My heart is tied to that sky

As dusk fades and dawn breaks, the humid, hot winds of Shanghai's summer wash over us.

This is at 7:05 a.m. in July 2019, when Tang Muyang pushes open the glass door of the temporary command center of Qingyang Group.

Raindrops from last night still clung to the shoulders of his suit jacket, slowly sliding down the shoulder line and soaking the collar of his shirt.

He didn't go to the seat covered in genuine leather, but instead leaned against the cool projection screen.

He raised his hand and tapped the understated yet substantial mechanical watch on his wrist; the dial reflected a cold, precise light.

"There are 168 days left until the A-share application materials are submitted."

His voice was not loud, but deep and steady, yet it was like nails, piercing into everyone's ears one by one.

"Today, the digital management platform goes live in its first phase. Su Man, you'll be in charge of the system; Zhou Zhengqi, you'll be in charge of the architecture."

"Chen Xingqi, you keep pushing things forward on your end, make sure the task is completed, and assign responsibility to specific individuals."

The entire conference room fell silent instantly, with only the faint sound of airflow from the central air conditioning vents.

On the screen, Chen Xingqi sat upright, nodding in a steady and powerful tone: "Understood, Chairman Tang."

Su Man looked down at the thick project proposal, a black pen between her fingers.

The pen tip traced a cold, clean line across the white paper, crisp and decisive, without a single wasted stroke.

"The data interface has been connected, and all 37 jewelry chain factories and 214 sales outlets across the country will be connected before midnight tonight."

Zhou Zhengqi looked solemn, his glasses reflecting the blue light of the screen, and his tone was as calm as reading a verdict.

"Architecture optimization will be launched simultaneously, and redundant departments will be eliminated by the end of the month."

"Whoever holds the team back should submit their resignation."

His tone was calm, yet it carried an undeniable sense of oppression, making him even more chilling than Su Man.

Li Huixin sat to one side, her fingers flying across the report, checking the numbers with a focused and meticulous expression.

Ye Zhi Qiu sat next to her, the rapid, detailed tapping of his keyboard like a sudden summer rain falling on glass.

Tang Muyang didn't say anything more, his gaze swept past everyone, and he turned to look out the window.

The spire of the tower in Shanghai has just pierced the clouds, standing out against the gray skyline like a needle pointing straight to the future.

The temperature in the conference room was very low, as cold as an icebox, and everyone's breathing was tinged with tension.

Suman walked to the projection screen, where red laser dots moved across the screen.

Precisely tracing the KPI charts of each department, like a sharp knife, cuts through all the luck.

"If the error in production data exceeds 0.5%, the entire factory's performance bonus will be reduced by 25%."

"Don't talk to me about objective reasons, I want results."

Someone below couldn't help but whisper, their voices very low, yet they still carried clearly to the front row.

"This standard is too harsh..."

Just as Zhou Zhengqi was about to speak, Tang Muyang raised his hand to stop him.

His tone was calm, yet carried an undeniable authority.

"Too harsh? If Qingyang wants to return to the A-share market, it has to follow the rules for listed companies."

"If you can't adapt, you can leave now."

As soon as the words were spoken, the murmurs vanished instantly, and the entire conference room became eerily quiet.

Even after the meeting ended, the air conditioning in the corridor was still slightly cool.

Su Man rubbed her temples; the intense work of the past few days had left her with a hint of fatigue in her eyes.

Zhou Zhengqi followed beside her, handing her a glass of lukewarm water at just the right temperature: "Don't push yourself too hard."

She took the water glass, her fingertips inadvertently brushing against the thin calluses on his palm from years of holding pens and typing.

She spoke softly, her voice carrying a barely perceptible tenderness: "You too."

The two walked side by side through the long glass window, where the morning sunlight streamed in at an angle.

Their shadows stretched long, one cold, one hard, standing side by side, yet perfectly aligned.

After everyone left, only Tang Muyang remained in the office.

He sat in the darkness, his fingertips tracing the old fountain pen in the inside pocket of his suit.

Outside the window, the traffic in Shanghai is bustling, and neon lights are flashing; this city never sleeps.

