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

Zhang Chulan stood on the cement ground, tears welling up in his eyes before finally streaming down his face.

This time, the tears weren't the kind that were perfectly timed to fit the plot, but rather tears that I couldn't hold back after being truly touched in a soft spot in my heart.

He sniffed hard, his voice trembling: "Leader, what you said really resonates with the students."

Students have faith in their country, and they have unconditional faith in it.

I truly regret choosing civil engineering as my major—I should have chosen law and political science, and studied the spirit of the Party and the country diligently, serving the nation and society, and fulfilling my responsibilities as a Chinese citizen!

Zhuge Ming smiled and retorted, his tone gentle yet firm, as if correcting a young man's immature ideas, but every word carried sincere encouragement: "Zhang Chulan, this understanding is not comprehensive enough."

We are all working people. No matter what job we do or what position we hold, we are all cogs in the machine of the socialist cause.

Whether you're in civil engineering or law, as long as you shine in your own position and do your job well, you're contributing to the country.

The person who builds the houses and the person who sets the rules—neither one can be missing.

You'll understand this principle as you go along.

Zhang Chulan wiped away his tears with the back of his hand, sniffed, and nodded earnestly, his voice filled with the solemnity and gratitude one would only feel after receiving a profound enlightenment: "I will remember your teachings, leader. I will keep them in mind."

Zhuge Ming nodded, his smile remaining gentle and composed.

He leaned forward slightly and spoke his last words to Zhang Chulan in a tone that was admonishing but not overly heavy: "Zhang Chulan, you are now an adult. In the future, don't act impulsively and consider the consequences. Students are no exception."

A strong youth makes a strong nation; we must learn to train ourselves and temper our character.

Okay, hurry up and get treatment; don't delay and worsen your injury.

Upon hearing this, Zhang Chulan subconsciously glanced at Xu Si.

That look was quick, as if asking, "Fourth Brother, can I leave now?"

Xu Si quickly chimed in, his tone laced with a hint of urging and disdain, but beneath it lay a barely perceptible concern. He pointed outside and said, "Why are you looking at me? Listen to your superiors! Go on, go back the way you came, find the staff upstairs, they know where to take you."

Zhang Chulan ran excitedly towards the door.

As soon as he reached the door, he looked up and saw the two soldiers standing on either side of the door frame.

One of them happened to tilt his head slightly, his gaze calmly falling on his face.

Zhang Chulan's heart skipped a beat—this was the same person who had pointed a gun at him on the top floor of the World Society earlier that day.

Their eyes met briefly in mid-air, and Zhang Chulan immediately broke into a bright and sincere smile.

He raised his right hand, waved to the two soldiers, and greeted them in a friendly and warm tone: "Greetings, sirs!"

The words had barely left his mouth when his expression changed drastically. He abruptly covered his mouth with one hand, his head, still bearing the swollen bump the size of a pigeon egg, shook violently from side to side. He quickly changed his tune, his voice rising half an octave with a hint of panic and a strong will to survive: "Ah, no, no, no—comrades! Thank you for your hard work! Thank you for your hard work, comrades!"

The two soldiers did not speak, but simply nodded slightly.

The gesture was small, but the message was clear—I've received it, you can go now.

When Zhang Chulan passed between the two soldiers, he pressed his back against the door frame, afraid that if he took up even an inch more space, he would touch the holsters on their waists.

The moment his feet finally left the interrogation room and touched the concrete floor of the corridor, he felt as if he had been freed from his restraints.

His pace quickened from a slow walk to a brisk walk, then to a jog, then to a jog, and finally disappeared like a gust of wind at the end of the corridor.

He didn't want to stay in this place for even a second longer.

Watching Zhang Chulan flee at a speed that resembled being chased by a dog, Zhao Fangxu couldn't help but chuckle and remarked, "Young people are so energetic. They even seem to be running with the wind in their veins."

Xu Si quickly took action.

He jogged over and carried an iron chair from a corner of the room to Zhuge Ming, then quickly wiped the chair surface with his sleeve twice—the surface wasn't actually dirty, but he felt this action couldn't be skipped.

He bent down to stabilize the chair, pressed his palm on the seat to make sure it wouldn't wobble, then turned around and ran to the corner to flip over and straighten the iron chair that he had kicked and slammed against the wall.

The white stain on the chair back was still there. He tried to wipe it off several times with his sleeve but couldn't. He glanced back at Zhao Fangxu somewhat awkwardly, then quickly placed the chair in front of Zhao Fangxu: "Chairman Zhao, please sit down. This chair accidentally bumped into the wall earlier, and the back is a little scratched, but it's still fine to sit on."

Zhuge Ming and Zhao Fangxu sat down.

There were only these two chairs in the room.

As Xu Si stood before the two leaders, he suddenly realized a serious problem—it would be extremely inappropriate for him to stand and look down at the two seated leaders.

He had a sudden inspiration and immediately squatted down on the ground.

It's not an ordinary squatting posture, but a standard military squatting posture—the back is straight as a line, the knees are bent at an angle of exactly ninety degrees, and the hands are neatly placed on the knees. The person squatting there is neither taller than the leader nor too casual.

He tilted his head back, trying to keep his gaze level with that of the two leaders, and spoke in his standard reporting tone: "Leaders, how should we proceed with the work? Please provide further instructions and guidance."

After watching Xu Si's complete sequence of actions, from moving the chair to squatting in a standard military posture, Zhao Fangxu's lips curled up slightly, and he nodded in satisfaction.

The meaning was self-evident—this kid really has a keen eye.

Zhuge Ming sat in a chair with his hands crossed on his knees, his posture relaxed and composed.

When he spoke, his tone was calm and clear, as if he were issuing a well-thought-out work arrangement, and every word was precise and to the point: "Comrade Xu Si, I will talk about two points regarding your work focus for the next few days."

First point – you are responsible for coordinating the relevant work with Jiajia Village in Northwest China.

Jia Zhengyu physically assaulted someone within our company. Although no actual harm was caused, the incident was serious.

Handle it as it should be, following the company's relevant management regulations and procedures.

But there's one thing you need to pay special attention to—offer subtle reminders during the coordination process.

As a village dedicated to cultural heritage, Jiajia Village is filled with inheritors of this heritage. This is an honorable identity and a weighty responsibility.

They must remember their mission, and not let down their ancestors, or even more so, their country. Do you understand?

Xu Si nodded without interrupting.