Great Power Reclamation

Old Liu, the security guard at the aircraft manufacturing plant in the provincial capital, has been having a bit of a headache lately. Not with his job, but with the people blocking the entrance.

Since the airworthiness certificate of Junken No. 2 was approved, there has been a constant stream of visitors. In the past, there were several groups of visitors every month, but now there are several groups of visitors every day.

Some were wearing suits, some wore robes, some wore headscarves, some wore top hats—a colorful array of attire. They all wanted to go inside the factory and see how the airplane was made.

Old Liu sat in the guardhouse, clutching a key in his hand. He had worked here for over a decade and had seen at least eight or ten thousand people.

But he had never seen so many foreigners before, all of them begging to buy airplanes. He was a little dazed, as if he were dreaming.

Outside the iron fence at the factory gate, another row of cars was parked, all black sedans with small flags on the front, the flags of some country.

The car door opened, and several men stepped out, all dressed in suits and ties, walking with a confident stride. Old Liu glanced at them through the car window, picked up the walkie-talkie, and said:
"Here we go again. This is the third wave."

The factory's meeting rooms are no longer sufficient. We used to have one meeting room, now we have three, but it's still not enough.

Several people from COMAC's international business department took turns receiving visitors, working from morning till night without a moment to catch their breath. Everyone who came said the same thing—

"We want to buy Junken No. 2 aircraft. Not one or two, but ten or twenty. The price is negotiable, and the sooner the delivery date, the better."

A COMAC representative said, "Due to limited production capacity, the delivery cycle may be longer."

The other person asked, "How long is 'longer'?"

The COMAC representative said, "Three years."

The other party thought for a moment and said, "Three years is acceptable. If I can't get it after three years, four years is fine too."

The COMAC representative didn't respond. The other party then said, "We'll pay a deposit first. We'll pay now."

When the news reached Junken City, Yang Chenglong was at the horse farm feeding his grandfather's horses. Yang Geyong squatted by the pen, holding a handful of bean cakes, breaking them into pieces and tossing them to the foals.

He heard the latest order figures from the factory and said softly, "Jackie Chan, do you know? In the provincial capital, the line to buy airplanes is stretched all the way to the door."

Yang Chenglong continued feeding the horses without stopping: "I've heard. The COMAC staff are so busy they don't even have time to eat."

Yang Geyong stood up, brushed the crumbs off his hands, and suddenly said:
"Jackie Chan, you should quit your online store."

Yang Chenglong paused for a moment: "Pegasus? It was doing so well, why did you stop?"

Yang Geyong didn't look at him, turned around and walked into the house: "Come in, I have something to tell you."

Yang Chenglong followed him into the house. Yang Geyong walked to the cabinet, opened the drawer, took out a file bag, and placed it on the table.

The file folder was thick, made of kraft paper, and the edges were worn white, as if it had been stored for many years. Yang Geyong sat down and pointed to the chair opposite him: "Sit."

Yang Chenglong sat down, looked at the file folder, and remained silent. Yang Geyong pushed the folder towards him: "Open it and take a look."

Yang Chenglong opened it; inside was a thick stack of documents, all in English, along with several incomprehensible charts and maps. He flipped through a few pages, then looked up at his grandfather:
"what is this?"

Yang Geyong leaned back in his chair: "Half of my assets. Hundreds of billions of US dollars. Oil fields, pipelines, refineries, mining rights, it's all in there. Take it and work with Ye Guigen."

Yang Chenglong's hand, which was holding the documents, paused. "Grandpa, what are you doing...?"

Yang Geyong interrupted him: "Jackie Chan, let me finish."

Yang Chenglong shut his mouth. Yang Geyong looked at him, his voice neither loud nor soft, as if he were talking about something ordinary:

“I’ve never been particularly capable in my life; I’ve just followed Ye Yuze. When he went east, I went east. When he went west, I went west. When he built roads, I dug ditches with him. When he built factories, I carried bricks with him. When he made engines, I helped raise money with him.”

“I don’t have any ideas, and I’m not good at making decisions. But I know who to follow. Following the right person is much more important than having ideas. I’ve followed Ye Yuze my whole life, and that’s how I got to where I am today.”

He paused for a moment: "Your dad is finished. It's not that he's bad, it's that he hasn't kept up. He has his own ideas, but he hasn't put them into the right place."

“You are better than him, but your IQ is not high either. You are not the kind of person who can forge your own path.”

Yang Chenglong opened his mouth as if to say something, but then closed it again because Yang Geyong had not finished speaking.

"Your online store is doing well. But no matter how big you grow it, it's still just an online store. The military reclamation city is changing, the world is changing, but an online store can't change the world."

