The month is ending, and seeing the battle for monthly tickets raging on—what spirit, what intense fervor! Was Qin Jingzhong's standing high? Not particularly.

A man whose grave dirt already reached his jawbone, no matter how formidable he was in his prime, was nearing his return to dust.

Leaders are pragmatic; investing in such a man was highly likely to be a fruitless endeavor.

It would be better to channel that effort elsewhere, toward more long-term investments.

Yet, there are always exceptions to the rule.

Qin Jingzhong was indeed old, on the verge of his final rest, but he had a remarkably capable son, Qin Xue, who had just been promoted to Party Secretary of Jiangzhou Directly-Administered Municipality—a rising star in the political arena whose future prospects were virtually limitless.

One must remember that the Party Secretary of Jiangzhou had produced a "Number One" leader before, and several "Number Twos" and "Number Threes." Qin Xue’s political career was currently flourishing; who knew how far he might advance? It was true that Qin Jingzhong might not live to see that day, but investing in the father of such a great figure would certainly not be wasted effort.

For a "small figure" like Yu Zhifeng, who usually had to beg just for a glimpse of the old man, hearing that the Elder was attending this birthday banquet was an unexpected delight! Qi Ji followed behind Yu Zhifeng, utterly bewildered, walking quickly out of the VIP room.

Seeing Secretary Peng Jie, Yu Zhifeng’s aide, wearing an expression of barely concealed excitement, he couldn't help but whisper, "Brother Peng, just who is this Elder Qin?" "You don't know?" Peng Jie glanced at him with surprise, then nodded. "That's understandable; you wouldn't know.

Elder Qin is the father of Qin Xue, the Party Secretary of Jiangzhou.

He's been living quietly in his hometown for his retirement, rarely making appearances." Qin Xue’s father? Qi Ji was instantly stunned.

This was Qin Xue's native place, and who in the region didn't know the man who might one day lead the entire nation? Mentioning Qin Xue made people swell with hometown pride.

As the eldest grandson of the Qi family, the legitimate direct heir, Qi Ji was intimately familiar with his family’s network.

His grandfather, despite living to the ripe age of eighty-eight, had retired merely as a retired deputy section-level cadre—a universe away from a founding meritorious official like Qin Jingzhong.

No other member of the family had the standing to invite a heavyweight like Qin Jingzhong, so Qi Ji's first thought was to wonder if the information was mistaken.

At that moment, Yu Zhifeng turned back, asking with a hint of reproach, "If Elder Qin is coming, why didn't you tell me sooner?" "Uh..." Qi Ji forced a bitter smile. "Our family has absolutely no connection with that Elder Qin.

Mayor Yu, I suspect the information might be wrong?" Wrong? Yu Zhifeng abruptly halted.

His secretary, Peng Jie, nearly crashed into him and quickly sidestepped.

His eyes darted rapidly.

Yu Zhifeng did begin to doubt if there had been a mistake.

What Little Qi said was clearly the truth, and people wouldn't joke about such matters.

But the police escort couldn't be fake, could it? Who would spread such false news for no reason? Suddenly, Yu Zhifeng recalled running into Qi Fei in the hallway earlier.

Hadn't she mentioned going to meet an important guest? If that guest was Qin Jingzhong, it would perfectly explain her earlier dismissive attitude.

After all, if she was going to greet the father of a potential national leader, why would she spare a glance for a mere Deputy Mayor? With the two pieces of evidence confirming each other, Yu Zhifeng finally solidified his guess.

Furthermore, in matters like this, it was always better to believe it true than false.

If he had misjudged and the wrong person arrived, it would just be an awkward scene.

But if it really was Elder Qin and he failed to welcome him, he would surely regret it for the rest of his life.

...

In the elevator, Wang Zhuo scratched his head and asked Qin Jingzhong, "Old Master, I just asked you to send something over as a gesture of support; why did you come personally?" "You mean I came uninvited?" Qin Jingzhong puffed out his beard. "I was idle at home, my body practically rusting.

I heard an old fellow was celebrating a birthday, so I decided to drop by.

What, you’re not welcoming?" Guan Yingying immediately chimed in with a laugh, "Welcome, welcome! We offer you our warmest welcome!" Qi Fei said with a smile, "My grandfather is your admirer.

If he knew you were coming, I don't know how excited he’d be." "That's more like it," Qin Jingzhong nodded with satisfaction. "Is this the gift for Grandpa Qi?" Wang Zhuo reached out toward a box held by Qin Siqing.

The box was ancient and simple, looking quite old.

Qin Jingzhong's driver, Xiao Ping, who now functioned almost as a bodyguard, was free-handed, so the box rested with Qin Siqing.

The hotel elevator was spacious; over a dozen people standing inside didn't feel crowded.

Qin Jingzhong’s entourage consisted of only four people: himself, his granddaughter Qin Siqing, the driver/bodyguard Xiao Ping, and Wang Zhuo’s old acquaintance, the woman named Zhen Jin whom he had personally rescued from the Red House.

This assembly was rather interesting.

Qin Jingzhong was an elder in his eighties, yet he possessed excellent spirit and vigor, clearly a man accustomed to comfort and high status for many years.

Driver Xiao Ping, in his forties, was unremarkable in appearance, yet it was immediately clear he was no ordinary person; though his aura was restrained, he carried a presence not inferior to Yu Zhifeng’s.

Qin Siqing was growing taller and slender.

The seventeen-year-old girl