Great Power Reclamation

Yang Wei stood on the construction site of the smart city control center, in front of him a newly poured foundation. The cement hadn't dried completely, and the edges still bore the holes left by the vibrating rods.

He squatted down and pressed his finger against the cement surface; it had hardened and could now bear weight. Director Sun walked over and handed him a safety helmet.

"Mr. Yang, this is the foundation. A three-story control center will be built on top. The first floor will be the data center, the second floor the dispatch center, and the third floor the exhibition center. The basement will be the equipment floor, housing servers and backup power supplies."

Yang Wei stood up and put on his helmet. "Are three layers enough?"

"That's enough. The military reclamation city isn't big; three stories are sufficient. If not, we can expand it later. The foundation was built for six stories."

Yang Wei looked at the concrete foundation, which gleamed grayish-white in the sunlight, like a newborn baby that hadn't opened its eyes yet but was already breathing.

The core of a smart city is not hardware, but the system. Yang Wei understands this principle. Streetlights, pipelines, garbage stations, traffic lights—these are the hardware, the skeleton of the city, but the skeleton won't move on its own.

The nervous system is what controls the movement of the skeleton. He found a company that specializes in smart city systems to build this nervous system. The company sent a team, led by a young man surnamed Zhao, in his early thirties, wearing black-rimmed glasses, who liked to gesture with his hands when he spoke, as if he were conducting an invisible orchestra.

He said three things to Yang Wei when they first met:
"First, a smart city is not just about installing a few sensors; it's about enabling the sensors to communicate with each other."

Second, the system must be able to learn on its own; the more it learns, the smarter it becomes.

Third, data must be open; otherwise, it's dead data.

After hearing these three sentences, Yang Wei shook hands with him. "What's your name, Zhao something?"

"Zhao Yiming".

"Zhao Yiming, you stay and finish developing this system."

Zhao Yiming spent a full month in the military reclamation city. He and his team walked through every street in the old city, inspected every planned plot of land in the new city, and toured the research institute, horse farm, airport, and the Ye family's old residence.

He conducted extensive surveying and mapping, recorded a large amount of data, and then built a digital model on the computer.

This model is the shadow of the military reclamation city, an identical city, with a one-to-one digital prototype for everything from roads and buildings to pipelines, streetlights and trash cans.

Zhao Yiming opened the model for Yang Wei to see. The screen displayed a three-dimensional city with crisscrossing streets, staggered buildings, and neatly arranged streetlights.

Yang Wei reached out and turned the view on the screen, looking down from the air, like a bird in flight.

Zhao Yiming clicked on a lamppost on the screen, and detailed information about the lamppost popped up.

Serial number, location, model, installation date, power consumption, and last maintenance date.

He clicked on the underground pipe network, and a layout diagram of the network popped up—pipe diameter, material, burial depth, insulation layer thickness, and design life.

He clicked on the traffic light, and the real-time status of the traffic light popped up—the red and green light switching cycle, traffic flow at the intersection, and pedestrian waiting time to cross the street.

"Mr. Yang, this model is called a digital twin. Every single thing in the city has an identical copy in the computer. The copy and the real object are synchronized in real time."

"When the streetlights are on, the streetlights in the model also turn on. When the pipeline pressure changes, the pressure data in the model also changes. When there is a traffic jam, the road in the model turns red. When a streetlight is broken, the light in the model turns gray."

“Sitting here, you can see everything that’s happening in the whole city.”

Yang Wei looked at the city on the screen, where blue data cables flowed between the streets, transmitting information back to the center from all directions like blood vessels.

Is this system intelligent?

“It’s not smart right now. It can only see, not think. But I will teach it. I will teach it to look at data, to analyze data, and to make predictions. The more I teach it, the smarter it will become.”

"It's smart enough to adjust the brightness of streetlights, adjust the timing of traffic lights, determine where road repairs are needed, and plan garbage truck routes. It's faster, more accurate, and less tired than a human."

Yang Wei removed his hand from the screen. "How long will it take to learn?"

Zhao Yiming thought for a moment. "It will take at least six months, and at most a year. The military reclamation city is not big, the amount of data is small, and it can learn quickly."

