Name: Fan Xian Entered Handong and Stopped Team Qi from Signing

When Fan Xian opened his eyes again, he became a low-level clerk in a leaky office without even a separate desk. There was no black knight guard, and he only had an official seal in his hand that had to be dropped carefully, and a serious accident note that urged him to confirm. It read in black and white: All personnel have been evacuated, and the pension has been paid in full. But on the list he had just checked, there was a lonely old man who passed away last month; and outside the door, a muddy young police officer was preparing to write down the qualitative materials. Fan Xian knew that the man in front of him who dared to rush into the collapsed house to save others would be driven to the end of Lone Eagle Ridge by desire and despair. This time, he stretched out his hand and held down the pen: "Qi Captain, before signing the name, find all the people under the ruins first." Since that night, there has been a Dinghaishen needle in the undercurrent of Handong. Many years later, when a storm blew through his bones, someone asked him what he wanted. Fan Xian closed the file and smiled: "Let the people who deserve to live live, and let the people who did the dirty things not get away."