“The port is the key. The port is the root, the road, the door. Once the door is open, everything can come in. Ye Guigen is doing this. He's smarter than you, more insightful than you, and better at calculations than you. If you follow him, you won't have to worry about anything for the rest of your life.”

Yang Chenglong lowered his head, looking at the document bag. He felt for an appendix inside, pulled it out, and saw Yang Geyong's crooked handwriting on it:

“Jackie Chan, your grandpa didn’t save much for you in his life. This is all. Take it, but don’t spend it recklessly. Follow Ye Guigen, he won’t let you lose out.”

Yang Chenglong held the page in his hand, his fingers trembling slightly. He took a deep breath, then stood up, walked to Yang Geyong, bent down, and hugged him.

Yang Geyong's body stiffened for a moment, and he didn't move. After a while, he reached out and patted Yang Chenglong's back very lightly, as if he were coaxing a little colt.

"Alright, stop being so dramatic. Get out there and get to work."

Yang Chenglong stepped out of the house and stood in the courtyard of the horse farm. He took out his phone and dialed Ye Guigen's number. It rang twice before Ye answered: "Chenglong?"

"Ultimately, my grandfather left me half of his fortune. Hundreds of billions of dollars. He wanted me to work with you on port acquisitions."

There was a long silence on the other end of the phone. "What did your grandfather say?"

"He said that he got to where he is today because he followed your grandfather closely all his life. My dad is disabled, and I'm not very smart, so he told me to stop running that small online shop and just stick with you for the rest of my life."

Ye Guigen was silent for a while. His voice came through the receiver, a little hoarse, but very steady:
"Jackie Chan, your grandfather is a wise man. He's right. You'll come with me, and we'll work together. The port business isn't just one person's business. It's not just a matter of a year or two. It's a lifelong commitment. Are you ready?"

Yang Chenglong stood in the courtyard of the horse farm, the wind blowing through his hair, the snow-capped peaks of the Tianshan Mountains gleaming white in the sunlight in the distance. He said, "Ready."

Ye Guigen said, "Then let's begin."

That evening, Yang Geyong sat on a stone bench under an apricot tree, with a bowl of milk tea in front of him. The little pony lay at his feet, its head resting on his shoe.

He looked down at it; it was sleeping soundly, its belly rising and falling. Emily came out of the house with a bowl of hot milk tea and sat down next to him.

She handed him the milk tea, but he didn't take it. "Grandpa Yang, what are you thinking about?"

Yang Geyong said, "I'm wondering if this horse will be able to carry me when it grows up."

Emily laughed: "It's still small."

Yang Geyong didn't speak, but reached out and stroked the foal's head. It stirred, shifted its position, and continued sleeping. The wind blew from the Gobi Desert, carrying the scent of sand, past the apricot tree that was beginning to bear fruit, past the fence of the horse ranch, past the ice on the distant Tianshan snow-capped peaks, past the city, and further afield.

That direction leads to the sea. It leads to the port. It leads to those blue dots that Ye Guigen and Yang Chenglong are marking on map after map, dots that are gradually lighting up.

The moon rose, illuminating the entire Gobi Desert like a silver sea.

The very night Ye Guigen received Yang Chenglong's call, he booked a flight back to China. Not back to Junken City, but to the provincial capital.

When he landed at the provincial capital airport, Yang Chenglong was already waiting at the arrival gate.

The two met, but there were no pleasantries or hugs. Ye Guigen simply asked, "Did you bring the money?"

Yang Chenglong said, "I brought it."

Ye Guigen turned and walked out: "Let's go. We'll talk on the way."

The car drove out of the airport and onto the highway. The Gobi Desert outside the window turned a grayish-yellow in the twilight, and the clouds on the horizon were dyed orange-red by the setting sun.

Ye Guigen sat in the passenger seat while Yang Chenglong drove. Neither of them spoke for a long time.

Yang Chenglong spoke first: "Gui Gen, where do you plan to start?"

Ye Guigen didn't answer. He took out a map from his briefcase and unfolded it. The map was large; it was a world map with several points circled in red.

He handed the map to Yang Chenglong: "Look. These are the targets I've already identified. They're all small, unremarkable ports, but they have potential."

"Your grandfather's money can't all be poured in at once; it has to be done step by step. Start with the small amounts, and once you've established a solid foundation, then move on to the larger ones. Take it one step at a time; only with a strong foundation can you build a tall building."

Yang Chenglong glanced at the map: "Where is the first target?"

