Great Power Reclamation

Ye Yuze sat in his study, a chessboard in front of him with an unfinished game, but he didn't touch the pieces.

He was waiting for a phone call. Yang Geyong sat opposite him, holding a bowl of hot milk tea, slurping it down loudly, but his eyes weren't on the chessboard; they were fixed on Ye Yuze's face.

"Old Ye, what are you thinking about?" Yang Geyong put down his bowl.

Ye Yuze leaned back in his chair and tapped his fingers lightly on the armrest twice.

“I was thinking that Warrior Group’s new energy vehicles saw another five percent increase in market share in Europe last month.”

Yang Geyong was taken aback. "Didn't you retire? Why are you still concerned with these things?"

"I'm retired, but my eyesight isn't failing."

Ye Yuze stood up and walked to the window. "BMW, Mercedes-Benz, Volkswagen, they all use the engine from the Warrior."

"At Ford's North American plants, motors account for 60% of the components in the Warrior series. In Toyota's hybrid vehicles, batteries account for 40%. This isn't something I manage; it's a tree I planted twenty years ago, and now it's bearing fruit."

Yang Geyong also stood up and walked to his side. "Then why are you unhappy?"

Ye Yuze turned around and looked at him. "I'm not unhappy. I'm worried."

What are you worried about?

"I'm worried that the tree is too big and will attract the wind."

The study was quiet for a few seconds. The old clock on the wall ticked away.

Yang Geyong took out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, pulled one out, and lit it.

"You mean, someone's jealous?"

"It's not envy. It's fear."

Ye Yuze walked back to his desk, took a document out of the drawer, and threw it on the table.

"The EU launched an anti-subsidy investigation into the Warrior Group's new energy vehicles last month. The US Department of Commerce is also investigating the microchips used by Junken Electromechanical, saying they 'threaten national security'."

"In the island nation and South Korea, several major conglomerates jointly petitioned the government, demanding that the warrior group limit its market share."

Yang Geyong picked up the document and flipped through it, his brows furrowing.

"This isn't the idea of ​​just one or two companies. It's a group of people working together."

Ye Yuze nodded. "Four forces, united as one, are going to strangle the soldiers."

"Does Ye Feng know?"

"He knows better than I do."

Ye Yuze sat down. "He's already dealing with it. Brothers Group has launched a public relations campaign simultaneously in Europe and the United States, hiring the best lobbying firms and buying a lot of think tank reports."

Susie is also taking the fall for us in Congress. But this isn't something that can be resolved overnight.

Yang Geyong stubbed out the cigarette in the ashtray.

"Old Ye, do you think the Warrior Group has become too big? So big that it's keeping people up at night?"

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

"Size isn't the problem. The problem is, we're not one of them."

The words were spoken softly, but each one carried weight. Yang Geyong understood.

Warrior Group is a Chinese enterprise, even though Ye Feng is a US citizen, and Warrior Group has factories and R&D centers all over the world.

Although the chips produced by Junken Electromechanical are designed in the United States, manufactured in Taiwan, and packaged in China, in the eyes of those Western politicians, they will always belong to "them," not "us."

"Then what should we do?" Yang Geyong asked.

Ye Yuze picked up a chess piece and twirled it in his hand.

"Two paths. The first is to retreat. Shrink market share, give up some profits, and in return, let them feel at ease."

"And the second one?"

"Don't retreat. Keep charging forward. When they can't stop us anymore, they'll give up."

Yang Geyong thought for a moment. "Which one will Ye Feng choose?"

Ye Yuze looked at him and the corners of his mouth curled up slightly.

He chose the third option.

What is the third point?

"They charge forward while simultaneously yielding. The places they charge are those they can't stop. The places they yield are those they care about most."

Yang Geyong scratched his head. "Can you please stop talking so roundaboutly?"

Ye Yuze smiled. "New energy vehicles, keep pushing forward. Microchips, keep pushing forward. Engines, give way a little."

