The day Cheng Yuan, a straight-A graduate from the police academy, became an auxiliary police officer with a monthly salary of 2,800, his father smashed his beloved purple clay pot. In the past three years, he has experienced many hardships: he got third-class merit for chasing fugitives, but the scenic spot did not recognize his ID; he was stabbed in the lung while rescuing someone, and the words "Officer Cheng" on the banner burned his eyes; even his blind date laughed at him: "Auxiliary police are considered part of the system?" The turning point happened on the bridge in the development zone on a rainy night. When he dragged Su Xia, a girl who committed suicide, back to the world, he discovered that the reason for her suicide contained bruises from sexual assault in the workplace - just like the institutional scars branded on his police badge. He taught her how to use a button camera to collect evidence, and she taught him how to reconcile with the "temp" label. When Cheng Yuan passed the country's first special examination for "assistant transfer to police", Su Xia was pouring the winning compensation into the Judicial Reform Foundation. At the awarding ceremony, the new police badge was pressed against the auxiliary police badge that used to block the knife, and the apology letter from the scenic spot arrived at the same time as the new police terminal. At this moment, they finally dare to say: Those who were once regarded as "auxiliary" are exactly supporting the backbone of justice. Tear open the most secretive lining of the police system and see how a group of "informal" guardians live their lives as fire before dawn amid prejudice and danger.
Purpose: "The police badge will not lose weight just because it is pinned on the shoulders of the auxiliary police, just like a scar will not hurt just because it is engraved on the body of a temporary worker." "The justice taught in the police academy never distinguishes between inside and outside the establishment."