Me! A high-ranking official!

In the bureau's office, Zhao Jianguo was facing his computer, flipping through pages of compiled materials on the province's cultural and tourism work.

In recent years, the province has been loudly proclaiming, "Enjoy the mountains and rivers, and reap the rewards of Beicang," a slogan that resonates far and wide. Local cities and counties have been scrambling to implement their own initiatives. Linshui County, however, lacks a strong foundation; it has no famous mountains or ancient temples. Developing cultural tourism there is like trying to grow crops in saline-alkali soil—laborious and unrewarding. The previous administration was merely going through the motions. But Zhou Qingyan, who has only been in office for less than half a month, is clearly not one to be trifled with. Having just extricated herself from the vortex of the municipal discipline inspection commission's investigation, her first move is to target cultural tourism. Her intentions are not hard to guess: she wants to create a significant breakthrough in this weak area as quickly as possible, achieving tangible results that will silence any dissent. But cultural tourism, if done well, is truly beneficial—it brings fame, reputation, status, political achievements, and money. However, very few can truly develop it well and make it unique! It remains to be seen which direction Zhou Qingyan will focus her efforts on!

He stared at the screen, calculating his own schemes. His income and his presence in the organization all depended on this opportunity.

Just as I was lost in thought, the phone on the table suddenly jumped up, and the screen displayed "Director Zhang".

"Hello, Director Zhang..."

"Jianguo, you get to Xiaozhai Village right now!" Zhang Baocheng's voice, even through the receiver, conveyed a sense of urgency, as if his pants were on fire.

He was taken aback: "Director Zhang, what happened?"

"Secretary Zhou wants to hear your report on that 'Borderless Experience' thing. Come over here right now, stop dawdling!"

"Beep..." The phone was hung up crisply.

Hearing Zhang Baocheng say this, his heart skipped a beat. Oh no, this was really like being forced into a corner. Those two plans were just something he had hastily put together while scrolling through Douyin last night. He hadn't even had a second chance to think about them in his mind. Now he had to face Zhou Qingyan, the new secretary, directly?

Without thinking twice, he grabbed his notebook, pushed open the door, hopped on the beat-up electric scooter, and sped off towards the outskirts of the city.

The wind whistled past his ears as he traveled seven or eight li. When he arrived at the entrance of Xiaozhai Village, he saw a black Audi parked on the side of the road in the distance.

Zhou Qingyan, dressed in a dark business suit, stood with his arms crossed, frowning as he looked at the row of dilapidated mud houses. Zhang Baocheng stood beside him, hands on his hips, his already sparse hair disheveled by the wind, a layer of cold sweat on his forehead, constantly nodding and bowing as he spoke.

"Director Zhang, Secretary Zhou." He jogged over, still catching his breath, and greeted them politely.

Zhou Qingyan turned her head and saw Zhao Jianguo. A hint of surprise flashed in her eyes, but then her professional coldness returned. Without any pleasantries, her voice was stern: "This boundless ancient-style living experience in Xiaozhai Village, was that your idea?"

He glanced at Zhang Baocheng out of the corner of his eye. Zhang Baocheng, at that moment, was like a drowning man grabbing onto a piece of driftwood, his eyes darting around at Zhao Jianguo.

He understood immediately and lowered his head, saying in a deep voice, "Secretary Zhou, these are the guiding principles that Director Zhang proposed after his inspection, based on the actual situation in our county. I was only responsible for supplementing these scattered ideas with current market trends, and they are still immature."

Upon hearing this, Zhang Baocheng's tense shoulders relaxed slightly.

"Get to the point." Zhou Qingyan, impatient with the evasive talk, gestured with his chin towards the ruins. "How are you going to report this?"

He closed his notebook, quickly going through his thoughts from the previous night, and said, "Secretary Zhou, the core of this project can be summed up in just three words: contrast."

"First, it is the ultimate utilization of waste. Xiaozhai Village was left behind by demolition. Half of the houses were demolished and most of the people left. In other people's eyes, this is a mess, but in tourism development, it is a ready-made wasteland and ancient style background. We do not need to demolish and build on a large scale. This sense of decay is itself a scarce resource."

"Secondly, there is the emotional value. Nowadays, city dwellers are not afraid of spending money, but they are afraid of being mentally exhausted. Martial arts cities are just for acting. What we want is to live life. Even if the yard is drafty, as long as the stove can be lit and vegetables can be picked from the ground, they can find that kind of pleasure of escaping reality here."

"Thirdly, it's a low-cost operating logic. We don't hire professional actors; we use the remaining villagers. They can make shoe soles or feed chickens. This kind of lively, down-to-earth atmosphere is more attractive than any elaborately renovated scenic spot."

At this point, Zhao Jianguo mustered his courage and glanced at Zhou Qingyan's expression. Seeing that she didn't interrupt, he added, "Secretary Zhou, what we're selling isn't tourist attractions, but the nights of our hometown, the warmth of family members sitting together by the lamplight."

Zhou Qingyan didn't say anything and strode into the depths of the village.

The houses on both sides of the road were in terrible condition, some with holes half a meter wide punched in the walls, and some with half of their roofs torn off. This was a measure taken to prevent the relocated residents from returning. Now, it looked desolate and eerie.

Zhou Qingyan walked into a house with a hole punched in it, stepped on the broken bricks to look at the beams, and turned to ask Zhao Jianguo, "Won't this kind of house collapse if we live in it?"

"The skeleton is good, we'll reinforce it a bit, keep the exterior as it is, and then add modern plumbing and heating systems inside. What we want is the skin of the ancients, but the interior of modern people," Zhao Jianguo answered fluently.

Zhou Qingyan wandered around the village for a full twenty minutes, only stopping when she returned to the village entrance.

She looked at Zhang Baocheng, her tone cold: "Your Culture and Tourism Bureau has one day to come up with a concrete and feasible plan, down to the details of how to modify each courtyard and how to manage the NPCs. Report it directly to my office before you leave work tomorrow afternoon."

After saying that, she opened the car door, kicking up a cloud of dust, and drove away without looking back.

Zhang Baocheng stood there until the car disappeared from sight, then he let out a long, cold breath as if his bones had been removed.

"Oh dear... this Secretary Zhou is really leaving no way out for us." He wiped his sweat, turned to look at Zhao Jianguo, and his eyes instantly became complicated, showing both respect and a kind of relief after getting rid of a burden: "Jianguo, you heard it too. Since this idea came from you and Secretary Zhou has given his approval, then this plan is entirely in your hands."

"Director Zhang, I..."

"Stop with the 'you,' this is a political task!" Zhang Baocheng interrupted him, regaining his directorial authority: "Here's what we'll do: go back to the bureau now and notify all department heads that there will be a meeting at six o'clock sharp! No matter what the matter is, you must be there!"

"What about Deputy Director Guo?" Zhao Jianguo asked.

"He's gone to the countryside, he's not in the county. Don't worry about him, I'm in charge of this!" Zhang Baocheng waved his hand, got into his car, and drove off.

He stood at the deserted village entrance, looking at the surrounding ruins, and smiled self-deprecatingly. In the end, the pen had become a carrying pole.

He took out his phone and dialed Wang Pingping's number.