Celestial Yard, Block 1.

The wind blew a drink bottle, dripping and turning. A short, stocky middle-aged man, stretched out his foot and stepped on it. He picked up the empty bottle and carefully threw it into the recycling bin next to him.

Everyone standing on the side of the platform looked at the functional device in their hands, and none of them noticed this. The middle-aged man tightened his black coat, he glanced at the functional device on his wrist, and muttered with some dissatisfaction: "Why are you a minute late, it's really getting more and more unusual." “

At this moment, a red fire came from the sky in the distance. Soon, a continuous explosion was heard. Everyone on the platform couldn't help but look up, and a few close people began to discuss carefully.

"Those guys in the Xiuzhen District, they seem to be going crazy right now. "This is the end of rebellion against the Celestial Realm, and it is long overdue to give these unruly fellows a little color. "A bunch of hillbillies, also wanting to confront the Celestial Realm. “

The middle-aged man listened to everyone's words, and his dry face showed a thoughtful expression. He grabbed some of the thinning hair with his hand and glanced at the time on the function. At 8:20, there are still 40 minutes, which is the time when the office will open.

While I was thinking about it, a railcar came at a rapid pace. As soon as it came to a standstill, the dense flow of people like an ant colony swarmed down and up again. The man hurried into the car, but he was still a step too late to sit down next to the window where he usually sits.

The middle-aged man sighed, and he reached for the ring. But he found that his altitude was a little insufficient, so he had to stand on tiptoe and struggle. The recoil of the rail car started so that he accidentally hit the arms of the girl on the side.

The middle-aged man hurriedly bowed his head and apologized, "I'm sorry, dear miss." The petite woman gave him a roll of the eye and ignored him again. The man sighed again, stretched out his hand, and tugged at the ring.

After seven stops, the middle-aged man finally got off the train. He wiped the sweat drops from his head and looked again, Functional's time, 8:40. Everything is still being planned, and you can get to the office just by walking just a street corner.

The middle-aged man glanced back, and the railcar started again. In the window seat, the thick black man always sits. He yawned, squinted again, and fell asleep.

The middle-aged man didn't stop any longer, he began to set off towards his destination. Block 1 is an administrative district, and the streets are lined with old buildings with traces of age. There was no transportation on the streets, only pedestrians hurrying along the road.

The middle-aged man walked slowly while breathing in the aroma of flowers and plants on both sides of the street. The troubles encountered in the morning cannot be swept away. There was a commotion, and he looked up. An old building on the side of the street is under construction, and perhaps because of the flow of people, it is being converted into a bar.

A few stout workers were constantly coming in and out of the outside. The building materials were piled up on the grass on one side, like a perfect canvas, with a few more scratches.

The middle-aged man stood outside and watched quietly for three minutes. A worker passed by him, and he couldn't help but say, "Well, doesn't it say here that you can't renovate?" The worker looked at him and chuckled, "I don't know about this, you have to ask the owner of the house." ”

The middle-aged man glanced again, the time of the function, 8:51. He frowned, no more words, and quickened his pace towards his office.

When the clock struck 9 o'clock for the first time, the man finally arrived at his place of work. It was a dilapidated old house, standing alone in the middle of the block. He walked briskly up the tall steps, and the guards on both sides of the gate nodded to him stiffly.

"Morning, Mr. Popang. "Morning, is everything going well? The middle-aged man responded enthusiastically. As always, after the other party politely greets him, there will be no response.

Mr. Popon walked through the empty hallway, and could only hear his own footsteps. The doors of the offices were closed, and occasionally someone came out of the door and disappeared like a ghost.

As he reached the innermost door, Mr. Popon stopped. He took a deep breath and gently pushed open the heavy door. There was a tall desk inside, and it was as empty as ever against the chair.

Mr. Popon breathed a sigh of relief, and he quickly closed the door. After a while, he calmed down, bowed to the tall desk, and said, "Your Excellency, office hours have begun." ”

As always, no one responded to his voice, and Mr. Popong bowed again and slowly retreated. He came to his place, and in one corner there was a small bench with a mountain of paperwork beside it.

Mr. Popon took off his coat and laid it flat on the ground to the side. He struggled to sit down, his big belly paining him. Mr. Popon sighed softly and began his day's work again.

Mr. Popon worked so fast that he could decide where it was going with just a glance at the signature under the paperwork. Soon, most of the paperwork was thrown into a tall scrap of paper. There were only ten documents left, which he carefully placed at his feet.

Ten documents, all of which have an auspicious cloud pattern beginning with signatures. Mr. Popang knew that this pattern meant. It is a proposal or participation of the Patrol Angel. After only reading two lines, one of them immediately caught his attention.

The other party's writing is very sophisticated, and the document is like telling a story, full of intrigue and twists and turns. A smile appeared on Mr. Popon's face, and he chuckled, "Interesting fellow, let's take a look at it again." ”

Mr. Popong put the paperwork aside and began to look at the others. As always, the others are as empty as ever, without a hint of practical advice.

Mr. Popang threw the last document aside, and said angrily: "These guys, when copying, are also serious, how the content is the same." He pondered for a moment, took out a red pen from his bosom, and drew a circle on each of the swift papers.

Mr. Popon got up and threw the nine papers into the black box by the door. With all this done, he stretched his waist and took the paperwork in his hand again. After some thought, he got up and walked over to the tall desk.

Approaching him, Mr. Popong bowed and saluted, "Your Excellency, I think this plan can be carried out. As always, no one responded to his voice. Mr. Popon placed the paperwork on the table, and then carefully pulled out a box from the drawer of his desk.

Mr. Popang opened the box, and there was a jade seal inside. He picked up the seal, sighed softly, and stamped it heavily on the paperwork. The red imprints, on both sides, are written with the ancient compilation of heaven and earth by me, and ten thousand laws are free.

With all that done, Mr. Popon put down his seal and exhaled lightly. He looked around, then carefully touched the large chair. "When will I be able to actually sit here. Mr. Popon sighed softly, a look of envy on his face.

With that, Mr. Popong seemed to be taken aback by his own thoughts. Hurriedly bowed again. He wanted to put the seal away, but he stopped. He pondered for a moment, then pulled out a few blank sheets of paper from a drawer beside him.

Mr. Popon began to put pen to paper, and I don't know how long it took. He glanced up at the time of the clock on the wall, 12:00. He stopped writing, walked to his corner, took out a small food box, and began his lunch.

When the clock reached 1 o'clock, Mr. Popon got up from the ground. He started writing again, and after stamping the four pieces of copy. Mr. Popon looked at the time, and it was exactly 4:50.

He chuckled and nodded, "Just in time to get to work." Mr. Popong threw the five proposals into the red box by the door, and gently shook a brass bell on the table. Two figures appeared silently.

He spoke, "Please carry out the above decision immediately. The red and black boxes disappeared in an instant. At this moment, the bell rang. Mr. Popang immediately got up, put on his overcoat, and walked out without stopping.

Passing by the construction site, a team of guards was spotted pulling several people into a prison van. The illegal building was being demolished, and Mr. Popon looked at it for a moment, chuckling and nodding. He came to the station and looked at the time on his function, 5:10.

Before Mr. Popong could complain, a railcar rattled and raced into the station. He ignored the grumblings of the passengers who got off the bus. Rushing straight into the carriage, he finally sat in his usual seat.

Mr. Popong looked out the window. A rough black man roared and ran through the front, and several guards threw him to the ground from behind, hitting him on the head incessantly.

"The world is in order, and the world is beautiful. Mr. Popon sighed. As always, he closed his eyes and hummed his familiar ballad.