Great Power Reclamation

In the early morning in Junken City, the sunlight spills over from the Tianshan Mountains, turning the white buildings of the sanatorium into a pale gold.

This building is located at the foot of a mountain in the north of the city, surrounded by pine trees that never lose their leaves in winter, their green color turning almost black.

There are several cobblestone paths in the courtyard, and a thin layer of frost has settled on the benches along the paths, glistening in the sunlight.

Ye Yuping stood at the entrance of the sanatorium, carrying an insulated bag in her hand—

He had cooked millet porridge, steamed buns, and a dish of pickles for breakfast. He took a deep breath and pushed open the door.

The corridor was quiet, with only the sound of his footsteps echoing on the tiled floor.

The nurses at the nurses' station saw him, nodded, and didn't stop him. The Ye family never needed an appointment to visit.

At the end of the corridor was a suite, with a small wooden sign hanging on the door that read "Ye Wancheng". Ye Yuping stood at the door for a few seconds, then raised his hand and knocked.

"Come in." An old man's voice came from inside. It wasn't loud, but it was steady and carried an undeniable power.

Ye Yuping pushed open the door. The room was spacious, with a large hospital bed by the window, and a row of medicine bottles and a lamp on the bedside table.

Against the wall was a desk, on which lay a newspaper and a pair of reading glasses.

There are several potted plants on the windowsill, all of them plum blossoms, as well as clivia, jasmine, and a cactus.

Ye Wancheng sat in a wheelchair beside the bed, a blanket covering his legs. His hair was completely white, and the wrinkles on his face were etched like knife marks, but his eyes were still bright—

That kind of brilliance that has weathered storms, witnessed life and death, and is invincible.

Behind him, Meihua stood by the window, wearing a maroon sweater, her hair gray but neatly combed.

"Dad." Ye Yuping walked over and placed the insulated bag on the bedside table. "Mom."

Ye Wancheng raised his head and looked at his second son.

He was over fifty years old, and his hair was white, but his back was straight as a pine tree.

"You're back?" Ye Wancheng's voice was calm, as if he were asking something very ordinary.

"I'm back."

"Not leaving?"

"Don't go."

Ye Wancheng nodded, his gaze falling on the insulated bag. "You made this porridge?"

"Yes. Millet porridge. Steamed buns made by Zhao Ling'er, with mutton and scallions."

Meihua came over, opened the insulated bag, took out the porridge and steamed buns, and placed them on the bedside table.

Her movements were slow but steady, each one like a ritual.

"Yuping, sit down first. Let your dad eat slowly."

Ye Yuping sat down on the chair by the bed. Meihua handed the bowl of porridge to Ye Wancheng, and then broke the steamed buns into small pieces and placed them on a plate.

Ye Wancheng's hands trembled slightly, but he could still eat by himself. He took a sip of porridge, put down the bowl, and looked at Ye Yuping.

Where is Helena?

"At the R&D center. Test drive today."

Where is Ye Hai?

“He went too. He stayed in the lab until 3 a.m. last night.”

Ye Wancheng paused for a moment, then smiled. The smile was faint, but genuine.

"That kid is just like you. You were the same when you were young, you would lose track of time once you started working."

Ye Yuping lowered his head and remained silent.

"Yuping," Ye Wancheng put down his bowl of porridge, "are you confident about the large aircraft engine?"

Ye Yuping raised his head and looked at his father. Those cloudy but still sharp eyes were like two lamps, illuminating him.

"Dad, I'm not 100% sure. But I'm 100% determined."

Ye Wancheng stared at him for a long time.

"I'm determined enough."

He said, “When I came to XJ from the mainland, I had nothing but determination. You brothers all grew up in this Gobi Desert. You have the bones of the Gobi Desert in your bones. The bones of the Gobi Desert are not afraid of wind and sand.”

Ye Yuping's eyes reddened.

"Dad, I—"

"Stop talking." Ye Wancheng waved his hand. "Go do your work. The engine is more important than spending time with me."

Meihua stood to the side, saying nothing. She looked at her husband and son, her eyes reddening, but she didn't let the tears fall. All her life, she had shed her tears in places where no one could see her.

Ye Yuping stood up, walked to the door, stopped, and turned around.

"Dad, Mom, I'm leaving."

"Let's go," Ye Wancheng said.

Meihua nodded at him.

Ye Yuping opened the door and walked out. His footsteps echoed in the corridor, tap, tap, tap, fading into the distance.

The room fell silent. Ye Wancheng picked up the bowl of porridge and took another sip. The porridge was cold, but he didn't care.

“Plum Blossom,” he said, “do you think Yuping can build the engine?”

Meihua walked to his side and put her hand on his shoulder.

“Yes,” she said, “because he is your son.”

Ye Wancheng smiled.

“I have many sons. Ye Yuze, Ye Yufan, Ye Yuping, and the fourth one. Four sons, four different. But there is one thing they have in common.”

