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

Zhuge Qing remained as composed as ever.

He leaned back in his chair, squinting, his expression calm and composed.

But if you look closely at the corner of his mouth—the curve is trembling very subtly, with a high frequency and a small amplitude, as if an invisible finger is gently flicking it.

He picked up the teacup and brought it to his lips, cleverly using the rim to cover the lower half of his face.

Zhuge Ming quickly picked up the conversation. He couldn't let his great-uncle's anger flare up too much—after all, the main focus today wasn't who was being scolded, but the dishes and his mother's hard work all morning: "Great-uncle, please don't be angry. Getting angry is bad for your health. You need to take care of yourself. Do you think I don't know my father? He has a sharp tongue but a soft heart—look at how he poured me tea just now, he was more attentive than if he were serving a leader. He still cares about me, his son. After all, I'm his own son, not someone picked up from a garbage dump or dug out of the ground."

Zhuge Zheng snorted heavily, his anger still simmering, and glared fiercely at Zhuge Gong: "Hmph! He's the one who was picked out of the trash heap! You, Zhuge Ming, are a true and pure-blooded prodigy of my Zhuge Wuhou family!"

After he finished scolding, he turned back to look at Zhuge Ming. The anger on his face instantly turned into heartache and concern, and his tone softened, carrying the nagging tone unique to an elder: "Xiao Ming, how is your health? Your uncle knows about that thing called the Inner Realm. Those who peek into the secrets of heaven will be harmed by heaven itself. Tell your uncle the truth, don't hide anything from him."

Zhuge Ming smiled, rolled up his sleeve a little to reveal a faded scar on his wrist, and joked in a deliberately relaxed tone, "Don't worry, you know my talent, don't you? My cultivation hasn't declined over the years. It's just that last time there was a very important experiment that required deducing the results of key parameters, and I tried to save time by pushing it in my inner vision—I didn't expect to use too much force and vomit a lot of blood, which scared the leaders, and they insisted that I rest and recover. Actually, it's not a big deal, I can just eat some pig liver to replenish my blood. The pig's trotters my mom stewed today are even more effective than pig liver."

Zhuge Zheng did not laugh.

He stretched out his hand, covered in age spots, and pressed it heavily on Zhuge Ming's shoulder. With a slight pressure from his five fingers, the warm force from his palm was steadily transmitted to Zhuge Ming's shoulder through the shoulder pads of his suit and the fabric of his shirt.

The old man's eyes were a little red, but there were no tears; there was just something indescribable in his gaze.

He remained silent for a while, then slowly spoke in a tone that was not that of a town party secretary but that of an elder.

"Xiaoming, you've always been a very conscious child, always wanting to serve your country and the people—that's a noble ambition, and your third uncle is proud of you. But you must also take care of your health. The Inner Realm is something that, while revealing heavenly secrets, can harm oneself, shorten one's lifespan, and damage one's very foundation. Countless brilliant ancestors throughout history have suffered greatly because of it. You can't take it lightly just because you're young. Use it as little as possible, and if you don't have to, don't use it at all—promise me, your third uncle."

Zhuge Ming's smile faded, and he nodded seriously: "Don't worry, Third Uncle. I value my life. There are over a billion people in China, with abundant talent and a plethora of capable individuals. Now that we are reforming and opening up, and the country wants to become a technologically strong nation, what we need are truly knowledgeable and talented people—to be honest, there are quite a few extraordinary individuals as well, and they are all very enlightened. There are quite a few extraordinary individuals who are willing to dedicate themselves to the cause of national defense science and technology. If I were to try to glimpse the secrets of heaven using only the inner vision of our Wuhou Sect, I would be dead long ago."

He reached out and tapped his temple with his index finger, a calm smile returning to his lips: "It still comes down to brains—all those years of studying haven't been wasted."

"Okay, okay, okay!"

Zhuge Zheng said "good" six times in a row, patted Zhuge Ming's shoulder heavily, smoothed out all the wrinkles on his face, and smiled from ear to ear. His expression was like that of an old farmer looking at the strongest seedling in his field, with joy and satisfaction emanating from the bottom of his heart.

Zhuge Gong, who was standing next to him, also breathed a long sigh of relief.

He finally breathed a sigh of relief—his son was alright, his son was in good health, and his son could even joke around.

He smiled too, a faint but genuine smile.

That smile appeared on that face, flushed red from being scolded and filled with embarrassment and awkwardness, yet it was unexpectedly harmonious and natural. It was the father's smile, not the village secretary's.

The atmosphere finally eased at this moment, and the whole room was filled with the aroma of pig's trotters and a rare, genuine warmth of home.

Just then, Zhuge Bai put down his chopsticks, looked up, and stared at Zhuge Ming with bright blue eyes. His small face was full of seriousness and eagerness—the tears he had just suppressed were still hanging on his eyelashes, but now they had been completely pushed aside by a more important question.

"Second brother," his voice was crisp and clear, carrying the straightforwardness and eagerness unique to young people, "Do you think my eldest brother and I can pass the civil service exam and become officials? How high-ranking officials could we become? I want to be an official too!"

Upon hearing this, Zhuge Ming glanced at his two "younger brothers" and then nodded seriously.

His expression switched to "answering questions" mode, his tone gentle and patient, as if he were giving a pre-job training to a new employee: "Of course you can. The civil service exam is open to everyone. As long as you meet the educational requirements and pass the background check, you can take the exam. You'll be ranked according to your written exam score to enter the interview stage. The process is open and transparent. I remember your older brother became a civil servant last year, didn't he? However, I'm not particularly familiar with the specific exam process. I'm not very clear on the recruitment policies in our city or province—after all, your second brother went through the central government's selection process for doctoral graduates, so I really don't have any specific advice to give you."

Zhuge Bai's mouth opened into a small "O" shape, then slowly closed, his admiration deepening: "Ah, Second Brother, you're so outstanding! My eldest brother and I don't have such high educational backgrounds, we didn't even get into Tsinghua University... and my eldest brother resigned from his civil service job last year."

He scratched his head, glanced cautiously at Zhuge Qing, and then continued, "Second Brother, don't you know? If you resign, can you go back to work?"

"It's possible, but you definitely can't get back to your original job. My suggestion is to retake the exam—register again, take the exam again, go through the interview again, and re-enter the system with a completely new score."

Zhuge Ming turned his gaze to Zhuge Qing, his tone now more serious, "If you and your elder brother want to become officials, then apply for this year's exam. You can apply to Zhejiang Province or Jiangxi Province, and I can help you with the selection process. But the prerequisite is—you must pass all the requirements, both the written and oral exams, on your own. I won't help you with that, nor can I help you with that."