bowl of mutton soup, took a sip, and then slowly put the bowl down.

"So what do you want?" Ye Guigen's voice wasn't loud, but it was steady.

Bakhtiar turned to look at him. "Who are you?"

"His brother," Ye Guigen said, "I'm asking you, what do you want?"

Bakhtiar stubbed out his cigarette on the table, leaving a charred mark.

“I’d like to buy you a drink. How can you come to Almaty without having a drink?” He stood up. “I have a private room upstairs. Let’s go.”

This was clearly a trap. Yang Chenglong glanced at Ye Guigen, who nodded slightly.

"Okay." Yang Chenglong stood up. "Let's have a drink."

Bakhtiar smiled. He turned and walked upstairs, followed by three bodyguards. Ye Guigen and Yang Chenglong exchanged a glance and followed him.

Upstairs is a large VIP room with sofas, a wine cabinet, and a long table. A huge tapestry hangs on the wall, depicting the national emblem of Kazakhstan.

Bakhtiar sat down on the sofa, crossing his legs. A bodyguard opened a bottle of vodka and poured three glasses.

“Sit down.” Bakhtiar gestured to the sofa opposite him.

Yang Chenglong and Ye Guigen sat down. Vodka was placed in front of them, but neither of them touched it.

“Yang Chenglong,” Bakhtiar picked up his glass and took a sip:
“My grandfather said that Yang Geyong owes him an explanation. The shares from back then shouldn’t have just disappeared like that. Now that Yang Geyong is old, and you are his grandson, you have to give him an explanation for this matter.”

Yang Chenglong looked at the other person. "What's your explanation?"

“Simple.” Bakhtiar put down his glass. “Give my grandfather 15 percent of the oil field shares. He originally owned 30 percent, but you guys reduced it to only 2 percent. Giving him 15 percent isn’t unreasonable, is it?”

The private room was silent for a few seconds.

Ye Guigen spoke up. "Fifteen percent of the shares, based on the current valuation, are roughly five to seven hundred million US dollars. Do you think your grandfather is worth that much?"

Bakhtiar's expression changed. "What do you mean?"

"What I mean is, back then, your grandfather provided the land, and my grandfather provided the money. Exploration, well drilling, equipment, labor—all the money came from Yang Geyong."

"What did your grandfather give up? A desert. Geologists said there was no oil in that desert, and nobody wanted it. It was my grandfather who said, 'Let's drill a well here.' He drilled for five years, losing twenty million US dollars, before finally striking oil. Did your grandfather spend a single penny during those five years?"

Bakhtiar's expression grew increasingly grim.

"Your grandfather's shares were diluted because he did not participate in the capital increase."

Ye Guigen's voice was unhurried, like answering a question in class:

"To expand production, the oil field needs additional investment. If your grandfather can't come up with the money, his shares will naturally be diluted. This is a business rule, not some kind of trickery."

Bakhtiar stood up, his facial muscles twitching slightly.

"Who do you think you are? I'm talking to Yang Chenglong, what right do you have to interrupt?"

Yang Chenglong also stood up and stood in front of Ye Guigen.

"What he said is exactly what I wanted to say." Yang Chenglong's voice wasn't loud, but it was firm:
“Bakhtiar, I don’t know everything about my grandfather. But I do know one thing—he never took advantage of anyone in his life, nor did he let anyone take advantage of him. Go back and find out how your grandfather’s shares were diluted before you come back to me.”

Bakhtiar stared at him for a few seconds, then laughed. It was a chilling laugh.

"Okay. Very good." He turned and walked towards the door, then stopped and turned back. "Yang Chenglong, this is Kazakhstan, not China. Be careful here."

Yang Chenglong stood up and stared directly at this arrogant guy:
"No matter where I am, I'm not afraid of someone like you. Show me what you've got, do you think I'm afraid of you?"

Ye Guigen also stood up. Although he was shorter than Ye Guigen, his body was like a sharp knife, exuding a chill.

Although Bakhtiar was accompanied by three capable bodyguards, he felt intimidated by the two Chinese men for some reason.

He thought for a moment and asked, "Your surname is Ye? Your grandfather was Ye Yuze?"

Ye Guigen nodded: "You still know my grandfather?"

Bakhyar shrank back, remembering his grandfather's instructions: "You can mess with Yang Geyong, but you absolutely cannot mess with his brother Ye Yuze."

"Offending Yang Geyong might only get you a beating, but Ye Yuze could make you wish you were dead!" Because of this, Bakhtiar even checked Ye Yuze's background, and then realized that his grandfather was right and gave up the idea.

Now that Ye Yuze's grandson had come along, he needed to think it over carefully before quickly opening the door and leaving.

The door closed. Only Ye Guigen and Yang Chenglong remained in the private room.

Neither of them spoke. After a few seconds of silence, Yang Chenglong picked up the glass of vodka and downed it in one gulp. The strong liquor burned his throat, causing him to cough twice.

Ye Guigen also picked up his glass, took a sip, and frowned. "This wine is really awful."