Six months later, the system went live. It was the following spring, and the apricot blossoms were in full bloom, turning the city a pink and white hue.

Zhao Yiming sat in front of the large screen in the control center, with a row of monitors displaying the real-time status of the entire city.

He typed a few commands on the keyboard, and a dialog box popped up on the screen—

"System startup. Synchronizing data. Synchronization complete. Entering running mode."

He pushed his chair back a little and looked at Yang Wei. "Mr. Yang, it's awake."

At 8:03 a.m. that morning, the system started working. The streetlights automatically dimmed a little because it was already light.

The traffic lights automatically adjusted the red and green light durations according to the traffic flow during the morning rush hour, and there were no prolonged traffic jams at the intersection.

The garbage truck set off along the route planned by the system, which was nearly one-third shorter than usual. The city's pipeline monitoring system detected a small pressure fluctuation and automatically issued an early warning. The maintenance team arrived at the scene within twenty minutes.

There were no problems all morning, like a precise machine, with every gear turning when it should and stopping when it should.

Yang Wei sat in the control center all morning, watching the data flow on the screen. Zhao Yiming was beside him explaining what each data point represented, but he didn't listen.

What came to mind was his father Yang Geyong's horse farm, which wasn't yet connected to the system. Yang Geyong didn't know how to use a smartphone, how to access the internet, or how to read data.

He only knew how to ride horses, how to raise horses, and how to squat by the stables watching the foals graze. But the military reclamation city was changing, he was changing, and the horse farm should change too.

Yang Wei called Zhao Yiming and asked him to take some people to the horse farm to take a look. Zhao Yiming went there the next day with his equipment and toured the horse farm, inspecting the horse pens, feed troughs, water troughs, and fences.

He suggested installing an environmental sensor in the horse pen to monitor temperature, humidity, and air quality, and a sensor in the feed trough to monitor feed consumption.

A sensor is installed in the water trough to monitor water intake. A sensor is installed on the horse's hooves to monitor activity levels. This data is transmitted back to the control center, where the system can automatically analyze the horse's health condition.

After listening, Yang Wei asked him, "Will my dad stop you from pretending?"

Zhao Yiming laughed. "President Yang, your father wasn't at the horse farm today. I pretended he didn't know. By the time he came back, it was too late. He glanced at it, cursed a few times, and then accepted it."

Yang Wei laughed too. "Then pretend. Don't tell him after you're done pretending."

Three days after the sensors were installed, Yang Geyong noticed several small boxes in the horse pen. He squatted down and studied them for a long time, but couldn't understand them.

He asked Emily, "What is this?"

Emily told him that it was an environmental sensor that could monitor temperature and humidity.

Yang Geyong frowned. "Why monitor the temperature and humidity? I can tell just by touching the horse."

Emily crouched down and touched his face. "If you touch a horse with your hand, you can only touch one horse. With sensors, you can touch all the horses. You can sit at home and know if the stables are cold, if the horses have eaten enough, or if they've run enough."

Yang Geyong paused for a moment. "Then will I be able to see it?"

“Yes.” Emily took out her phone, opened the control center app, and the screen displayed the temperature, humidity, feed consumption, water consumption, and the horse’s steps in the stable.

"Look, the temperature is 22 degrees Celsius, which is just right. The humidity is 40%, which is a bit dry. We should sprinkle some water."

Yang Geyong looked down at his phone screen for a long time. "This thing is more accurate than me."

He paused for a moment, "But I don't believe in it. I believe in my own hands. I only feel at ease after touching it with my own hands."

Zhao Yiming's team spent nearly a year in Junken City, upgrading the system from the first version to the third version, and from the basic perception layer to the analysis layer.

The system has learned to predict: it can adjust the brightness of streetlights in advance based on weather forecasts, increasing illumination on cloudy days.

The timing scheme of traffic lights can be adjusted in advance based on data from holidays, alleviating the pressure at intersections leading into and out of the city.

It can predict weak points in the pipeline network based on historical data and arrange maintenance in advance before a pipe bursts. Yang Wei calls it the "brain of the military reclamation area".

It wasn't him who came up with the name; it was Zhao Yiming who gave it to him, and that's what everyone called him after that.

