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

"The overall progress of agricultural and rural work in Lanxi City has been effective," his voice was steady and clear, not loud, but every word clearly reached the ears of everyone present. "The red line for arable land protection has been well maintained, and the progress of high-standard farmland construction ranks among the top in the province's county-level cities. However—"

He paused, and the "but" made the director of the Lanxi City Agriculture and Rural Affairs Bureau subconsciously take out his notebook.

"Improving comprehensive grain production capacity cannot rely solely on maintaining the bottom line. We must take proactive measures. In terms of agricultural industrialization, we need to further optimize the planting structure, increase the promotion of high-quality grain and oil varieties, and enhance the technological content and added value of grain production. At the same time, we must focus on the core issue of increasing farmers' income. Agricultural subsidies must be ensured to be distributed to households on time and in full, and pro-farmer policies must reach the last mile, not remain suspended in mid-air and fail to materialize."

The director of the Lanxi City Agriculture and Rural Affairs Bureau, writing fluently without looking up, replied, "Director Zhuge's instructions are very insightful! Our city's Agriculture and Rural Affairs Bureau will fully implement the provincial department's work plan, further strengthen the protection and improvement of arable land quality, ensure that the grain planting area only increases and does not decrease, and that grain output steadily rises. At the same time, we will ensure the accurate distribution of agricultural subsidies, so that every farmer can truly enjoy the benefits of national policies!"

Zhuge Ming nodded slightly, then raised his hand and pointed to the well-preserved Ming and Qing dynasty architectural complex in the village.

With its blue tiles and white walls, the staggered gable walls and the octagonal alleyways winding and crisscrossing between the buildings, the view from above is a complete Tai Chi Bagua diagram.

"Although Lanxi City is a county-level city, it has a profound cultural heritage. Zhuge Bagua Village, as a national key cultural relics protection unit, has unique resource advantages in the protection of traditional villages and the integrated development of culture and tourism."

His voice held a warmth, as if he were talking about something from his own home. "Why did the province come to Zhuge Town for this inspection? It's to conduct in-depth research on feasible paths for the coordinated promotion of cultural heritage and rural revitalization. Culture is the soul, and industry is the root; neither can be lacking."

As soon as he finished speaking, Zhuge Zheng took a step forward at just the right moment.

Today, the town party secretary was wearing a dark gray suit, his hair was neatly combed, and his expression struck a perfect balance between professionalism and enthusiasm.

He turned slightly to the side and introduced himself to Zhuge Ming in a respectful yet dignified manner: "Director Zhuge, our Zhuge Town is the largest settlement of descendants of Zhuge Liang, the Prime Minister of Shu Han during the Three Kingdoms period, and has a history of nearly seven hundred years."

The village layout of Zhuge Bagua Village is designed entirely according to the Eight Trigrams Formation of the ancestor Zhuge Liang. It is the largest settlement of Zhuge Liang's descendants discovered in the country to date.

We possess the national-level intangible cultural heritage "Zhuge Village Ancestor Worship Ceremony," the provincial-level intangible cultural heritage "Zhuge Traditional Chinese Medicine Culture," and a complete Ming and Qing dynasty architectural complex, with over two hundred existing ancient buildings, earning us the reputation of "living fossils of traditional Jiangnan village architecture."

Zhuge Zheng had clearly done his homework; he could readily recall every piece of data, and his speech was neither too fast nor too slow, conveying information clearly without making it seem like he was deliberately trying to impress.

He then changed the subject, his tone becoming more earnest and expectant: "Recently, our Zhuge Town is following the unified plan of the municipal party committee and government to vigorously develop the cultural tourism industry. With Zhuge Bagua Village as the core scenic area, we are integrating surrounding resources such as agricultural sightseeing, traditional Chinese medicine health care, and folk experience, striving to create a well-known cultural tourism town in the province and even the country."

In this process, we also face some practical difficulties—for example, the scenic area's infrastructure needs further improvement, the visitor service center is still relatively small, and the construction of the smart tourism system is still in its initial stage. We hope the province can provide us with some policy guidance and special funding support!

After listening, Zhuge Ming showed a faint smile on his face.

He didn't reply immediately, but turned around, his gaze passing over Zhuge Zheng and landing on the well-arranged ancient building complex in the distance.

Sunlight shines between the green tiles and white walls, outlining deep and shallow shadows, as if a three-dimensional Bagua diagram is spread out between heaven and earth.

"The purpose of this inspection by the provincial authorities is to understand the situation on the ground, bring back the research findings, and formulate actionable and implementable plans and solutions, rather than just making empty promises."

His tone was neither too loud nor too soft, but every word hit the nail on the head: "Cultural heritage cannot just be hung on the wall or placed in a display case; it must be brought to life and made popular, integrated into the grand framework of rural revitalization. The protection and development of Zhuge Bagua Village should be considered within the overall framework of cultural and tourism integration in the province. The province will coordinate and study relevant support policies and funding arrangements based on the survey results."

He turned his head slightly, his gaze sweeping over the crowd, his voice carrying a touch of personal emotion: "I am also a child from Zhuge Bagua Village in Zhuge Town, Lanxi City. I grew up here and have feelings for every blade of grass, every brick and tile in the village. I care more about the cultural heritage of Zhuge Bagua Village than anyone else. The province will definitely support us."

This statement, though made lightly, carries significant weight.

The town and city leaders present nodded in unison, their expressions shifting between "deeply moved" and "deeply inspired."

The frequency with which media reporters pressed the shutter was noticeably increased.

Standing at the very edge of the crowd, Zhuge Gong's feelings at this moment were so complex that they were hard to describe.

He stood ramrod straight.

As the Party Branch Secretary of Zhuge Bagua Village, he had to be present on such occasions.

His white shirt was starched until it was stiff, the collar was buttoned up to the top, the creases of his trousers were so straight they could cut tofu, and his leather shoes were so shiny they could be used as mirrors.

He wore a standard welcoming smile, the curve of his lips precise to the millimeter, and his hands were neatly folded in front of him, his posture even more standard than when he participated in the village party secretary training years ago.

But the problem is—there were too many leaders present.

The mayor, the deputy secretary of the municipal party committee, the director of the municipal agriculture and rural affairs bureau, the town party secretary, the town mayor, the deputy town mayor, and dozens of accompanying personnel from the province surrounded Zhuge Ming in layers.

Zhuge Gong, the village party secretary, stood on the outermost layer. It was inappropriate for him to even squeeze in, let alone report his work.

To put it bluntly, in an inspection team of this caliber, he doesn't deserve to stand at the front.

So he could only stand.

Standing ramrod straight with a smile on his face, he resembled a telephone pole nailed to the ground.

He was experiencing a tsunami in his heart.

His own son—the "rebellious son" he had scolded for the entire afternoon—was standing less than twenty meters away from him, surrounded by a group of city leaders, the national emblem on his chest gleaming in the sunlight. Every movement and expression exuded the composure and calmness of someone in a position of power.

He himself could only stand on the outermost layer, waiting to be called by name, like a new recruit waiting for inspection.