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

He didn't finish his sentence, but everyone understood.

To put it simply, Bi Youlong meant: How could Director Zhuge not follow the principles of the Party organization? How could a department-level official like him make decisions directly in front of a vice-ministerial level chairman? What about procedures? What about rules? What about the authority of the top leader?

Bi Youlong's words contained a deeper meaning—he was speaking out for Zhao Fangxu.

Although he wasn't one of Zhao Fangxu's protégés, Zhao Fangxu was, after all, a veteran of the company who had worked there for many years and deserved recognition for his hard work, even if he hadn't achieved great things.

Now that a young man has been parachuted in and is sitting in the main seat giving orders, Bi Youlong can't swallow this insult.

Zhao Fangxu smiled slightly after hearing this.

The smile was faint, just enough to be called a "smile," but the expression in his eyes was unusually complex—there was helplessness, composure, and something that Bi Youlong couldn't quite understand.

He leaned back in his chair and said in a gentle tone that Bi Youlong had never heard before, "Director Bi, I never expected that someone as consistently tough as you would speak so tactfully. It's quite rare."

Bi Youlong's face flushed slightly, but he didn't stubbornly argue as usual.

He kept his head down, his fingers unconsciously tracing circles on the table, his lips moved, but he ultimately said nothing.

Zhao Fangxu glanced at him, his tone now carrying a hint of earnestness: "But it's for the best. From now on, you need to control your temper. Times have changed."

When Bi Youlong heard this, he didn't refute it.

He nodded slowly, the gesture small, but very seriously.

He was genuinely frightened—not by Zhuge Ming's aura, but by Zhuge Ming's words, "Never tolerate such behavior."

Bi Youlong had worked at the company for so many years, he had seen all sorts of tough guys and heard all sorts of harsh words, but when Zhuge Ming said those words, his tone was as calm as if he were stating a physical law.

That calm was more terrifying than any roar.

What frightened him even more was that every word Zhuge Ming spoke revolved around "the Party and the State"—meaning that he was not backed by a particular leader or faction, but by the will of the entire state apparatus.

No matter how arrogant Bi Youlong is, he wouldn't dare to defy the state apparatus.

He listened to what was said.

Zhao Fangxu nodded slightly upon seeing Bi Youlong's reaction.

Then he shifted his gaze from Bi Youlong, scanning everyone present. When he spoke, his voice was not loud, but each word seemed to be weighed down by a weight, carrying weight but not requiring much effort to express.

"Gentlemen," he said in a calm tone, as if he were chatting with a group of old friends over tea, but the content of his words was anything but calm, "The Party and the people have entrusted us with power, and we cannot betray that trust. This is a cliché, but clichés are often the truth."

Times have changed. Before the reform and opening up, the country sought stability and society could not be turbulent. Therefore, our company was responsible for maintaining the balance in the world of supernatural beings, turning big problems into small ones and small problems into nothing. As long as no trouble was caused, it was considered a success.

And now? Times have changed. The country has become stronger, society has become more stable, people's lives have improved, the rule of law has been established, technology has advanced, and civilization has progressed—but the world of supernatural beings is still standing still.

Old ideas, old rules, and old ways of doing things are no longer suitable. What happens when they're no longer suitable? They're eliminated. Elimination isn't a bad thing; it's for better renewal. But if you can't keep up, if you fall behind even a little, you'll fall behind at every step, and eventually be crushed by the wheels of time, and no one can save you.

He paused, picked up the teacup on the table, and took a sip.

The tea was no longer hot, but he didn't ask the logistics department to change it. He simply swallowed it slowly and continued, his tone warmer than before: "Those traditional organizations, sects, cliques, and groups in the world of supernatural beings will be eliminated by the times if they don't change. This is an objective law, independent of anyone's will. And all of you here are Party members, so we must understand this even more—our awareness and ideology must be high. If they aren't, it's the beginning of falling behind. Once you fall behind, you'll never catch up again."

He placed the teacup back on the table with a soft sound.

Then he abruptly changed his tone, shifting from a macro-level discussion to a candid conversation from someone with experience: "It's precisely because of Director Zhuge's saying—'The government office remains, but the officials come and go.' A pillar of the nation as outstanding as Director Zhuge is a once-in-a-century talent, and the organization won't let him stay in our company for long. That would be a waste of national resources, and the organization won't make that mistake. So Director Zhuge's time here is limited. In that limited time, what can we do? Not try to outsmart him, not try to play a game of balancing him—who among you thinks you can outmaneuver him? Huh?"

No one answered.

Bi Youlong lowered his head even further.

Zhao Fangxu continued, his tone becoming more serious: "What we need to do is learn from Director Zhuge's spirit and enhance our own value. We must correct our bad habits, maintain a good work attitude, and adhere to the principles of the Party organization. Only in this way can we better serve the people. After Director Zhuge is transferred, we must continue to work and continue to guard this position. At that time, it will be clear who has fallen behind and who has been eliminated. I'm putting my words here—keep them in mind."

He slowly stood up, placed his hands on the table, and his gaze slowly swept across everyone's faces before finally settling on the document in front of him.

"As the chairman of the company, I, Zhao Fangxu, must set an example. From today onwards, I will strive to emulate Director Zhuge. That's all for now."

……

The meeting ended at the company's main entrance.

Xu Si and Dou Le walked out of the company gate almost one after the other.

Neither of them had made an appointment with the other, but their steps led them to the same spot without prior notice—this tacit understanding didn't require any prior discussion. The two unfortunate souls, both terrified by the same meeting, were drawn together as if by the same rope as soon as they stepped out the door.

Xu Si stood on the steps at the entrance and took a deep breath of the Beijing evening air—an air mixed with car exhaust, the sweet aroma of roadside roasted sweet potato stalls, and the earthy smell of the green belt. It wasn't exactly pleasant, but he took a deep breath, as if savoring some kind of freedom that had been lost and regained.

Then he took out a cigarette case from his pocket, pulled one out and put it in his mouth. With a click, the lighter brought the flame close to the cigarette butt and lit it.

He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and the smoke rolled from his throat into his lungs and slowly exhaled from his nostrils, drawing two long arcs of white smoke in the sunset.

His entire face relaxed at that moment—his brows unfurrowed, the corners of his mouth turned up, and even his ears seemed to droop slightly.

That expression... it's less about him enjoying a cigarette and more about him using it to reaffirm that he's still alive.