On the day the "Military Reclamation Brain" went online, Yang Wei stood in front of the large screen in the control center, watching the data flow on the screen.

Zhao Yiming sat at the control panel and said into the microphone, "Military reclamation brain, report on the city's status."

A message appeared on the screen: "City Status: Good. All systems are functioning normally. No alarms detected."

Recommendation: There will be showers around 3 PM; please turn on the streetlights in advance.

Yang Wei looked at the line of text, said nothing, and then slightly curled the corner of his mouth.

When the news reached the Ye family's old residence, Ye Yuze was drinking tea under the apricot tree. His phone rang; it was a message from Yang Wei:
"Uncle Ye, the military reclamation brain is online. Now the whole city is smart, even my dad's horse farm is connected to the network."

Ye Yuze looked at the words, read them again, put down his phone, picked up his teacup, and took a sip. More flowers floated into the cup; he didn't scoop them out, swallowing the tea along with the flowers.

It was slightly astringent, with a hint of sweetness. The apricot tree was in full bloom, its branches covered in pink and white blossoms, swaying gently in the breeze.

No one picked it; some fell on their own, landing on the stone table, in the teacups, and on the lid of the old teapot.

He reached out and brushed away the petals from the lid of the teapot, his movements very gentle, as if he were brushing away something irretrievable.

Inside the horse farm, Yang Geyong was still squatting by the horse pen, holding his mobile phone with the pen's data displayed on the screen.

He didn't know how to operate it, but he could observe: temperature, humidity, feed consumption, steps. He looked at it for a while and then handed the phone to Emily.

"Look at this step count, how many steps did it take today?"

Emily took it and glanced at it. "I probably walked a few thousand steps today. Normal."

Yang Geyong stood up. "It's good that it's normal. If it's not normal, tell me."

He dusted off his hands. He didn't know what "military reclamation brain" was, what digital twin was, or what neural network was.

But he knew his horse was eating well, sleeping well, and running well. As long as it ate well, slept well, and ran well, that was enough. Who cared if it was artificial intelligence or natural intelligence? In his eyes, there was only one difference:
Only what you can touch is reliable. The transformation of the military reclamation city has entered its third year. The city's appearance has changed dramatically; it is no longer that drab little northwestern town, but a shining desert pearl on the Gobi Desert.

Yang Wei stood at the highest point of the New City Central Park, overlooking the entire city.

Central Park is mostly completed. The lake is sparkling, the grass by the lake is bright green, the trails are winding and meandering, and fitness equipment, children's slides, pavilions and benches are scattered in every corner.

The trees in the park were planted last autumn, and now they have sprouted new buds, which are tender and green, and are as transparent as paper in the sunlight.

Yang Wei thought that once these trees grew up, this park would become a forest. Planting a forest in the Gobi Desert was something his grandfather's generation never dared to dream of.

It is now right under his feet, growing inch by inch.

The new town's residential area is already taking shape. It's not the kind of cookie-cutter pigeonholes; instead, it consists of rows of small, well-arranged buildings, no more than six stories high, with exterior walls painted in a warm yellow and light gray color scheme and roofs covered with dark brown tiles.

Each building has solar photovoltaic panels installed on its roof, which gleam with a deep blue light under the sun, like a tranquil sea.

The buildings are spaced far apart, wide enough for sunlight to stream into every window without obstruction, and wide enough for wind to pass through from any direction.

Flower pots were placed on the windowsill, filled with various flowers and plants—red, yellow, and purple—illuminating the entire building.

Yang Wei came down from the park and walked slowly along the newly paved asphalt road. The road was not wide, but it was clean. There were straight poplar trees on both sides of the road with thick trunks. The leaves rustled in the wind, like countless little hands clapping.

There is a street lamp every so often, with a silver-white, octagonal pole and solar panels and sensors on top, like silent sentinels.

The road design in the new town is unique; instead of a grid of straight lines, it spreads outwards in concentric circles like water ripples.

At the very center is Central Park, surrounded by the first ring road, with low-density residential areas on both sides of the road;

The second ring consists of commercial and cultural facilities, including shopping malls, cinemas, libraries, and art galleries.

