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

Just then, the communication device on the wall rang.

The gray walkie-talkie hanging on the wall emitted a sharp static noise, followed by a standard, mechanical male voice. The tone was businesslike and devoid of any emotion, but every word made Xu Si's blood pressure rise: "Notification as follows—Attention all relevant personnel, a leader is about to arrive for an inspection. Those in charge of your respective areas, please be prepared, maintain order, and keep passageways clear. The leader is expected to arrive at the designated location in two minutes. I repeat—"

Xu Si strode to the wall, pressed the talk button on the walkie-talkie, and spoke slowly and deliberately into the receiver, each word carrying the force and authority of "this is my territory, I'm in charge": "I am Xu Si! Head of the North China region! I am currently conducting a private interrogation in this interrogation room! My order—no one is allowed to enter! Do you understand?"

There was a moment of silence on the walkie-talkie, then the mechanical male voice spoke again, its tone still polite but mechanical, yet every word conveying a sense of helplessness and innocence: "I'm sorry, I have no authority to answer your orders. I'm only responsible for relaying notifications. Please note, please note—"

Xu Si abruptly switched off the call button, and the walkie-talkie made a cracking sound as it was weighed down by the plastic in his palm.

He glared at the gray plastic box, his face ashen, and said through gritted teeth in a low voice, "What do you mean I have no command authority in my territory? I told you, I'm Xu Si, the head of the North China region! Can I give orders? What's your name?!"

The walkie-talkie went silent.

No one answered him.

Then his phone lit up, and a new message popped up on the screen—it was from the unnamed staff member on duty who had just been on the walkie-talkie.

He glanced down at the screen, and his pupils suddenly contracted.

"Manager Xu, some leaders have arrived. Chairman Zhao and Director Zhuge. Attention."

Xu Si shoved his phone screen into his pocket, stood up straight, and his expression shifted from anger to high alert in a fraction of a second.

A lightning bolt struck his mind, splitting the words "That's right" into four pieces—that's not surprising, that's not surprising at all.

He turned sharply to look at the doorway, and then he saw it.

They're so familiar; these two people—or rather, four people.

Leading the way was Chairman Zhao, followed slightly behind by Director Zhuge. Behind them were two soldiers in civilian clothes, with slightly bulging waists and expressionless faces.

It was none other than Director Zhuge's two inseparable armed guards.

Zhang Chulan was still deeply immersed in the enlightening words "Choose love" he had just heard.

He stood there, as if he'd been force-fed a whole bottle of Tiger Balm and then doused with a bucket of ice water. Suddenly, he abruptly raised his head, a clear and resolute light shining in his eyes. His voice boomed and excitedly, "Fourth Brother! I've figured it out! I've completely figured it out! I think I'll never touch love again in my life! It's all bullshit! I want to pursue progress! I want to strive for excellence! I want—and you, Fourth Brother? What will you never touch again in your life?"

He spoke so loudly that his voice echoed throughout the concrete cell and could be clearly heard in the corridor outside.

Xu Si was too lazy to pay him any attention.

As he strode towards the door, he turned and whispered a rebuke to Zhang Chulan, his voice low but each word carrying undeniable authority: "What are you yelling about? Don't you have any sense? You stay put—the boss is here!"

Zhang Chulan followed Xu Si's gaze toward the door, and then he saw it.

The corridor lights were brighter than those in the cell, outlining the silhouettes of four people at the doorway—the first person he saw was Zhao Fangxu, the chubby company chairman, who was leading the way; then there was Zhuge Ming, walking beside Zhao Fangxu with a calm and composed demeanor.

Then his gaze slid to behind Zhuge Ming, landing on the soldier who had pointed a dark gun barrel at his brow in the top-floor office of the World Society earlier that day.

The soldier was also looking at him, a faint, professional smile playing on his lips. But Zhang Chulan felt that there was an unspoken message hidden in that smile: "We meet again, Comrade Fake Gun."

Zhang Chulan swallowed hard, making an extremely loud swallowing sound.

He felt a cold sweat break out on his back in an instant, and his knees involuntarily buckled, almost causing him to kneel back down.

Xu Si rushed to the door, his white shirt sleeves still rolled up to his elbows, and two buttons on his collar undone crookedly. But the expression on his face had changed from the gloomy look just now to the standard smile reserved for greeting leaders—the corners of his mouth turned up just right, and the fine lines at the corners of his eyes conveyed sincerity and enthusiasm.

He stopped two steps away from Zhuge Ming, rubbed his hands discreetly along the seams of his trousers, and then extended his right hand.

Zhuge Ming smiled slightly and extended his hand.

Xu Si grasped it with both hands at the same time, the degree of bending over, the strength of his hands, and the frequency of shaking it up and down after grasping it were all meticulously controlled—neither so obsequious as to give one goosebumps, nor so respectful as to make the leader feel his sincerity.

When he spoke, his voice was loud but not exaggerated, and his words were proper and natural: "Leaders, what brings you to the front lines? You've worked so hard! You two are so busy, yet you still personally come to the grassroots level to inspect and guide us. This kind of hard-working, simple, and down-to-earth work style is something every one of us should learn from. I, Xu Si, must follow your example and put this spirit into practice in my daily work!"

Zhuge Ming let him hold his hand and shake it a few times, his smile gentle and steady. When he spoke, his voice was soft, but every word carried a reassuring weight: "Comrade Xu Si, you've worked hard."

Just these six words, neither long nor short, neither fast nor slow.

When Xu Si heard these words, the huge rock that had been pressing on his chest for two whole days finally fell to the ground, rolled to the side, and brought a sense of relief as it settled down.

He silently ticked a box in his mind—okay, he probably won't pack his things and leave.

When he released his grip, his voice was louder than before, and his posture straightened slightly: "Director Zhuge, it's my duty!"

Then he turned to Zhao Fangxu, shaking hands with both hands in the same standard angle and pressure, and speaking in the same warm and proper tone: "Chairman Zhao!"

Zhao Fangxu smiled and extended his hand for Xu Si to hold, while gently patting Xu Si's shoulder with his other hand, the pressure neither too light nor too heavy.

When he spoke, his tone carried a hint of the warmth and admonition that an old leader might have for a former subordinate. His words were precise yet warm: "Xu Si, you've gotten away with this by accident, and you've handled things quite well."

However, considering the negligence and inadequate management by your staff in the North China region in this incident, in accordance with company regulations, you will not be commended. But you have still worked very hard, and the organization recognizes that.

Upon hearing Zhao Fangxu's words, Xu Si paused for a moment, then gripped his hand even tighter.