He looked out the window silently, without saying a word.

"Digitalization and going public are not meant to prove how successful I, Tang Muyang, am."

He muttered to himself, his voice echoing in the empty office.

"It's to create a windproof shell for this land."

Three days later, Rainbow Airport.

The morning sun shines brightly through the huge floor-to-ceiling windows, casting a warm glow on the smooth floor.

Tang Muyang was dressed in a dark casual suit, carrying a simple carry-on suitcase, and walked with a steady gait.

Qin Fendou followed closely behind him, holding a thick stack of documents in his arms, his hands clenched tightly.

"The location for the Xiangnan Medical Station has been decided; it will be located deep in the mountains."

"It's situated on high ground, well-ventilated, close to the village, and easy to get in and out."

"The school assistance site has also been selected. It is two kilometers away from the village primary school, with a quiet environment and a wide view."

Li Huixin walked on the other side, her makeup neat and tidy, her expression serious and meticulous.

"The first batch of funds for the 'Love for That Sky' fund has been allocated and all procedures have been completed."

"The first batch of commonly used medicines, medical equipment, and educational supplies will arrive on time next week."

Tang Muyang nodded slightly, without speaking, his expression calm, but a hint of warmth was hidden in his eyes.

The boarding announcement sounded, and a gentle female voice echoed in the waiting hall.

He glanced back at the Shanghai skyline in the distance, where towering cranes stood tall in the center of Qingyun.

It stands out brightly in the sunlight, like a pointer pointing straight to the future, firm and powerful.

The plane soared into the sky, passing through thick clouds, and outside the window was a clear, azure blue.

Tang Muyang closed his eyes, and what came to mind was not reports, KPIs, or the A-share listing plan.

It was more than a decade ago, when a barefoot boy in the mountains of southern Hunan walked on a muddy dirt road, his toes filled with yellow mud.

Beside the dusty construction site, the makeshift tents were packed with people.

The air was filled with the smells of earth, sweat, and a faint medicinal odor; it was stuffy and crowded.

Tang Muyang squatted on the ground and gently applied a fever-reducing patch to a little boy whose face was flushed and whose forehead was burning hot.

The child looked at him timidly, his big eyes filled with fear, his little hands tightly clutching the dirty hem of his clothes.

"What are you afraid of?"

He smiled, revealing a set of neat white teeth, his tone gentle and carrying a familiar warmth.

"Your uncle used to herd cattle here too. He was even thinner and more shy than you."

The child's eyes lit up immediately, and she stared at him curiously, whispering, "So how did you end up in the big city?"

He paused, looked up at the distant, rolling green hills, his gaze distant yet resolute.

"Because someone told me that there is a better world beyond the mountains."

"Now, I want you to be able to see that world without having to go out."

Qin Fendou stood aside, watching the scene before him, and quietly raised his hand to wipe the corner of his eye, his eyes slightly red.

Li Huixin stood at the tent entrance, her head bowed as she carefully wrote in the register, her pen trembling slightly.

The mountains in southern Hunan are still lush and green, with layers upon layers of peaks that stretch as far as the eye can see.

The wind swept through the mountains and forests, carrying the fragrance of grass and trees, and gently brushed against everyone's cheeks.

The groundbreaking ceremony was simple, unpretentious, solemn, and devoid of any extravagance.

There was no red carpet, no flowers, no superfluous speeches from leaders, and no extravagance.

There is only a simple blue stone tablet with the words "Qingyang Education Assistance Center" engraved on it in neat and powerful characters.

Tang Muyang took the shovel and bent down to shovel the first handful of soil.

Dirt flew up and landed on his gleaming black leather shoes, but he didn't care, his expression solemn and serious.

The primary school principal next to him held his hand tightly, repeatedly saying thank you with a choked voice.

He gently shook his head, his gaze sincere and earnest: "I'm the one who should be saying thank you. Without the teachers here, without this mountain, I wouldn't be who I am today."

The school bell rang crisply, and the children, like a flock of happy little birds, poured out of the classroom and chattered as they gathered around the stone tablet.

