Great Power Reclamation

Yang Chenglong didn't sleep all night.

It wasn't excitement, it was lingering fear. Lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, the scene in that alleyway kept replaying in my mind—

The sound of his fist slamming into Bakhtiar's nose, the dull thud of bones breaking, was like a dry twig being snapped underfoot.

He wasn't afraid of hitting people, but he was afraid of one thing: if Bakhtiar hadn't only brought two bodyguards that night, if those two men had knives on their waists, if his punch had missed and shattered his eye socket or temple—he might not have come back.

What will Lin Wanwan do if she can't come back?
This question was like a needle, pricking his brain repeatedly until he finally drifted off to sleep at dawn.

The next morning, he was woken up by his phone vibrating. It was a video call from Lin Wanwan.

He rubbed his eyes and answered the call. On the screen, Lin Wanwan was wearing pajamas, her hair casually tied up, and she had faint dark circles under her eyes.

She stared at Yang Chenglong for a few seconds without saying a word.

"What's wrong?" Yang Chenglong's voice was a little hoarse.

"Didn't you sleep well last night?" Lin Wanwan asked.

"She's asleep. Sleeping very well."

"You look to the left when you lie."

Yang Chenglong quickly shifted his gaze back to the center of the screen.

“Yang Chenglong,” Lin Wanwan’s voice was soft but serious, “tell me the truth. What exactly happened last night?”

Yang Chenglong was silent for a few seconds. He didn't want to lie to her, but he also didn't want her to worry.

“I have met Bakhtiar.”

"and then?"

"I talked to him."

"What did you talk about?"

"We talked about why he sent someone to Hangzhou. We talked about his grandfather's phone number. We talked about when he would return to Almaty."

Lin Wanwan stared at him for a long time.

"You hit him."

It's not a question, it's a statement.

Yang Chenglong remained silent.

“You hit him,” Lin Wanwan repeated, “Are you hurt?”

No. He's injured.

Lin Wanwan closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and then opened them again.

"Yang Chenglong, promise me one thing."

"what?"

"Don't go alone again. At least invite Ye Guigen. At least invite one other person."

Yang Chenglong thought for a moment. "I'll invite him next time."

"There will be a next time?"

"That's all. I promise."

Lin Wanwan looked at him for a few more seconds, then sighed.

“Your grandfather called my dad yesterday.”

Yang Chenglong's heart leaped into his throat. "What did he say?"

"Let's talk about the engagement." Lin Wanwan's voice was a little unsteady. "My dad said he wants to see you."

Yang Chenglong sat up straight. "When?"

"Fly to Hangzhou next weekend."

Yang Chenglong scratched his head. "I have my final exams next weekend."

"Then come back after you've finished the exam."

"After the exams, it'll be Christmas break. I'm going to Hangzhou during Christmas break."

Lin Wanwan nodded and remained silent for a while.

"Yang Chenglong, are you nervous?"

"I'm not nervous."

"You're lying again. Your ears are red."

Yang Chenglong reached out and touched his ear; it was indeed hot.

I'm a little nervous.

Lin Wanwan smiled. It wasn't a happy smile, but a helpless smile that said, "I knew it."

"My parents aren't tigers. They won't eat you."

“I know. But I’m afraid they won’t agree.”

Lin Wanwan looked at him, her eyes filled with something indescribable.

"Whether they agree or not, I will marry you."

Yang Chenglong was stunned.

"What did you say?"

“I said, I will marry you whether they agree or not.”

Lin Wanwan's voice was very calm, as if she were talking about something very ordinary.

"Yang Chenglong, in this life, I, Lin Wanwan, only recognize you. Whether you are poor or rich, whether you are in London or in the military reclamation city, I only recognize you."

Yang Chenglong gripped his phone, his fingers trembling. Not with anger, but with excitement.

"Wanwan, I—"

"Don't talk," Lin Wanwan interrupted him. "You should heal the wound on your lip first, finish your final exams, and process the 'Pegasus' orders before you talk to me like this."

“Your face is covered in bandages, your hair is a mess, and your eyes are as red as a rabbit’s. I don’t want to hear anything you say.”

Yang Chenglong looked down at his reflection on the screen and realized it wasn't exactly presentable.

"Okay. I'll recover from my injury. I'll take my exams. I'll process the orders. Then I'll go to Hangzhou to see your parents."

"Okay. I'll wait for you."

After hanging up the video call, Yang Chenglong sat on the bed, stunned for a long time.

Then he stood up, took a shower, shaved, and changed into clean clothes.

I looked at myself in the mirror—the gauze on the corner of my mouth was still there, and the bruise on my left cheek hadn't faded yet, but at least I didn't look like a homeless person anymore.

He went out of the room, where Hans was having breakfast in the living room, with bread and sausage, and a cup of black coffee next to him.

“You look different today,” Hans said, looking him over.

"What's different?"

"It's like going to a job interview."