The third ring consists of schools and hospitals, located between residential and commercial areas; the outermost ring is an industrial park, where research institutes and aircraft manufacturing plant parts production bases are located.

The advantage of this circular layout is that people living at the innermost part can walk to the park, school, doctor, shopping, or work within ten minutes.

No need to drive, no need to take public transportation, no need to get stuck in traffic, no need to waste time behind the steering wheel. A car is a tool, not a lifestyle.

To the south of the new city, right next to the old city, a landmark building is under construction. Its shape is very unique—it looks like a blooming snow lotus.

The petals are white metal curtain walls, gleaming softly in the sunlight. The stamen is a huge glass dome, through which the layers of steel structure inside can be seen.

The "Snow Lotus Convention and Exhibition Center" in the military reclamation city will be used to hold all important meetings, exhibitions and negotiations in the future. It is specially prepared to receive people from all over the world who come to see the planes, the engines and this pearl of the desert.

Yang Wei stood outside the construction site, looking up at the snow lotus that was taking shape. The construction team was installing the curtain wall, piecing it together piece by piece, like adding petals to a flower.

Snow lotus is a legend of the Gobi Desert, said to bloom even in the driest places. The military reclamation town is the same, growing in the most desolate place. He watched for a while, then turned and left.

The large aircraft project is progressing faster than expected. The design for the sixth prototype has been finalized, Ye Hai signed the drawings, and handed them over to the manufacturing plant.

The factory workers began processing the parts. They had been working on the first machine and were now making the sixth. Their hands were so skilled that they could tell where each screw should be tightened and which connector each pipe should be connected to without even looking at the blueprints.

They don't need to look up at the monitors; they just need to keep their heads down and get to work. Because every screw and every cable they make will eventually be installed in a real airplane.

That plane was Junken No. 2, but it wasn't the end. Junken No. 3 was already waiting, Junken No. 4 was also waiting, and Junken No. 5, No. 6, and No. 7 were all lined up on the blueprints, like a long river with no end in sight.

Ye Hai came out of the research institute and stretched at the entrance. Ayiguli came out of the materials laboratory and walked to his side.

"The blueprints have been handed in?"

"It's been handed over."

"Are you relieved now?"

"It's not easy. The sixth unit hasn't been built yet, but the seventh is already in our minds."

Aygul looked at him; his left eyebrow was higher than his right. She reached out and pressed down on his left eyebrow.

"Okay, we're the same height now."

He didn't flinch, and as soon as she withdrew her hand, his left eyebrow arched up again. Aygul didn't press it down again, because she knew it was pointless. His eyebrows would always be like that, the left higher than the right, never changing for the rest of his life.

Yang Chenglong flew back from London. After getting off the plane, he drove through the new town and saw the warm yellow buildings gleaming softly in the sunlight, the poplar trees standing straight along the roadside, and the silver lampposts shimmering against the blue sky and white clouds.

He asked the driver to stop by the roadside for a while, got out of the car, stood under a poplar tree, and looked up at the leaves rustling in the wind.

The driver, a young man, asked him, "Sir, what are you looking at?"

Yang Chenglong said, "Look at the trees."

The driver laughed. "What's so interesting about trees?"

Yang Chenglong did not answer. He stood under the poplar tree, recalling his childhood when the road here was a dirt road, bare with no trees on either side, and when the wind blew, sand and dust filled the sky.

Now there are trees, streetlights, asphalt roads, and warm yellow buildings here. Those who walked on the dirt roads back then are no longer there. But the trees watch over them.

Yang Chenglong pushed open the gate of the Ye family's old house and saw Ye Yuze sitting under the apricot tree with a chessboard in front of him.

Yang Geyong sat opposite him, holding a bowl of milk tea. Neither of them stood up when he entered; Yang Geyong merely raised his chin slightly.
"came back?"

Yang Chenglong said, "I'm back."

He sat down next to Yang Geyong. There was a bowl of milk tea on the stone table, which Yu'e had left for him and was still warm.

He picked it up and took a sip. It was salty and hot, with a stronger milky taste than Zhao Ling'er's cooking; there wasn't enough salt. It didn't taste good, but he drank it anyway, taking a big gulp, then another big gulp, until the bowl was empty.