Curiously touching the stone tablet, they chatted amongst themselves, their eyes filled with joy and anticipation.

Tang Muyang stood outside the crowd, quietly watching this scene, a slight smile unconsciously creeping onto his lips.

Suddenly, I remembered that many years ago, I did the same thing, lying on my worn-out desk, writing four characters stroke by stroke.

Leaving the mountains.

At the end of September, the lingering summer heat was still intense, with the sun blazing and the air feeling scorching.

The Qingyun Center has finally been completed and accepted. Its towering glass curtain wall reflects the dazzling sunlight, shining brightly.

Tang Muyang stepped into the top-floor office, his feet still covered in unwrapped packaging paper.

Huge floor-to-ceiling windows open up the view, with the Pudong River meandering like a ribbon, flowing quietly through the center of the city.

The project director followed quickly behind, speaking rapidly as he reported on the various finishing touches.

"30 days until renovation, the smart office system has been fully tested and debugged."

"A private elevator leads directly to the underground parking garage, with the highest level of security and fully enclosed management."

Tang Muyang didn't listen carefully. He slowly walked to the French windows and reached out to touch the inside pocket of his suit jacket.

There lay an old fountain pen, its touch familiar and warm.

He gently pulled out the pen, his fingertips softly tracing the faint scratch on the cap.

That was when I was 20 years old. I fell in a rainstorm in the special economic zone, and the mark left by my pen hitting the cement ground was the result of that fall.

The setting sun shone through the floor-to-ceiling windows, bathing the fountain pen in a warm, golden light, both soft and dazzling.

He recalled many scenes, which slowly surfaced in his mind.

I remember the first time I signed a contract, I was so nervous that my palms were sweating, and the ink from my pen smeared on the paper, forming an ugly period.

I remember the first time I bought a factory, I was both excited and nervous. My pen was soaked with sweat and gleamed as I held it tightly in my hand.

He recalled the first time Gong Yiqing handed him her design draft many years ago. The pen cap still had a faint smell of chalk, and she looked clean and gentle.

He gently unscrewed the pen cap; the nib remained sharp, and the writing flowed smoothly, just as it had in the past.

This old fountain pen accompanied him from being a cowherd to becoming the head of a group company, through thick and thin, and he never lost it once.

Unlike those expensive and exquisite pens, it is a part of his being, bearing witness to half a lifetime of trials and tribulations and his original aspirations.

At the end of December, the temperature in Shanghai plummeted, and soft, delicate snowflakes drifted outside the window, quiet and gentle.

Gong Yiqing squatted on the living room floor, carefully packing her suitcase, a red scarf casually draped over her shoulders.

Tang Zhenyang lay on the sofa, engrossed in playing on his tablet, occasionally glancing up at the snowflakes falling outside the window.

Tang Shiyang stood beside her mother, her small hands clumsily but earnestly folding a scarf for her mother, looking well-behaved and adorable.

Tang Muyang came out of the study, carrying two brand-new cartoon backpacks with the same design as those from Xiangnan Elementary School.

"I bought you the same schoolbags as those from Xiangnan Elementary School, so you can use them when you get back."

Tang Zhenyang looked up, his eyes clear and bright, and asked curiously, "Dad, is there a signal in the mountains? Will my tablet work?"

He smiled, his eyes gentle, his tone relaxed: "Not only is there a signal, but the air in the mountains is fresh, and the scenery is even more beautiful."

Five-year-old Tang Shiyang immediately hugged his arm and rubbed her little face against his sleeve.

She said softly, "I want to see Grandpa herding cattle, and I want to see the hillside where Dad herded cattle when he was a child."

He gently stroked his daughter's soft hair, his tone both affectionate and firm.

"Okay, I'll take you to see the hillside where Dad used to graze cattle, to see the Fuyi River, and to see our old home."

The train traveled smoothly through the long tunnel, with light and shadow constantly flashing across the windows, creating an interplay of light and dark.

Tang Zhenyang leaned against the window, pointing curiously at the terraced fields outside, layer upon layer, yellow and green.