Yang Chenglong ignored him, went out the door, and went to the library.

There are two weeks left until the final exams. He has fallen behind in many classes and needs to catch up.

For the next two weeks, Yang Chenglong locked himself in the library.

I went in at eight in the morning and came out at ten at night, and except for meals and bathroom breaks, I never left my chair. I studied accounting, corporate finance, and marketing, one subject after another.

He flipped through his notes again and again, and did set after set of exercises. His mind wasn't as quick as Ye Guigen's, but he had one advantage—he could sit still for long periods.

Others get bored after watching for two hours, but he can watch for six hours, only drinking a cup of water in between.

Ye Guigen visited him several times, and each time he saw him slumped over the table, his hair a mess like a bird's nest, with a stack of books and notebooks in front of him.

"Are you alright?" Ye Guigen asked.

"Not bad." Yang Chenglong looked up, his eyes even more bloodshot than last time.

"How long has it been since you last slept?"

"I slept last night. I slept for four hours."

Four hours is not enough.

“That’s enough. My grandfather worked on the Gobi Desert for three days and three nights without sleeping, and he still managed to build roads.”

Ye Guigen shook his head and didn't try to persuade him further. He knew Yang Chenglong; once he made up his mind about something, no one could change it.

He placed a cup of coffee on the table. "Here you go. Americano, no sugar, no milk."

Yang Chenglong picked up the glass and took a sip. He frowned at the bitterness but didn't say anything.

Ye Guigen sat down opposite him and also took out a book to read.

The two sat facing each other, each reading a book, neither speaking. The library was quiet, save for the sounds of turning pages and the distant hum of a printer.

Sunlight streamed in through the window, falling on their books and their hands.

On the afternoon of the day he finished his last exam, Yang Chenglong walked out of the exam room, stood at the entrance of the teaching building, and took a deep breath.

London in December was bitterly cold. But the sun shone brightly, its blue as if it had been washed clean.

He took out his phone and sent Lin Wanwan a message: "Exams are over. Flying to Hangzhou tomorrow."

The reply came quickly: "Okay. I'll come pick you up."

He sent Ye Guigen another message: "Exams are over. Going to Hangzhou tomorrow. Want to come with me?"

"I'm not going. I have something to do. Call me when you get there." "What is it?"

"Elizabeth's father invited me to dinner."

Yang Chenglong looked at the line of text and smiled. He remembered Ye Guigen saying that being invited to dinner by Mr. Cavendish was more tiring than taking an exam.

He put his phone away, went back to his dorm, and started packing his luggage.

The next morning, Yang Chenglong flew to Hangzhou.

Lin Wanwan was waiting for him at the arrival gate. She was wearing a white down jacket, a gray "Pegasus" scarf, and her hair was loose and slightly messy from the wind.

When she saw Yang Chenglong come out, she didn't run over to him, but stood there and smiled at him.

Yang Chenglong dragged his suitcase over and stood in front of her.

“You’ve lost weight,” he said.

"You too." Lin Wanwan reached out and touched the gauze at the corner of his mouth. "Were the stitches removed?"

"It was demolished yesterday."

"Does it still hurt?"

"It doesn't hurt anymore."

The two looked at each other for a few seconds. Then Lin Wanwan reached out and took his arm.

"Let's go. My dad's waiting at home."

Yang Chenglong's heart started racing again.

Lin Wanwan's home was in an old apartment building, on the sixth floor, without an elevator. Yang Chenglong carried his suitcase up the stairs, and by the time he reached the door, sweat was already beading on his forehead.

I don't know if it was from climbing the stairs that I was tired, or from being nervous.

The door opened. Lin's mother stood in the doorway, wearing a maroon sweater, her hair permed, and her expression was much more polite than last time.

"You're here? Come in."

"Hello Auntie."

Yang Chenglong handed over the gifts he was carrying—two "Pegasus" scarves, one dark blue and one light gray, packaged in a gift box and tied with a ribbon.

"This is a new style this year, made of pure wool."

Lin's mother took the gift box and opened it this time. She took out the dark blue one, touched it, and nodded.

"The quality is good."

Mr. Lin was sitting on the sofa with a newspaper in his hand. When he saw Yang Chenglong come in, he put down the newspaper and took off his glasses.

"sit down."

Yang Chenglong sat down. Lin Wanwan sat next to him. Lin's mother brought out tea and sat down opposite him.

The four people sat facing each other, with several plates of fruit and melon seeds on the coffee table. The atmosphere was much better than last time, but that subtle tension was still there.

“Jackie Chan,” Mr. Lin spoke first, “your grandfather called me last time and talked about your engagement. I’d like to hear your thoughts.”

Yang Chenglong sat up straight.

"Uncle, I want to be with Wanwan. It's not just a passing impulse, it's the kind of relationship I want to spend my whole life with."

Lin's father looked at him without saying a word.