Ye Guigen pressed his finger firmly on a point on the map:
"Here. On the east coast of Africa, in a small country. The port is not large, but its location is excellent, controlling an important international shipping route. The government of this country has recently put out a tender to sell a portion of the port's equity."

"Several companies are vying for it, from Europe, the Middle East, and Asia. Our advantage is speed; we can act faster than them."

Yang Chenglong was silent for a moment, then asked again, "Are you sure?"

Ye Guigen folded the map neatly: "Confirm."

Yang Chenglong gripped the steering wheel, staring at the road ahead, and asked again, "How do you plan to win?"

Ye Guigen leaned back in his chair, a slight smile playing on his lips: "Money isn't the problem. The problem is, how do we make others think we're broke?"

Neither of them went into details, and Yang Chenglong didn't ask any further questions. He had been strictly following his grandfather's advice: when he didn't understand something, he would listen to Ye Guigen, not ask, and just observe.

Three days later, a small military aircraft took off from the provincial capital's airport. In fact, the military aircraft manufacturing plant had been selling small aircraft for many years, and the market response was quite good. It was just that large aircraft had not kept up.

Moreover, without the groundwork laid by small aircraft over so many years, the airworthiness certificate for large aircraft could not have been approved so quickly.

Although military-owned small aircraft have not become the dominant force like military vehicles, they are still a force to be reckoned with, especially in the private aircraft sector.

The plane certainly didn't belong to Ye Guigen or Yang Chenglong; they weren't qualified to buy a plane owned by a dead man.

But Ye Yuze and Yang Geyong both have them, and since they don't go out much these days, their two grandsons can naturally borrow them.

Their destination was a small country on the east coast of Africa.

There were only two people on the plane: Ye Guigen and Yang Chenglong, plus an assistant and a bodyguard. Ye Guigen sat by the window with his eyes closed, as if he were asleep.

Yang Chenglong sat next to him, clutching his phone, the screen displaying the last message from Yang Geyong: "Don't embarrass yourself."

He stared at those two words for a long time, then put his phone away and took a deep breath.

The phone rang, and Ye Guigen answered it. Ye Rou's sharp voice came through the receiver:
"Gui Gen, I heard you're planning to acquire the port? Why didn't you contact me?"

Ye Guigen smiled and said, "Aunt, why use a sledgehammer to crack a nut? I can handle this!"

The aunt and niece chatted for a few more minutes before hanging up. Ye Guigen then went back to sleep.

The plane landed at the airport in that small country, where waves of heat rolled across the runway. A local official, in a black Toyota SUV, picked them up and took them to the government building in the capital.

The negotiations lasted three days. The other party was a powerful European consortium, and their offer was significantly higher than Ye Guigen's desired price.

Ye Guigen did not raise the price, was in a hurry, or back down; he simply asked the other party to wait a while.

On the afternoon of the third day, Ye Guigen finally had his assistant submit a new proposal.

It's not a price increase, but an adjustment to the payment method: a 30% down payment, with the remaining balance paid in five installments over five years, plus a clause—

If the port's throughput reaches the predetermined target within three years, an additional investment will be automatically allocated for port expansion. Upon hearing this proposal, the other party immediately fell silent.

Ye Guigen's plan has one advantage: others give money, he gives the future; others want shares, he wants a win-win situation.

The other party spent the entire night deliberating, and the next morning, the letter of intent for acquisition was signed. It wasn't a full acquisition, but a minority stake—

A small percentage, but enough to secure a seat on the board. Ye Guigen signed the agreement, put down his pen, stood up, and walked to the window.

Outside the window stretched the boundless Indian Ocean, its azure waters shimmering in the sunlight, and several cargo ships were slowly gliding across the surface. Yang Chenglong stood beside him, watching the cargo ships.

"Ultimately, tell me, among these ships, are there any that will become our own in the future?"

Ye Guigen thought for a moment: "Not now. But it will be in the future."

When the news reached Junken City, Yang Geyong was squatting by the horse pen. After listening to the phone call, he only said one word: "Okay."

Then she hung up the phone, let the pony out of its pen, and took it for a couple of laps in the sunset. Emily stood at the entrance of the stable, watching the silhouettes of the man and the horse grow longer and longer on the ground.

Ye Yuze only learned the news the next day. He sat under the apricot tree, listened to Yang Chenglong's brief report over the phone, and remained silent for a moment before speaking:
"Your grandfather's money was well spent."

He hung up the phone and closed his eyes. The apricot leaves swayed gently in the wind, and sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting dappled patterns of light and shadow on his face.

A breeze blew by, carrying a faint, astringent scent of unripe apricots. He took a deep breath, without opening his eyes. (End of Chapter)