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

Provincial Department of Culture and Tourism.

Zhuge Ming.

He mentally went over these two keywords several times.

This isn't right—didn't Lao Lu say on the phone that Zhuge Ming supported the Luo Tian Grand Ceremony? The image of him shaking hands with Feng Zhenghao on the news broadcast half a month ago was still lingering in his mind, and now this Secretary Zhuge was already at the gates.

Passing through Tianjin, I conveniently "supported" Feng Zhenghao with 5 billion yuan. Now that I'm passing through Longhushan, should I also "support" him?

Despite having so much on his mind, he remained composed and replied with a smile, "Director Wang, rest assured, the Longhu Mountain Celestial Master's Mansion will fully cooperate with the provincial department's work and actively respond to the nation's call."

Over the years, leaders at all levels have come to inspect the area more than once or twice, and we've gotten used to it—but to be honest, I didn't expect to be alarmed by such a high-ranking leader today. It's the first time a leader from the provincial department has come down in person.

However, please rest assured, Director Wang, our Tianshi Mansion at Longhu Mountain will absolutely not hinder the work of our Tourism Bureau. We will prepare what needs to be prepared and tidy up what needs to be tidied up, ensuring that the leaders see a clean and orderly Tianshi Mansion.

Director Wang responded with a laugh on the other end of the phone, his tone reflecting his consistent trust and confidence in the old master: "Old master, you're too kind. I've always trusted you completely."

This is also a good thing about reform and opening up; the national policy is to build a culturally strong nation.

The provincial department's emphasis on the development of Taoist culture in our city indicates that the value of Taoist culture at the Tianshi Mansion in Longhu Mountain has gained higher-level recognition, which is a good thing and an opportunity.

"Old Celestial Master, our Celestial Master's Mansion on Longhu Mountain has also benefited from favorable policies."

……

Zhang Zhiwei hung up the phone with a smile.

He sat on the bamboo couch, the smile he maintained while answering the phone on his face like a layer of lake water ruffled by the wind, slowly dissipating layer by layer, until only a deep, lake-bottom-deep contemplation remained.

He placed his phone on his lap, looked down at the now-blacked-out screen, and remained silent for a long time.

The birds outside the window chirped twice more, but he didn't listen.

After a long while, he let out a long sigh.

The sigh was slowly squeezed out from the deepest part of his chest, echoing softly for a moment in the quiet room where he was all alone, before being dispersed by the mountain breeze that seeped in through the cracks in the window.

He stared at the handwritten copy of the *Tao Te Ching* on the wall, as if questioning the writer himself, or perhaps Lao Tzu, who had been dead for nearly two thousand years: "Zhuge Ming, Director of the Culture and Tourism Department of Jiangxi Province. This doesn't make sense. How could such a big shot like him hold a grudge against an old man like me? Didn't Lao Lu say he supported me? Is this what support looks like?"

He paused for a moment, as if waiting for the calligraphy to give him an answer.

Of course, there will be no answer.

He shook his head and sighed again, but this time a bitter smile appeared on his lips, a smile mixed with a complex feeling that was hard to describe as either self-mockery or lament.

He spoke to himself in a very low voice, so low that only he could hear it, but in the quiet room every word was exceptionally clear.

"Zhuge Ming—he's amazing."

I was passing through Tianjin, so I took the opportunity to deal with Feng Zhenghao.

I've read that news about the 5 billion yuan figure at least ten times, and every time I read it, I feel a chill down my spine.

Who is Feng Zhenghao? A descendant of the Liangshan Great Shaman, the holder of the Eight Extraordinary Skills of Spirit Binding and Commanding Generals, the head of the Tianxiahui Group with a market value of 300 billion, a newly promoted Ten Elders, and a powerful figure who excels in both the business and supernatural worlds—and that's how he started by talking about a cup of jasmine tea, then about intangible cultural heritage protection, then about voluntary donations, and then about becoming a cultural ambassador.

Amazing. Absolutely amazing.

He turned his gaze from the calligraphy and painting, looked down at his hands covered in age spots, paused for a moment, and then continued, "Is this a reminder for this old man? Fine—I, Zhang Zhiwei, will certainly cooperate. These are turbulent times."

They say one thing but do another.

He put his phone into the inner pocket of his Taoist robe, stood up from the bamboo couch, bent down to straighten the wrinkled hem of his robe, and then walked to the old wooden cabinet in the corner. He opened the cabinet door and began to search for the Taoist robe that he only wore on important occasions.

……

The front gate of the Celestial Master's Mansion on Longhu Mountain.

The daylight was perfect; the clouds and mist in the mountains had dissipated, revealing lush, verdant bamboo forests covering the hillsides and the dark, layered mountain ridges in the distance.

Sunlight streamed through the gaps in the clouds, illuminating the bluestone slabs of the square in front of the Celestial Master's Mansion, reflecting a warm, lustrous sheen.

The parking lot in front of the mountain gate was filled with tour buses and private cars from all over the country. Tourists, holding small flags, wearing sun hats and carrying backpacks, filed in one after another under the guidance of tour guides.

The sounds of loudspeakers, tourists' conversations, and vendors' cries blended together in the square in front of the mountain gate, creating a lively and bustling scene of everyday life.

An ordinary bus quietly drove into the parking lot. There were no police cars leading the way, no banners, no crowds lining up to welcome it, and not even a single extra parking sign.

This bus looked no different from the other tour buses in the parking lot—it had a plain white paint job, sun-protective film on the windows, and even some mud splattered on the wheels.

It stopped silently in a parking space at the very edge of the parking lot, just like any ordinary tour bus.

This is the inspection team from the Jiangxi Provincial Department of Culture and Tourism.

Before setting off, Zhuge Ming gave only one instruction: "Study the spirit of the Party Central Committee, avoid formalism, and be pragmatic."

Therefore, we traveled light.

Without prior notice to Guixi City or alerting Shangqing Town, a bus carrying relevant department heads from the Provincial Department of Culture and Tourism, several accompanying personnel from the Yingtan Municipal Bureau of Culture and Tourism, and a recorder carrying a camera, wearing an outdoor vest, and looking no different from an ordinary tourist photographer, quietly drove into the Longhushan National Tourist and Cultural Scenic Area.

The car door opened.

Zhuge Ming was the first to come down.

He was dressed extremely casually today—the cuffs of his white shirt were rolled up twice, one button was undone at the collar, he wasn't wearing a tie, he wore dark casual trousers, and brown casual leather shoes of an unidentifiable brand.

He looked like an ordinary office worker who went hiking on the weekend—young, energetic, and clean, but not ostentatious at all.

The only thing that could catch someone's eye was the small Party emblem pinned to his chest.

The red flag and the golden Party emblem stand out against the white shirt, reflecting a subtle and calm luster in the sunlight, like a self-introduction that needs no words.

The entourage that followed him were all dressed casually in T-shirts, polo shirts, casual pants, and sneakers. Not one of them was dressed in a suit or tie, nor was anyone wearing an executive jacket. Even several officials from the Yingtan Municipal Bureau of Culture and Tourism had been notified in advance to change out of their usual work shirts and trousers and into the most ordinary casual clothes.

The entire group stood in the parking lot, blending seamlessly into the tourist groups that had just disembarked from their tour buses, completely inconspicuous.

Only the photographer wearing an outdoor vest took a few work photos of the group with his camera—but his shooting style was also very low-key, with no flash and no posed shots, just like an ordinary tourist casually recording a moment of travel.