"Let BMW, Mercedes-Benz, and Volkswagen resume using their own engines in their high-end models, while we focus on mid-to-low-end models. This way, they'll have prestige, and we'll have substance."

Yang Geyong thought for a moment and nodded.

"That's a clever move. But what if they don't buy it?"

"If they don't buy it, let them see another side of the Warriors Group."

Ye Yuze took another document from the drawer and placed it on the table. The cover was printed with a logo—the logo of the Brothers Group, with two mountain peaks standing side by side and a river in the middle.

"The Brothers Group has a total investment of over 80 billion US dollars in Europe and the United States. It directly employs more than 50,000 people."

"The indirect employment created exceeds 200,000 jobs. These figures are not just for show."

Ye Yuze's voice was not loud, but it was deep: "Whoever touches the Warrior Group should think carefully. If these 80 billion US dollars are withdrawn, 50,000 people will lose their jobs, 200,000 people will go hungry, and they will not be able to keep their votes."

Yang Geyong stared at the document in silence for a long time.

"Old Ye, you're putting a knife to their throats."

"It's not a knife. It's a rice bowl."

Ye Yuze put the document away. "When a knife is held to your throat, you'll fight desperately. When your rice bowl is in your hand, you'll hesitate. Once you hesitate, it's easier to talk."

Yang Geyong picked up the bowl of milk tea, which had gone cold, and took a sip.

"You've spent your whole life scheming. Aren't you tired of it?"

Ye Yuze leaned back in his chair, looking at the ceiling.

"I'm tired. But I can't let it go. If it didn't go, the Warriors Group wouldn't be where we are today."

Outside the window, the stars are shining. The night in the military reclamation city is as quiet as a painting.

New York, Manhattan, the same morning.

Ye Feng stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling window in his office, looking at the mouth of the Hudson River.

December in New York was already cold, and the wind blowing from the river carried a salty smell, but the windows of his office were tightly closed, and the central air conditioning maintained a constant temperature of 23 degrees Celsius.

Susie Walton sat on the sofa, flipping through a document.

She wore a dark blue suit dress today, her hair was up, and she wore a pair of small diamond stud earrings.

"The Senate hearing is next week."

Without looking up, Susie said, "The topic is 'The impact of foreign entities on the US new energy industry'."

"The Warrior Group is the key target. Uncle Si has already spoken to them and will try to steer the conversation toward technical cooperation, so as not to turn it into a confrontation."

Ye Feng turned around and walked back to his desk to sit down.

“My fourth uncle is under a lot of pressure. He is running for Senate Speaker next year and cannot be labeled as ‘pro-China’ at this critical juncture.”

"So you shouldn't attend this hearing. Let the CEO of Warrior Group's North American branch go. He's American, a veteran, has a good image, and speaks persuasively."

Susie closed the file and looked at him. "Your current role is not that of the leader of the Warrior Group. You are the founder of the Brothers Group."

"They are the investors, the job creators. Not 'they,' but 'we.'"

Ye Feng picked up his coffee and took a sip. "When did you learn this kind of talk?"

“From the moment I started my campaign.”

Susie stood up and walked to the window. “Voters don’t care where your money comes from. What they care about is whether you can give them a good life. Brothers Group employs 50,000 people in the United States, and the votes of those 50,000 people are your shield.”

Ye Feng stood up and walked to her side. "Susie, do you regret it?"

Susie turned to look at him. "Regret what?"

"She regrets following me. She regrets getting involved in this mess."

Susie looked at him for a long time. Then she reached out and gently touched the back of his hand.

“I don’t regret it,” she said. “Because I know that what you did was the right thing.”

Ye Feng neither withdrew his hand nor shook it back. He simply stood there, letting Susie's hand rest on the back of his.

"Keep an eye on the hearing for me."

He said, "Let Fourth Uncle do what he wants. Don't sacrifice his political future for the sake of the fighter group."

Susie withdrew her hand. "Are you sure?"

"Confirmed. I'll handle the Warrior Group matter myself."