"Dad, is that the checkered fabric you drew before?"

Tang Muyang looked at the familiar scenery outside the window, nodded gently, and felt a slight tightness in his throat.

Gong Yiqing leaned quietly on his shoulder and spoke softly, teasing him gently.

"If Dad finds out we're coming back, he'll probably slaughter the old hen!"

He held her hand tightly, his fingertips gently brushing against the calluses on the back of her hand, calloused from years of hard work.

"Haha, the free-range chicken tastes so good." Tang Muyang laughed heartily.

Gong Yiqing smiled too, with faint fine lines at the corners of her eyes, her gaze gentle yet firm: "This is the taste of home."

As the train entered Shaoyang, the distant mountains stretched out in layers, their dark green peaks shrouded in a thin mist.

The Fuyi River, like a soft, emerald-green ribbon, quietly winds around the villages and towns along its course, gentle and serene.

The town where Tang Muyang's hometown is now is no longer the bumpy, muddy dirt road he remembers.

The main roads have all been upgraded from white to black, and the road surface is smooth, shiny, clean and tidy.

The shop signs along the street are neat and uniform, and strings of red lanterns hang under the eaves, creating a festive atmosphere that is even stronger and warmer than in Shanghai.

Sturdy railings and clean walkways have been built along the Fuyi River scenic belt.

In the evening, elderly people stroll leisurely, and children chase and run, creating a lively and heartwarming scene.

People in the town often say that the rapid changes in their hometown in recent years are due half to policies and half to people like Mu Yang who have left but are willing to return.

The SUV slowly came to a stop on the outskirts of the crowd. As soon as it came to a stop, it was recognized by a sharp-eyed villager.

"Mu Yang! Mu Yang is back!"

Someone shouted, and the street, which had been bustling like a market day, instantly erupted in excitement.

A crowd surged forward, forming deep layers, their faces beaming with genuine smiles.

There were elderly people with white hair leaning on canes, women holding children, and childhood friends who used to go barefoot fishing together.

There were also fellow villagers who had returned from working in the southern special economic zones and various parts of Guangdong and Zhejiang, their eyes filled with warmth and joy.

Everyone was laughing, shouting, and patting each other on the shoulder, as if the New Year had arrived early—it was lively and heartwarming.

Tang Muyang opened the car door, and Gong Yiqing, holding Tang Zhenyang and Tang Shiyang's hands, slowly got out of the car beside him.

He clasped his hands together, looking at the familiar yet unfamiliar faces before him, his Adam's apple bobbing slightly.

"Uncle, Aunt, Big Brother, Big Sister, I, Mu Yang, am back."

Among the crowd was Mr. Li, the strict teacher who had forced him to memorize texts back then. His hair was completely white, but he was still in good spirits.

He looked at Tang Muyang with a pleased expression and a touch of emotion in his voice: "Muyang has made something of himself; he hasn't forgotten his roots."

Tang Muyang stepped forward quickly, bowed slightly, and spoke with sincere respect.

"Teacher, without you forcing me to study and memorize texts back then, I wouldn't have been able to leave this mountain, and I wouldn't be where I am today."

The crowd automatically parted to form a warm path leading to the entrance archway of the Fuyi Jinyuan Phase II residential complex not far away.

Beige buildings lined up neatly along the river, with green trees planted on the ground floor and simple fitness equipment.

The second phase of construction was completed not long ago, and many residents have already moved in ahead of schedule, cleaning windows, putting up Spring Festival couplets, and hanging lanterns, creating a lively and festive atmosphere.

The villagers said with smiles that after the first phase was completed and people moved in, many young people who were working away from home wanted to come back to buy houses and settle down.

Tang Pingsheng and Jiang Dashu made a special trip back from Changsha, as they have been handling various procedures and coordinating relationships in the town for many years.

The local authorities also provided exceptional support. Qingyang's hometown is not just about houses, but also about giving the people of his hometown a sense of security and peace of mind.

Tang Pingsheng strode forward from the crowd, still with his usual cheerful and decisive demeanor.