Yang Geyong watched him finish drinking, then took the empty bowl from him, placed it on the table, and asked:
How's it going in England?

Yang Chenglong put down the bowl. "Not bad. Tianma did a good job, and Guigen's fund did a good job too."

Yang Geyong picked up his milk tea bowl and took a sip.

"If it's good enough, then don't cause any trouble. Just come back when it's time."

Ye Yuze picked up a chess piece and placed it on the board with a snap. The placement of his piece made Yang Geyong frown, causing him to move his horse one step forward, blocking Ye Yuze's cannon.

Ye Yuze looked at the cannon that had been stepped on, but didn't rush to save it. He tapped the edge of the chessboard twice with his fingers.

"Jackie Chan, the military reclamation city has changed, have you seen it?"

Yang Chenglong said, "I saw it. The new city is very well built. Trees have been planted along the roads, and solar panels have been installed on the roofs."

Ye Yuze smiled. "That's not all. There are underground pipe networks, sensors in the streetlights, and a city brain in the control center. The things you can't see are the ones that have truly changed."

Yang Chenglong opened his mouth, but what he was thinking about wasn't the city's brain, but this apricot tree. It blooms every year, regardless of whether anyone sees it.

He suddenly realized that the most intelligent thing in this city might be this tree. It didn't need sensors, data, or a network.

It only needs water, light, and soil. When the water and light come, it blooms. Year after year, without fail.

A deep rumble came from the distant sky. It wasn't thunder, but the sound of an airplane engine.

A silver-white plane flew over from the direction of Tianshan, drawing an arc over the military reclamation city before turning south and heading towards the test airspace.

The engines under the wings gleamed in the sunlight, their sound steady and powerful, like the beating of a strong heart.

Yang Geyong looked up at the plane until it became a tiny dot and disappeared into the clouds.

"How many test flights has the Junken No. 2 been conducted?"

Ye Yuze thought for a moment. "I can't remember. It's happened many times. Every time it flew perfectly. There wasn't a single problem."

Yang Geyong finished the last sip of milk tea in his bowl. "It's good that there are no problems. If there are no problems, it can be delivered a day earlier. If it's delivered a day earlier, it can fly to the world a day earlier. If it flies to the world a day earlier, those who have waited their whole lives in the Gobi Desert can see it a day earlier." Ye Yuze didn't reply.

Yang Chenglong sat beside them, looking at the profiles of the two old people. Their hair was completely white, their faces were etched with deep wrinkles, their backs were hunched, and their hands trembled, but they were still there.

Under the apricot tree, in front of the chessboard, in a city that is being renovated.

He stood up, walked to the apricot tree, and reached out to touch the trunk. It was rough and cold, but it had an indescribable warmth.

“Grandpa,” he said, “I’m not leaving again this time.”

Yang Geyong paused, his hand holding the bowl still. "Not leaving? Giving up your studies in London?"

"I've read it, I've finished reading it, and I've graduated."

Yang Chenglong turned around. "It's time to come back. The military reclamation city is changing, and it's time for me to come back. Wanwan can take care of things in Tianma. Guigen is in London; he'll contact me if anything happens."

"I want to come back and help you build roads, plant trees, and build a city."

Yang Geyong looked at him for a long time, and then smiled. When he smiled, the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes gathered together, like a folding fan, like a mushroom cloud that had been worn down by wind and sand for sixty years, finally exploding at this moment.

Ye Yuze held the cup of flower petal tea, looking at Yang Chenglong and then at the apricot tree. This tree was planted by his father and had been blooming every year for decades.

The flowers are blooming exceptionally well this year, with the trees full of pink and white blossoms that shimmer in the sunlight, like a cloud fallen into the yard.

He looked at the flowers, and at the young man who said he wanted to come back, without saying "good" or "bad".

He simply picked up his teacup and took a sip. More petals floated into the cup, but he didn't scoop them out. He swallowed the tea along with the petals, finding it slightly astringent with a hint of sweetness.

This tree will bloom again next year. And the year after. As long as its roots are there, as long as there is water, soil, and sunlight, it will keep blooming. (End of Chapter)