Susie nodded and picked up her bag. "I'll be going now. There's a fundraising dinner tonight."

Don't overwork yourself.

Susie walked to the door, then turned back. "Ye Feng, when did you learn to care about people?"

Ye Feng didn't answer, but just smiled slightly.

Susie left. The office fell silent.

Ye Feng sat back down in his chair and picked up a report from the table.

The cover features the emblem of the Warriors Group—a bayonet, designed by Ye Yuze and drawn with a pencil decades ago in the old building of the infrastructure company.

He opened the report, and the first page was a world map, densely marked with the Warrior Group's factories, R&D centers, and sales networks.

Europe, North America, Southeast Asia, the Middle East, Africa—the footprints of soldiers can be found on almost every continent.

The second page contains a table listing the Warrior Group's global market share.

New energy vehicles account for 32% in Europe, 28% in North America, and 41% in Southeast Asia.

Microchips: 57% of the global market. Engines: 39% of the global market.

These numbers were built by Ye Yuze over forty years. Now, it's his turn to defend them.

He closed the report, picked up his phone, and dialed a number.

"Fourth Uncle. It's me."

On the other end of the phone, Fourth Uncle's voice carried a heavy Northwestern accent. "Ye Feng, I know why you're calling. Don't worry about the hearing. I won't let them mess things up."

"Fourth Uncle, that's not what I came here to talk about."

"Then what did you say?"

Ye Feng was silent for two seconds. "I'm here to thank you. Thank you for helping the Ye family all these decades."

There was a two-second silence on the other end of the phone.

"What are you thanking me for?" Fourth Uncle's voice was somewhat hoarse.
"I'm from the Ye family. Your grandfather is my brother. If I don't help you, who will I help?"

After hanging up the phone, Ye Feng leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling.

The Hudson River flows quietly outside the window, with a few cargo ships slowly passing by on its surface.

London, East End docks, the same afternoon.

Yang Chenglong sat in his office on the second floor of the warehouse, with the "Pegasus" business plan spread out in front of him, but he couldn't concentrate on reading it.

His mind kept replaying what Ye Guigen had said last night—"The Warrior Group's new energy vehicles are under investigation again in Europe."

He didn't understand anti-subsidy investigations or microchips. But he did understand one thing—someone was targeting the Ye family.

After dealing with the Ye family, they'll deal with the Yang family. After dealing with the Yang family, they'll deal with "Tianma".

He picked up his phone and sent a message to Yang Geyong: "Grandpa, do you know about the Warrior Group?"

The reply came quickly. "I know. Don't worry about it. Just mind your own business."

Yang Chenglong felt a tightness in his chest as he looked at the words.

He didn't want to get involved, but he couldn't ignore it. Ye Guigen was his brother. His brother's affairs were his affairs.

He stood up and walked to the window. The Thames was grey and flowing slowly. Several white waterbirds circled low over the river.

My phone rang. It was Ye Guigen.

"Where are you?"

"storehouse."

"Don't move. I'm coming over."

Twenty minutes later, Ye Guigen arrived. He was wearing a black down jacket, a scarf wrapped around his nose, and carrying two cups of coffee.

He went upstairs to the second floor and handed a cup of coffee to Yang Chenglong.

"What's wrong? You don't look well."

Yang Chenglong took the coffee and placed it on the table. "Gui Gen, I have a question for you."

"ask."

"Is the matter concerning the Warrior Group very serious?"

Ye Guigen paused for a moment. "It's serious. But it's not my business."

"Isn't this your business? That's your family's property!"

"It belongs to my family, but it's not mine."

Ye Guigen sat down. "My grandfather said that the Warrior Group belongs to him and my father. My task is to study hard and do a good job with 'Foundation and Wings'. We can talk about the Warrior Group after I graduate."

Looking at him, Yang Chenglong suddenly felt that this person was frighteningly calm.

"What about your dad? Can he handle it all by himself?"