"what?"

"I disagree."

Plum Blossom didn't speak. She looked out the window; the sunlight shone brightly on the pine trees and the snow.

Military Reclamation City Research Institute, 9:00 AM.

The third test run of the Tianshan engine is scheduled for 9:30.

Helena stood in the control room, in front of a row of screens displaying a dense array of data—temperature, pressure, engine speed, fuel consumption.

Her fingers flew across the keyboard, bringing up one parameter after another.

Ye Hai stood on the test bench, wearing a safety helmet and goggles, conducting final checks. His fingers glided over every interface of the engine, like a pianist playing the piano.

His lips moved slightly, as if he were silently reciting something.

Ivan sat at the control panel, a pen in his hand, his notebook filled with numbers. His eyes were glued to the screen, not daring to look away for a moment.

Kevin stood in the corner, holding a cup of coffee, his dark circles as heavy as a panda's. He had stayed up all night, only getting three hours of sleep, but now he was wide awake.

The door opened. Ye Yuping walked in.

Helena turned her head and glanced at him. "You've come?"

"They're here." Ye Yuping walked to the control panel and looked at the screens. "How's the data?"

"Normal. Everything is within the design range."

Ye Yuping nodded, walked to the walkie-talkie, and pressed the button.

"Ye Hai, are you ready?"

Ye Hai's voice came through the walkie-talkie, calm and clear.

"Ready. Fuel system normal, lubrication system normal, ignition system normal. You may test drive."

Ye Yuping glanced at Helena. Helena nodded.

"Let's begin," Ye Yuping said.

The control room fell silent. Ivan pressed the start button. On the test bench, the engine emitted a deep roar, like a wild beast awakening.

The sound grew louder and louder, making the windows of the control room rattle.

The numbers on the screen began to jump. The temperature was rising, the pressure was rising, the rotation speed was rising. Everything was within the design parameters.

“Thirty percent thrust,” Ivan reported.

"Fifty percent."

"Seventy percent."

"Ninety percent."

Helena gripped the edge of the table tightly, her knuckles turning white.

“One hundred percent.” Ivan’s voice trembled slightly.

The roar of the engines reached its peak, and the entire research institute trembled. Everyone in the control room held their breath, staring at the screens.

One minute, two minutes, three minutes.

The data is stable. No anomalies are found.

Helena loosened her grip on the edge of the table and took a deep breath.

"Ivan, maintain 100% thrust and try for another five minutes."

"clear."

Five minutes have passed. The data remains stable.

"Shut down the machine," Ye Yuping said.

Ivan pressed the stop button. The roar of the engine gradually subsided and finally disappeared. The control room was so quiet you could hear everyone's heartbeat.

Ye Hai's voice came through the walkie-talkie, tinged with amusement. "Mom, it's done." Helena closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and slowly exhaled. She opened her eyes and looked at Ye Yuping.

"Yuping, it's done."

Ye Yuping didn't speak. He walked to the window and looked at the silver-gray engine on the test bench.

Sunlight streamed in through the window, shining on the engine's casing and reflecting a blinding glare.

He recalled that small laboratory in Boston more than twenty years ago.

At that time, he had nothing but his two hands and a brain.

He remembered Helena coming from Hamburg, covered in wounds but with an indomitable spirit.

He recalled Ye Hai being born in the military reclamation city, growing up on the Gobi Desert, and spending countless nights in the laboratory.

Now, they stand here. Standing on the land of the military reclamation city, standing beside the engines of the Chinese people themselves.

“Yuping,” Helena walked to his side, “what are you thinking about?”

Ye Yuping turned around and looked at her.

"I'm wondering when it will be able to be loaded onto the plane."

Helena smiled.

"Soon. Three years. Five years at most."

"Five years." Ye Yuping chewed on the number. "Five years is enough."

London, the same afternoon.

Yang Chenglong sat in the "Foundation and Wings" office—the warehouse by the dock had been renovated, with an open-plan office area on the first floor and Ye Guigen's office on the second floor.

Yang Chenglong sat at a long table on the first floor, with the "Tianma" ledger spread out in front of him, but his eyes were fixed on his phone screen.

Ye Guigen came down from the second floor, carrying two cups of coffee. He placed one cup in front of Yang Chenglong.

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

Yang Chenglong looked up and handed him the phone. "Sent by Wanwan. A new order from Germany."

Ye Guigen took the phone and glanced at it. The screen showed a screenshot of an email from Claudia, titled "New Orders - Five Thousand."

The message contained only one line: "Mr. Yang, Merry Christmas. Five thousand items, to be delivered in the spring."

Ye Guigen handed the phone back to him. "Isn't this a good thing? Why do you look like that?"

“It’s not about the order.” Yang Chenglong stood up and walked to the window. “It’s about Liu Zixuan. Wanwan said that Liu Zixuan went back to London. He’s alone, without bodyguards, without a car, and living in the school dormitory.”

