One person said: The essence of Wuhou Qimen lies not in Qimen, but in Wuhou.

[It turns out that no matter how the universe changes, the end is always the civil service exam. Friendly reminder: Dear readers, please be sure to address people by their job titles during work hours and maintain awareness.]

If you don't like this, please don't enter. This is a contest of traditional Chinese culture; serious inquiries only, and trolls please stay away.

Office of a department-level official in the Zhejiang Provincial Government Building.

The afternoon sunlight filtered through the gaps in the blinds, cutting neat stripes of light onto the dark red desk.

Six telephones, each a different color, sat side by side on the table, like a silent order—red, black, blue, green, white, and brown, each line leading to a different power node.

The red line is a direct line, not to be used except for major matters. It is the quietest and most important of the six telephone lines. The black line is an encrypted internal line, used exclusively for confidential calls at the bureau level and above, to prevent eavesdropping and interception. The blue line connects provincial-level agencies and their affiliated units, serving as the main artery for daily administrative scheduling. The green line is for petitions and public service hotlines, connecting with the grassroots and directly reaching the people. The white line is for meetings with people from all walks of life, including businesses, chambers of commerce, and industry associations—those outside the system who need to communicate with the system. As for the brown line, it is for emergency matters, such as work safety, sudden incidents, and major public opinion events. Once it rings, it means someone has to write a statement overnight.

Six telephones, six colors, six dimensions of power.

At that moment, a person was sitting behind the desk.

He had neat, slicked-back dark blue hair, with each strand meticulously combed back to reveal a smooth, full forehead.

His skin was so fair that he didn't look like someone who needed to hunch over a desk all year round. Thin-rimmed glasses sat on his high nose bridge, and his eyes behind the lenses were calm and indifferent, as if nothing could stir his emotions.

The white shirt was pressed without a single wrinkle, the cuffs were buttoned up neatly, and the black suit jacket was draped over the back of the chair. He exuded an aura from the inside out—not just the air of an official, but the composure that came from a blend of elite sense and the demeanor of a superior.

Zhuge Ming is the acting director of the Zhejiang Provincial Government Building, a first-level inspector of Zhejiang Province, and a director-general level official.

His gaze fell on a document.

The document's red header title was neatly printed—

Application Report on Holding Religious Activities (Luotian Grand Ritual) at the Tianshi Mansion on Longhu Mountain, Shangqing Town, Guixi City, Yingtan City, Jiangxi Province.

This report is written in a very formal and standard format, with appropriate wording; it is clearly written by an experienced writer.

The applicant is "Zhengyi Dao Longhushan Tianshi Mansion", the reason for the application is "Luotian Grand Ritual Traditional Religious Activity", the scale of the activity is estimated to include the number of participants, and the safety plan, fire protection plan and medical support are all clearly listed. The attachments also include the preliminary review opinion of Yingtan City Religious Affairs Bureau and the local management commitment letter of Guixi City.

Zhuge Ming flipped through two pages, his expression unchanged.

His slender fingers tapped the paper twice, then he closed the document and placed it on the table—neither in the "pending approval" pile nor the "returned" pile.

This is an attitude: put it aside.

Just then, the red hotline rang.

The ringtone wasn't loud, but it was clear enough in the quiet office.

Zhuge Ming glanced at the red telephone, his brows twitching slightly.

The red hotline doesn't ring often, but when it does, it's never a small matter.

He picked up the phone, his voice calm and steady: "Hello, who is this?"

A middle-aged man's voice came from the other end of the phone, carrying a familiar confidence: "I am your father, Zhuge Gong!"

Zhuge Ming's expression remained completely unchanged; he didn't even raise an eyebrow.

His voice remained calm, but every word seemed to have been extracted from regulations: "I've said it so many times, when you're at work, you should use your job title."

There was silence on the other end of the phone.

It wasn't just ordinary silence; it was the kind of silence one feels when someone has choked them with a single sentence and is processing their anger.

It lasted for about three seconds.

Then, Zhuge Gong's voice rang out again, but this time it was clearly suppressed with anger, and his tone had changed, carrying a sense of forced reluctance and deliberate officialdom: "Zhuge Gong, Party Branch Secretary of Zhuge Bagua Village, Lanxi City, Zhejiang Province, reports to Leader Zhuge Ming!"

Zhuge Ming leaned back in his chair, his left hand casually resting on the armrest, his right hand holding the microphone. His tone was unhurried, as if he were giving a new clerk a pre-job training: "Comrade, your awareness needs improvement. Village work reports must follow the proper procedures. You should report to the township first, then to the county, then to the city, and finally to the province. You, a village party secretary, picking up the phone and dialing the 'red hotline'—what do you call that? That's called reporting beyond your proper level."

He paused, his tone becoming more earnest, but his "leadership demeanor" remained firmly in place: "With you doing this, where is the township government? Where is the county government? Where is the municipal government? You've skipped them all, isn't that chaos? Following the proper procedures is of paramount importance; you must understand this. The special red hotline is a national resource; don't waste it. Any other questions?"

A clear, muffled thud came from the other end of the phone, like something being thrown to the ground, or like a fist slamming onto a table.

Then came Zhuge Gong's voice, choked with gritted teeth: "Zhuge Ming!"

Zhuge Ming coughed lightly and corrected, "Or, Comrade Zhuge Gong—if it's not a work-related issue, please call my cell phone."

Zhuge Gong's voice was almost squeezed out through clenched teeth, filled with an angry "I'm going to die of rage" tone: "Why didn't you answer your cell phone when I called you?"

"Comrade, it's working hours now."

Zhuge Ming's voice remained businesslike, neither hurried nor arrogant, "If you have any private questions, please call my cell phone after get off work."

After saying that, he hung up the phone.

Decisive and efficient, without the slightest hesitation.

The office returned to silence.

Zhuge Ming glanced at the landline phone on the red hotline, his lips seemed to twitch slightly, but he quickly regained his calm expression.

He turned his gaze back to the table, moved the application report for the Luo Tian Grand Ceremony aside, and picked up another document.

This document carries far more weight than the application for religious activities.

The cover bears a bright red official seal, and the title is—

Notification Regarding the Appointment and Removal of Comrade Zhuge Ming.

The main text is concise and powerful, following the standard format for appointment and removal documents:

"Based on work needs, and after careful consideration, it has been decided to appoint Comrade Zhuge Ming as a first-level inspector of Jiangxi Province, responsible for the inspection and supervision of relevant departments; at the same time, he will also serve as the director of the Party Committee Inspection Office of the state-owned enterprise Nadutong Company."

The Party Committee Inspection Office focuses on mobile supervision, and is responsible for inspecting and supervising major regions across the country. It can go deep into the front line to discover problems, propose rectification opinions, and report directly to the Party Committee.

This appointment is effective from the date of its issuance.

The document bears two seals, one from the organization department and the other from the State-owned Assets Supervision and Administration Commission.

Zhuge Ming closed the file, rested his elbows on the table, interlaced his fingers to support his chin, and slowly closed his eyes.

Sunlight shifted slightly through the gaps in the blinds, landing on his closed eyelids and casting a warm red glow.

Time is like a wild donkey; once it starts running, it never stops.

Twenty-five years have passed.

Zhuge Ming suddenly felt a little dazed.

He remembered the past—not the past of this world, but the past of another world, another "past".