Yang Chenglong put down his cup and looked at him. "How did you know all that you were saying? What capital increase, dilution, how do you know more about it than I do?"

Ye Guigen leaned back on the sofa. "I checked before I came. Public records show the equity change history of Grandpa Yang's oil field."

“The Akkolie family’s shares dropped from 30 percent to 2 percent between 1999 and 2005, each time due to dilution from not participating in capital increases.”

Why are you investigating these things?

"Because your grandfather is my grandfather's old brother," Ye Guigen said. "I don't want you to be deceived."

Yang Chenglong lowered his head and remained silent for a long time.

"Ultimately, what do you think Bakhtiar will do?"

“I don’t know.” Ye Guigen stood up. “But what he said—‘This is Kazakhstan’—wasn’t a compliment. We have to be careful.”

The two returned to the hotel, and Ye Guigen called Ye Feng to briefly explain the situation.

After listening, Ye Feng remained silent for a few seconds.

Which hotel are you staying at?

Ye Guigen gave his name.

"Don't go out. I'll send someone to pick you up."

"Need not--"

"This is not a discussion." Ye Feng hung up the phone.

Forty minutes later, a black Mercedes-Benz van pulled up in front of the hotel.

The driver was a middle-aged Kazakh man, wearing a dark jacket. He looked ordinary, but his eyes were sharp.

"Mr. Ye? Mr. Yang?" he asked in standard Mandarin. "Get in the car. I'll take you to the airport."

Our flight is tomorrow—

"It's changed. There's a flight to London tonight with a layover in Frankfurt. It's already booked."

Ye Guigen glanced at Yang Chenglong. Yang Chenglong nodded.

The two men got into the car. Less than ten minutes later, Yang Chenglong saw in the rearview mirror that two black SUVs were following behind. It wasn't tailing; it was escorting them.

"Ye Feng's men?" Yang Chenglong asked.

"It should be," Ye Guigen said.

The car arrived at the airport. The driver helped them check in and escorted them to the security checkpoint. Before parting, the driver handed Yang Chenglong an envelope.

"Mr. Yang, this is what Mr. Yang Geyong asked me to give to you."

Yang Chenglong took the envelope, but before he could open it, Ye Guigen pulled him through security.

On the plane, Yang Chenglong opened the envelope. Inside was a piece of paper with Yang Geyong's handwriting on it, crooked and messy, but every stroke was powerful.

Jackie Chan:
You don't need to worry about Akkokore's affairs. He wouldn't dare to touch you.

His grandson, Bakhtiar, right? A good-for-nothing. Don't bother with him.

Your grandpa has never been afraid of anyone in his life. You don't need to be afraid either.

Remember, you are Yang Geyong's grandson. Stand up straight when you speak.

grandfather"

Yang Chenglong read the letter three times, then carefully folded it and put it in his pocket.

"What did you write?" Ye Guigen asked.

"Let me speak with my back straight."

Ye Guigen laughed. "Your grandfather is a very direct person."

Yang Chenglong laughed too. "That's just how he is."

The plane took off. The lights of Almaty grew smaller and smaller outside the porthole, finally disappearing into the darkness.

Yang Chenglong leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes.

He remembered Bakhtiar's eyes, the three bodyguards in black suits, and that awful glass of vodka.

He wasn't afraid. Not because he wasn't afraid, but because he knew someone was behind him.

Ye Guigen, Ye Feng, Yang Geyong, and Ye Yuze, who is far away in London.

Those men were much tougher than Bakhtiar's three bodyguards.

It was already the afternoon of the second day when we got back to London.

Yang Chenglong called Lin Wanwan to let her know he was safe. Then he sat in his dorm room and started writing something. It wasn't homework; it was a letter.

To whom is this written? To my future self.

He wrote in the letter:
"Today, someone tried to make me bow my head. I didn't. Because my grandfather said that the Yang family members stand tall."

"I don't know how many more people or things like this I'll encounter in the future. But I know I won't be afraid. Not because I'm rich, but because I know what I'm doing."

After he finished writing, he folded the letter and tucked it inside the French edition of "The Little Prince".

Then he turned on his computer and began processing "Tianma's" orders.

The third batch of goods from Italy has been reshipped, and the customer is very satisfied. The German e-commerce platform has placed another two hundred orders.

The French fashion blogger contacted Lin Wanwan, wanting to launch another collaboration item, this time a shawl.

Everything is back on track.

Outside the window, the snow in London had stopped. The sky was still gray, but a ray of sunlight peeked through a gap in the clouds, shining brightly on the rooftops opposite.

Looking at the light, Yang Chenglong thought of the snow-capped mountains of Almaty.

The mountain shimmered in the sunlight, like Grandpa's eyes.

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

"Grandpa, I received the letter. I will stand tall."

The reply came quickly, containing only four words.

"That's right."

Yang Chenglong looked at those four words and smiled.

He put his phone on the table and continued processing orders.

The light outside the window grew brighter, and the snow began to melt.

Spring is coming soon.

(To be continued) (End of this chapter)