His name is Lu Zhixing, an official who doesn't want to be an official.
On the day he was kicked from the provincial capital to the grassroots level, he just wanted to keep the dilapidated house of his mentor's widow. But on a typhoon night, he led more than 20 migrant workers into the huge waves and blocked the cracks in the seawall with their lives.
From then on, he took a different path.
He walked from Binhai to Jianghai, and from Jianghai to the provincial capital. I have offended local gangsters, brought down big shots, rejected political achievements that came to my doorstep, and once said to the foreman Lao Zhang on the construction site at three in the morning: "My life is as cheap and as precious as yours."
Three women loved him - one risked her future for him, one waited for him for ten years without regrets, and one said before parting: "You have the world in your heart, just pretend to be me once in a while."
When his friends were in trouble, he spent all his money to help; when he was in trouble, all directions came to help him. Even his boss, who was forced by him to transform, said: "This person is worth saving."
On the day he died, he sat by the moat, looked at the roads he had built, the river he had managed, and the houses he had built, and said to his grandson: "Grandpa, this life was worth it."
Later, that road was called Zhixing Road.
——He never thought of leaving his name in history, but he let a city remember his name.
