Under One Person: The End of Technique, Company Building

The old master spoke in a very calm tone, as if he were talking about something that had nothing to do with him.

"If we take a step back today and two steps back tomorrow, in the end the Celestial Master's Mansion will still be the Celestial Master's Mansion, but the person sitting on Longhu Mountain will have become a puppet of a bunch of forces. I don't want to see that."

Zhuge Qi picked up his teacup and took a sip. The tea had gone cold, the bitterness was stronger, and the aftertaste was much weaker.

The old celestial master's gaze fell on a spot outside the window, where an old locust tree stood, its branches and leaves lush and its canopy swaying gently in the breeze. "That kid has been holding back for ten years, not revealing a single skill. How many people in the world of supernatural beings can match that kind of composure?"

"If he really takes over as the Celestial Master, won't your company be in trouble?"

"It's not that bad." Zhuge Qi's brow twitched slightly when he heard the last sentence. "Master, don't think too badly of the company."

The sunlight in the side hall was deflected at an angle, shining obliquely through the window and casting a longer patch of light on the floor.

The incense in the burner had burned to its last bit, the last wisp of smoke drifting in the air, and the ash falling to the bottom of the burner with a barely audible sound.

Zhuge Qi leaned back in his chair, his hands clasped over his abdomen, his posture more relaxed than when he had just entered.

He knew he had grasped the edge of the old master's true attitude. Although he was still some distance from the core, at least he was on the right track.

"What if Zhang Chulan doesn't want this position after he gets that knife?"

The old master chuckled, a faint sense of relief in his voice: "Then I'll just keep going for a few more years, until he changes his mind. Anyway—"

He raised an eyebrow at Zhuge Qi, his wrinkles smoothing out, revealing an expression like that of a mischievous old man.

"I may not have many other skills, but I do have some experience in living a long life."

Zhuge Qi couldn't help but laugh.

This was the first time he had shown a truly relaxed smile in front of the old master since he entered the sect.

"Master," Zhuge Qi stood up, clasped his hands in a fist salute, and bowed slightly, "I apologize for disturbing you today."

The old master waved his hand, showing no intention of getting up to see the guest out. He simply leaned back in his chair and looked at him with a complex expression—the kind of expression an elder gives to a younger person, a mixture of criticism and appreciation: "Kid, go back and tell Zhao Fangxu to rest assured, I won't die anytime soon. As for the rest—"

His gaze lingered on Zhuge Qi for a moment.

"The road ahead is long, let's take it one step at a time."

Zhuge Qi bowed slightly again, then turned and walked towards the door.

He walked at a moderate pace, his back ramrod straight. When he reached the threshold, he paused, turned his head, and said, "Master, there's something I'd like to say."

"you say."

Do you think you've misjudged the situation?

"Of course." The old master waved his hand toward the door, as if shooing away an old cat that wouldn't leave.

His expression remained unchanged, but he suddenly fell into some memories, and his eyes dimmed considerably.

"..." Zhuge Qi ultimately remained silent, but stepped across the threshold and entered the square outside the side hall in the afternoon.

A boy with freckles on his face came towards them and escorted them out.

Zhuge Qi did not even glance at him.

The sunlight hit me so brightly that I had to squint.

There were fewer tourists in the square than before, but there were still a few people taking pictures, playing with cats, and buying popsicles.

Ma Hong was still squatting on the steps smoking, the ash already piled up quite a bit, clearly lost in thought.

Liu Yanyan stood under the osmanthus tree next to her, holding a notebook in her hand, looking at something intently.

Feng Baobao leaned against a pillar, her hands in her sweatshirt pockets, her gaze fixed on the tabby cat in the center of the square.

The tabby cat had changed its position, lying sprawled out on the stone slab sunbathing, its belly up, its pink paw pads fully exposed to the sunlight. Occasionally, it would roll over to find another side to continue sunbathing.

Zhuge Qi walked down the steps. Ma Hong heard the footsteps and immediately stood up, stubbing out his cigarette on the sole of his shoe: "Section Chief, are you done talking?"

"Okay, we're done talking." Zhuge Qi patted Ma Hong on the shoulder. "Let's go, we'll talk more when we get back."

Liu Yanyan closed her notebook and followed, and Feng Baobao also moved off the pillar. The three of them followed behind Zhuge Qi, walking along the stone steps back towards the inn.

The afternoon sun shone through the gaps in the leaves, casting dappled light on the bluestone slabs. A breeze blew from the bamboo grove, carrying the sweet scent of grass and trees.

The Celestial Master's only bargaining chip is to protect Zhang Chulan, while the company's only bargaining chip is to maintain stability.

When these two things collide, it's crucial to determine who should walk the balance beam in the middle, to what extent, when to advance and when to retreat—every single inch must be carefully calculated.

Mr. Zhao's attitude towards the old master has always been one of respecting him from a distance, neither provoking him nor backing down.

But now he's a little hesitant.

Should we give up on Zhang Zhiwei?

Zhuge Qi knew that he was now in a position that could influence the overall situation.

The choice of which path to take is in your own hands.

If we continue to follow the original trajectory without making any progress, we might only be able to achieve mediocrity, but that would be a huge waste of the opportunity, because once this opportunity is missed, it will truly be gone forever.

Success is the company's achievement, while failure is Zhuge Qi's fault. He was aware of this from the very beginning.

But it's okay.

He is never afraid to take the blame.

Let me think about it again. Let me think about it again.

Don't rush.

Zhuge Qi said this to himself, trying to calm his mind and return to normalcy.

At 6:30 p.m., dusk slowly rose from the foot of Longhu Mountain, dyeing the rolling hills in varying shades of blue-gray.

The shadows of the bamboo grove swayed and rustled in the evening breeze, like hundreds of thousands of tiny leaves whispering secrets at the same time.

The clouds on the horizon were scorched with a dark red edge by the setting sun, like the last embers in a furnace.

Zhuge Qi sat at the desk in the guest room, with a notebook open in front of him and a pen resting on the middle of the notebook.

He closed his notebook, stood up, and stretched his neck, making a series of soft clicking sounds.

Outside the window, dusk had completely fallen. The night in the mountains was much thicker than in the city, a deep, rich, and soft black, like a piece of ink that had been kneaded.

A lamp hangs from the eaves of a Taoist temple in the distance, its halo spreading out in the night like a warm yellow ball of fluff, quietly suspended on the mountainside.

Zhuge Qi was staring intently at the lamp when there was a knock on the door.

dong dong dong-

Three tones, very fast rhythm.

"Come in."

The one who came in was Liu Yanyan. Her expression was somewhat serious, and she looked at Zhuge Qi with great vigilance. She said cautiously, "Section Chief, we've found a clue. Someone has already gone up the mountain."