With a hearty smile, he said, "Brother, my brother-in-law and I just got back too. Phase two is finished, and I'm even more excited than you are. We've been waiting for you to come back."

Huang Huifang walked over, warmly took Gong Yiqing's hand, and said in a gentle tone, "Sister-in-law, you must be tired from your journey!"

Jiang Dashu carried a string of bright red firecrackers, his smile honest and simple.

"Muyang, I'm overseeing all the construction projects in town. You can rest assured about the quality; there's absolutely no compromise."

Tang Xiuying squeezed through the crowd, looking at her younger brother's family of four, her voice choked with emotion: "Muyang, it's been several years since we last met."

Tang Muyang's eyes welled up with tears, and he stepped forward to give his brother and brother-in-law a tight hug: "Brother, brother-in-law, Xiaoxiang and Jinyuan, thank you for your hard work."

Li Xiao and Tang Jianguo stood guard on either side of the car door, like two door gods.

Tang Jianguo, still clutching a stack of business cards from the Shanghai branch that he hadn't finished distributing, grinned from ear to ear and patted Tang Muyang's shoulder forcefully: "Good lad, you didn't even tell me you were coming back! I almost led the team to the provincial border to pick you up!"

Li Xiao chimed in, casually hooking his arm around Tang Muyang's: "That's right, our Shanghai branch is incredibly expensive right now. You'll have to treat us when you get back, or I'll have Su Man double your KPIs!"

Red lanterns hang high beneath the archway of Fuyi Jinyuan, their warm light spreading out like a smile.

77-year-old Tang Zhiye wore an old Zhongshan suit that was stiff from washing, his silver hair was slightly shiny, and his back was straight.

Tang Muyang stepped forward to help his father: "Dad, please stand in the middle." The old man squeezed his son's wrist hard, the force was solid.

Gong Yiqing stood close to Tang Muyang, gentle and resolute; her brother and sister's families surrounded her from behind, each with a pair of children around them happily.

The son, Tang Zhenyang, pulled his younger sister, Tang Shiyang, and skipped and jumped to the front of their parents, looking up at the camera with their innocent little faces.

The shutter clicked, capturing the image of the white-haired father, the reliable elder brother, and the beloved wife beside him with Tang Zhenyang and Tang Shiyang at their feet.

The backdrop is a brand-new building and the tranquil Fuyi River, while on the opposite bank, the old brick walls of the Tangtian Wartime Academy stand as they were.

As Tang Muyang watched all this, he silently thought to himself: This life has been worthwhile.

In the community's activity center, long wooden tables were arranged in a U-shape, and a lively banquet was being held.

The savory aroma of preserved meat, the spicy freshness of blood duck, and the sweet and glutinous texture of glutinous rice cakes mingled with the pure and mellow flavor of rice wine, filling the table with authentic hometown tastes.

The town mayor raised his glass and stood up, his voice brimming with enthusiasm: "Our hometown town has wider roads and more beautiful scenery!"

"Thanks to Mu Yang for bringing Qingyang Group back to his hometown to cultivate the land, I thank you on behalf of the town for your original aspiration."

Tang Muyang held the cup with both hands, his gaze sweeping over the simple, honest faces, his voice steady and calm.

"Muyang grew up in this land, and it is his duty to contribute to his hometown."

"Therefore, we are grateful to the government of the town mayor's hometown for its support of Muyang. It was only with this support that Qingyang Hometown was successfully established in 08 and has developed to this day."

"Seeing my fellow villagers settle down in Fuyi Jinyuan gives me more satisfaction than signing contracts worth hundreds of millions in Shanghai."

"This glass is a toast to our hometown, to all our fellow villagers."

"A tribute to my hometown, a place of bright sunshine!"

The applause was thunderous, and the sounds of clinking glasses and laughter filled the air with a warm and lively atmosphere, echoing with an unbreakable sense of hometown camaraderie.

**Tang Jianguo, holding a wine glass, stood up and shouted, "Come on, everyone, let's toast Chairman Tang! Let's toast our big boss of Qingyang!"**

Li Xiao joined in the commotion, slamming his fist on the table and shouting, "To the big boss! To his wife! To the future of Qingyang!"