Ye Guigen picked up his coffee and took a sip. "He's not alone. He has my grandfather, his fourth grandfather, Aunt Susie, and the team from Brothers Group. He can handle it."

"how do you know?"

"Because he has never lost."

Yang Chenglong paused for a moment, then laughed.

"You have more faith in your father than in me."

"That's different."

Ye Guigen put down his coffee cup. "My dad is my dad, and you're my brother. If my dad loses, I'm still here. If you lose, I'll help you win it back."

Yang Chenglong looked at him and remained silent for a long time.

"Thank you for returning to my roots."

"No need to thank me. Just treat me to a meal."

"Okay. Pulled noodles."

"Large portion."

"Large portion."

The two went downstairs and out of the warehouse. The wind at the dock was strong, making them hunch their shoulders.

"Returning to one's roots".

"Ah."

"When do you think we'll be able to handle things like your dad? Shouldering such a huge burden on our own?"

Ye Guigen thought about it.

"I don't know. But someday."

"how do you know?"

"Because my grandfather said that the men of the Ye family are not afraid to walk in the dark. Because if there is light in your heart, there will be a path under your feet."

Yang Chenglong silently repeated the words to himself. The men of the Ye family are not afraid to walk alone at night.

He wasn't a man of the Ye family. But he was a brother of a man of the Ye family.

enough.

The two walked along the Thames for a while. The water was grey, reflecting the buildings on both banks.

In the distance, the lights of the London Eye shone in the twilight, ringing out in concentric circles like a giant eye.

"Returning to one's roots".

"Ah."

"Why do you think those European and American politicians want to form militant groups?"

Ye Guigen thought for a moment. "Because they're afraid."

"What are you afraid of?"

"I'm afraid the warrior group is too big. Too big for them to control."

Yang Chenglong stopped and looked at the river.

"What should I do?"

“Nothing much.” Ye Guigen also stopped. “Keep expanding. Keep going until they’re no longer afraid.”

"Until you're no longer afraid? How big would that have to be?"

Ye Guigen looked at him and smiled.

"Until they get used to it."

Yang Chenglong was stunned for a moment, then he laughed.

The two people stood on the banks of the Thames, watching the water flow slowly.

The wind was strong, but the two of them standing together didn't feel so cold.

Junken City, late at night on the same day.

Ye Yuze was sitting in his study when the phone rang. He answered it.

"Dad." It was Ye Feng's voice. "The EU's anti-subsidy investigation will officially begin next week. The US Department of Commerce's hearing is also next week."

"I know."

"How did you know?"

"Your fourth uncle told me."

There was a two-second silence on the other end of the phone.

"Dad, are you scared?"

Ye Yuze leaned back in his chair, looking at the stars outside the window.

"Not afraid."

"why?"

"Because I've seen all kinds of storms in my life. From the dugouts in the Gobi Desert to today's warrior group."

"If someone wants to fight back, I'll fight back. If I can't fight back, I'll find another way to get there. If I can't get there by walking, I'll crawl."

There was silence on the other end of the phone.

“Dad,” Ye Feng’s voice was a little hoarse, “you’re getting old.”

"Even when I'm old, I'll still be tougher than you." Ye Yuze laughed. "Alright, stop talking. You go about your business. I'm going to play chess."

"Who should I play against?"

"Follow Lao Yang."

"You two have been playing chess your whole lives, haven't you had enough?"

Ye Yuze looked at the empty sofa opposite him. Yang Geyong didn't come today, saying his leg hurt and he was resting at home.

"Not enough. Not enough in this lifetime. I'll keep going in the next."

After hanging up the phone, Ye Yuze sat alone in the study, staring at the unfinished game.

The red team's chariot has crossed the river, while the black team's horse is still guarding its home.

He picked up a chess piece and twirled it in his hand.

Outside the window, the stars are shining.

He didn't know who would win the game. But he knew the game was still going on.

And his son, his grandson, will walk the rest of the way for him.

(To be continued) (End of this chapter)