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

His tone was calm, as if he were discussing a minor work assignment, but every word was precisely measured: "Don't report this to the military. Otherwise, the 'old men' will cause trouble for the 'leader' again, and then they'll transfer me back, making me drink tea and play chess all day without letting me work. I'm young, this is the time to strive. Since I've accepted this task from the leader, I must complete it. Do you two understand?"

The soldier in the co-pilot's seat opened his mouth, his expression struggling for several seconds between "resolutely obeying orders" and "duty dictates no compromise."

His fingers unconsciously tightened and loosened on the edge of the tablet. When he spoke, his voice clearly carried a hint of difficulty and hesitation, but he still maintained the standards and bottom line expected of a soldier: "Sir, this... our orders are that your personal safety is paramount. Any incident that threatens your safety, no matter how minor, must be reported truthfully. This is our duty. What you're doing puts us in a difficult position."

Zhuge Ming turned his head and looked at the face in the passenger seat, which was filled with difficulty and perseverance. He remained silent for two seconds, then sighed softly.

There was no blame in that sigh; instead, it carried a hint of understanding and helplessness towards the two people who had followed him for many years.

He leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temples with his long, slender fingers. His tone shifted from its previous indifference to a more conciliatory one, as if he were trying to find a compromise that both sides could accept with two old friends: "You have your jobs, I support that, okay? Let's each take a step back—report the truth. But, this isn't a big deal, it's just a small matter."

Just report it like this: "During work, we encountered two groups of people causing trouble. We unfortunately entered their area, which may have caused some friction between third parties. It's nothing serious, just a minor squabble. Most importantly—and I want to emphasize—my life was not harmed in the slightest. Is that report it?"

The soldier was silent for a moment, then closed the tablet and nodded.

When he spoke, his voice still carried that standard military tone, but there was a hint of reluctance and compromise in his tone after being persuaded: "Alright, sir. I obey orders and will report the truth."

Sitting next to Zhuge Ming, Zhao Fangxu listened intently to the conversation, not missing a single word.

He sat there without changing his expression, his hands neatly placed on his knees, his face calm and composed, as if he hadn't heard anything.

But his heart was already in turmoil—the old men.

lead.

They were transferred back to drink tea and play chess.

These three keywords kept combining and rearranging in his mind, and each combination made his back tense up even more.

There wasn't a single person he knew who was worthy of being called "Old Master" by Zhuge Ming.

He didn't know a single leader who qualified Zhuge Ming to say "I'm having a lot of trouble with my boss."

In his mind, he silently raised Zhuge Ming's status several levels higher, to a level that transcended administrative ranks and was more subtle and real.

Zhuge Ming turned to look at Zhao Fangxu, his tone of consultation with military personnel replaced by a gentle and stable leader's smile.

When he spoke, his tone remained as nonchalant as ever, as if he were chatting casually with a long-time colleague: "Chairman Zhao, please don't be so formal. We're all comrades; feel free to speak your mind. What are your thoughts on the work ahead?"

Upon hearing Zhuge Ming call his name, Zhao Fangxu immediately turned slightly to face Zhuge Ming, a respectful and sincere smile appearing on his face.

He spoke at a measured pace, each word like a carefully polished piece of jade, smooth and textured: "Director Zhuge, today's incident has broadened my horizons, Zhao Fangxu. To be frank—starting with a cup of tea, approaching it from a cultural perspective, is enough to make Feng Zhenghao, one of the newly appointed Ten Elders, obediently comply, and even do so with gratitude, voluntarily cooperating in the name of national righteousness."

This would have been an impossible task in any previous or any other period. I have the utmost respect for it. I believe that under Director Zhuge's leadership, our company will achieve significant breakthroughs, and the integration of the entire supernatural community will reach a whole new level.

Upon hearing this, Zhuge Ming's lips curved slightly into a small smile.

He turned his head to look at Zhao Fangxu, his tone carrying a hint of relaxation and teasing, but behind the teasing was still that calm and accurate insight: "Chairman Zhao, you really know how to speak. We are all comrades, all working together. People like Feng Zhenghao are smart and have good ideological awareness, which will be beneficial to our work going forward."

Especially for someone as wealthy as him—if he didn't understand, pay attention to, or respond to national policies, he couldn't have gotten to where he is today, developing a conglomerate with a market value of 300 billion. His position isn't solely due to his business acumen.

"Director Zhuge is absolutely right!"

Zhao Fangxu immediately agreed, then changed the subject, switching from affirmation to reporting. His wording remained impeccably steady, but the question itself pointed to a detail he had been observing: "However, there's one thing—Comrade Xu Si actually brought Feng Zhenghao's daughter, Feng Shayan, back to the company as a suspect. And what I'm curious about is that Feng Zhenghao hasn't asked us for help, hasn't made any calls, hasn't offered any explanation. Isn't he worried about his daughter's situation?"

Zhuge Ming leaned back in his leather seat, watching the highway guardrail rushing past the window, a faint smile playing on his lips.

When he spoke, his tone was as calm as if he were analyzing the psychological activities of a perfectly normal business opponent, every word revealing a precise grasp of the most sensitive nerves deep within human nature: "This Chairman Feng, as expected of a ruthless leader, is a man of great things. He's using stillness to control movement. After all, we've just convinced him, and we need time for him to process and adapt. It's unrealistic to expect him to be emotionless—his daughter was taken away, so of course a father would have feelings, that's normal. It's human nature."

He withdrew his gaze and turned to Zhao Fangxu, his tone shifting from analysis to a work-oriented explanation. He maintained his gentle demeanor, but the content of his words pointed to the next specific action: "Since Comrade Xu Si has taken the person back for interrogation, let's go through the work process, take a statement, and see if there are any new findings."

After all, Comrade Zhang Chulan, an employee in North China, should know the detailed process, from the moment he was taken away by the sand swan to the moment he fell from the ceiling, what specific things happened in between, and what evidence could be used to determine the nature of the incident—all of these need to be clarified.