After dinner, as night fell, Tang Muyang led his wife Gong Yiqing, son Tang Zhenyang, and daughter Tang Shiyang to the Fuyi River.

In the night, the Fuyi River ripples with light, and the lights of the ancient town in the distance are gently reflected on the water.

Tang Zhenyang squatted by the river, curiously reaching out his hand, his fingertips almost touching the cool river water, his eyes full of wonder.

"Dad, is this the river where you used to herd cattle and catch fish when you were a child?"

"Um."

He crouched down to be at eye level with his children, his tone gentle yet solemn: "Dad started his journey from this riverbank, and now, I want to start here and bring back more things."

Tang Shiyang spoke softly, her voice tinged with dependence, "Daddy, will you always come back?"

"meeting."

He gently stroked his daughter's soft hair, his eyes resolute: "As long as this river exists, as long as these mountains exist, we will definitely come back."

On the banks of the Fuyi River, the night deepened, and a cool evening breeze carried the moist scent of the river.

Tang Muyang and Gong Yiqing strolled side by side along the path, quiet and gentle.

He stopped and looked at the distant, undulating mountain ranges, his voice low and firm.

"When I left here, I vowed to change this mountain and this land."

Gong Yiqing held his hand tightly, her palm warm, and said in a gentle yet firm tone, "Now, you've done it."

He shook his head slightly, his voice exceptionally clear in the quiet night breeze: "Not yet. Once the A-share listing is successful, I want to build better hospitals, better schools, and better roads here."

She smiled, leaned gently on his shoulder, and said softly, "I'll stay with you, together."

He took out his phone, and the screen lit up, displaying a high-definition rendering of the center of Qingyun.

Skyscrapers rise high, piercing the clouds, like a pen pointing straight to the heavens, firm and powerful.

He gazed at the screen, then at the distant mountains, and spoke softly, as if making a solemn vow to this land.

"At the peak of success, we never forget where we came from. We serve our country through industry and remain devoted to our homeland."

The evening breeze gently blew by, scattering his words into the night, but it could not dispel the determination and persistence in his eyes.

On the fifth day of the first lunar month, the morning mist had not yet dissipated, and the air was cool and humid.

Tang Zhiye stood at the threshold of the old house, quietly watching his family get into the car. His figure was hunched, but he was still as upright as a mountain.

Tang Zhenyang rolled down the car window, stuck his little head out, and waved loudly, "Grandpa, next time I'll bring a drone back and film you herding cattle!"

Tang Shiyang peeked out, waving her little hands vigorously, her voice soft and sweet: "Goodbye, Grandpa! We'll be back soon!"

As the car slowly drove away, Tang Muyang watched his father's figure grow smaller and smaller in the rearview mirror.

Like a silent mountain, it stands quietly at the village entrance, guarding its homeland and waiting for the wanderers to return.

The train sped along, and the fields, forests, and villages outside the window rushed past, with the light and shadow constantly changing.

Tang Muyang opened his laptop, the blue light from the screen illuminating his calm face.

The document title is clear and eye-catching: "Qingyang Group A-Share Listing Preparation Plan (Final Version)".

Gong Yiqing leaned quietly on his shoulder and spoke softly, her tone gentle and considerate: "If you're tired, lean on my shoulder and sleep for a while, no rush."

He gently closed his laptop, looked up at the window, and gazed in the direction of Shanghai.

The horizon gradually became clear in the morning light, bright and full of hope.

"Not tired."

He spoke in a low voice, his tone firm and his eyes bright: "Building a solid foundation through industry, remaining true to our original aspirations as we move forward, this journey has only just begun."

Time flows silently, from the passionate battles of midsummer to the warm return at the end of the year, and then to the new journey in early spring.

This journey in 2019 was a crucial step in Qingyang Industrial's digital transformation.

It is also a heartfelt reflection on Tang Muyang's burning passion for his hometown and his desire to give back to his roots.

The road ahead is long, but the journey is like a rainbow. The legend of Qingyang and himself continues to be written.