“I know I’m still studying and don’t have much money, and ‘Tianma’ is just starting out. But I can promise one thing—I won’t let Wanwan suffer.”

“She’s suffering with me now. She’s managing the company alone in China, and she has to shoulder everything herself. I know that.”

Mr. Lin picked up his teacup, took a sip, and put it down.

"Your grandfather said your family owns a horse farm in XJ?"

Yang Chenglong hesitated for a moment. He didn't want to mention the oil field; it belonged to Yang Geyong, not him.

"Yes. My grandfather raised Akhal-Teke horses."

How much money can you make raising horses?

Yang Chenglong opened his mouth, unsure how to answer. How much could a horse sell for? Hundreds of thousands? Millions? He truly had no idea.

Lin Wanwan came to his rescue. "Dad, why are you asking these questions?"

"I'm just asking about his family situation, what's wrong with that?" Mr. Lin's voice rose. "He's going to marry my daughter, and I can't even ask him what his family does?"

“Uncle,” Yang Chenglong quickly said, “My family’s horse farm can earn several million a year. But I don’t rely on my family. ‘Tianma’ is something Wanwan and I did together, without spending a single penny of my family’s money.”

That was only partly true. Was the £50,000 Ye Guigen invested considered family or friends' money? He couldn't say for sure.

But he felt that there were some things he didn't need to say in too much detail in front of his future father-in-law.

Mr. Lin looked at him and remained silent for a while.

"Jackie Chan, it's not that I think you're poor. It's that I'm afraid."

His voice lowered, "Wanwan suffered so much in Paris, and she finally settled down after coming back. I don't want her to get hurt again."

"Uncle, I won't let her get hurt."

What guarantees do you have?

Yang Chenglong opened his mouth, but couldn't speak. He wanted to say, "I swear on my life," but felt it was too sentimental.

He wanted to say, "I have the ability to protect her," but it sounded like bragging.

Lin Wanwan stood up, walked to Yang Chenglong's side, and took his hand.

"Dad, I don't need his guarantee. I chose this person myself, and I will take responsibility for it."

Mr. Lin looked at his daughter, then at Yang Chenglong, and sighed.

"Let's eat." He stood up. "Your aunt made braised fish."

Lin's mother stood up and walked towards the kitchen. Reaching the kitchen doorway, she turned back and glanced at Yang Chenglong.

"Jackie Chan, come in and help me serve the dishes."

Yang Chenglong paused for a moment, then stood up and followed Lin's mother into the kitchen.

The kitchen wasn't big; soup was simmering on the stove, fish was steaming in the steamer, and chopped vegetables were laid out on the cutting board. Lin's mother handed him a bowl of soup and said something in a low voice.

"Jackie Chan, Wanwan's dad is just being stubborn. He actually approves of you two."

Yang Chenglong, holding the soup, was stunned.

"Really?"

“Really. The night your grandfather called him, he talked to me all night.”

"He said that although this young man's family is wealthy, he doesn't rely on them and does things on his own. He has integrity. He's just too impulsive. His lip injury hasn't healed yet, and he's already back in Hangzhou."

Yang Chenglong scratched his head sheepishly.

"Auntie, I won't fight anymore."

Lin's mother glanced at him and smiled.

"Wanwan's father said the same thing back then. He's been saying it for decades and hasn't changed his mind."

Yang Chenglong carried the soup out of the kitchen, feeling much more at ease.

After dinner, Lin Wanwan walked Yang Chenglong downstairs. The two walked in the residential area, the orange light of the streetlights casting long shadows on the ground.

“Your parents don’t seem to object,” Yang Chenglong said.

“My dad is tough on the outside but soft on the inside.” Lin Wanwan took his arm.

“He said, if you dare to bully me, he will take a knife to the military reclamation city and settle accounts with your grandfather.”

Yang Chenglong laughed. "Could your dad beat my grandpa? My grandpa could take on three of them by himself back in the day."

"My dad said, if you can't beat someone, you should reason with them."

"You can't win an argument with my grandfather. He served in the army for thirty years, and he could make people cry with his reasoning."

Lin Wanwan laughed. After laughing, she stopped and looked at Yang Chenglong.

"Jackie Chan, are you really not going to fight anymore?"

Yang Chenglong thought for a moment.

"Try not to fight."

"Try your best?"

"If anyone touches you, I will still hit them."

Lin Wanwan looked into his eyes for a long time.

“You,” she said, “I can’t do anything with you.”

Yang Chenglong looked at her; the streetlight shone on her face, and her eyes shone.

He reached out and pulled her into his arms.

The two stood under the streetlight and hugged for a long time.

In the distance, the night sky over Hangzhou was devoid of stars; the lights were too bright. But Yang Chenglong knew that eight thousand kilometers away, in the Junken City, the night sky was filled with stars.

Those stars were lights lit by his grandfather.

Now, he has a lamp too.

That lamp is named Lin Wanwan.

(To be continued) (End of this chapter)