Ye Guigen paused for a moment. "I know."

"You knew? Why didn't you tell me?"

"Why should I tell you? Are you going to beat him up again?" Ye Guigen walked up to him:
“Jackie Chan, Liu Zixuan is not your enemy now. He is a poor student whose family has cut off his education. He can barely afford to pay his rent, and you still want to hit him?”

Yang Chenglong clenched his fists, his knuckles turning white. "He sent people to Hangzhou to threaten Wanwan. I can't let this go unpunished."

“There are many ways to take revenge,” Ye Guigen said. “Beating him up is the most basic kind.”

Yang Chenglong turned around and looked at him. "Then tell me, what method is considered advanced?"

Ye Guigen picked up his coffee and took a sip. "Let him live. Let him watch you expand 'Tianma,' take over the oil fields, and marry Lin Wanwan. Let him watch you live a better life than him. That's the ultimate revenge."

Yang Chenglong remained silent for a long time.

“You are,” he finally said, “too cunning.”

Ye Guigen smiled. "It's not cunning. It's cleverness."

Yang Chenglong laughed too. After laughing, he walked back to the table, sat down, and opened the account book.

"Five thousand items, to be delivered in the spring. I can't handle it all by myself every night."

"Then let's hire people."

Hiring? In Hangzhou?

“Yes. In Hangzhou. We need to hire one operations manager, one customer service representative, and one warehouse manager.” Ye Guigen sat down opposite him. “How much monthly revenue does your ‘Tianma’ company have right now?”

"Eighty thousand euros last month."

"Eighty thousand euros is enough to support three people."

Yang Chenglong thought for a moment and nodded. "Okay. I'll talk to Wanwan."

He picked up his phone and sent a message to Lin Wanwan: "Wanwan, we're hiring. Operations, customer service, warehousing. You're in charge."

The reply came quickly. "Is it you who decides, or me?"

"You decide."

"That's more like it."

Yang Chenglong looked at the words and smiled.

Junken City, on the same evening.

Ye Yuze sat in his study, a chess game in the middle of the board in front of him. Yang Geyong sat opposite him, slurping down a bowl of milk tea.

"Old Ye," Yang Geyong put down his bowl, "the engine test run was a success."

Ye Yuze's hand froze in mid-air. "I know."

"How did you know?"

"Ye Feng called and told me."

Yang Geyong was taken aback. "Ye Feng? He's in New York, how did he know?"

"Helena emailed him before the test drive. As soon as the test drive was over, he called."

Yang Geyong shook his head. "You Ye family members are all more impatient than the last."

Ye Yuze placed the chess piece down with a snap.

"It's not that I'm in a hurry. It's that I'm concerned."

Yang Geyong picked up the bowl and took a big gulp of milk tea.

"Old Ye, how long do you think Ye Yuping will take to work on the large aircraft engine project?"

"Five years."

"Five years. By then, you and I will both be eighty."

Ye Yuze looked at him and smiled. "So what if you're eighty? You can still play chess at eighty."

Yang Geyong laughed too. "Playing chess is fine. But fighting is no longer allowed."

How many fights have you been in?

"I haven't counted. But it's more than yours."

Ye Yuze shook his head and smiled.

Outside the window, the stars are shining.

In the sanatorium, Ye Wancheng sat in a wheelchair, gazing at the night sky outside the window. Meihua stood behind him, holding a coat in her hand.

"Wancheng, put it on. Don't catch a cold."

Ye Wancheng didn't move. He looked at the stars in the sky, which were so densely packed that it looked like someone had spilled a bag of loose silver.

“Plum Blossom,” he said, “do you think Yu Ping’s engine can be installed on an airplane?”

Meihua draped her coat over his shoulders.

"can."

Are you so sure?

Meihua walked around to him, squatted down, and looked into his eyes.

"Because he is your son. There is nothing a son of the Ye family cannot do."

Ye Wancheng looked at her and remained silent for a long time.

"Plum blossom, you've suffered a lifetime of hardship following me."

Meihua grasped his hand. Those hands were rough, cracked, and the knuckles were swollen.

“It’s not hard,” she said. “With you, I’m not suffering.”

Ye Wancheng's eyes reddened.

Meihua stood up, pushed the wheelchair, and walked to the bedside.

"Go to sleep. We need to watch the sunrise tomorrow."

"To watch the sunrise?"

"Yes. To see the sunrise. The sunrise in Junken City is the best."

Ye Wancheng didn't speak. He closed his eyes and quickly fell asleep.

Plum Blossom stood by the bed, watching him. Moonlight streamed in through the window, illuminating his face and the deep wrinkles on his skin.

She lowered her head and gently kissed his forehead.

Then she turned off the light and left the room.

The corridor was quiet, with only the sound of her footsteps echoing on the tiled floor.

The night in Junken City is pure black.

But it was almost dawn.

(To be continued) (End of this chapter)