Construction Site 18

I chatted with Lin Ironhead and Fatty Wang about random topics, and soon the conversation turned to finding work.

On construction sites, the jobs are tough, exhausting, and often dangerous, but the pay is relatively high. The workforce is a motley mix; no matter your background, as long as you’re willing to work hard and aren’t afraid of danger, they’ll usually hire you.

Back then, to pay for Granny Li’s treatment, I dropped out of high school before graduating and worked in a bar. Lin Ironhead left after junior high to work on construction sites—his family wasn’t much better off than mine.

Lin Ironhead has a younger sister born with a congenital heart condition. Without surgery, she wouldn’t have lived long, and even with surgery, it had to be done in stages, each time costly, complicated, and dangerous. His father suggested quietly abandoning the girl, but his mother couldn’t bear it. They argued, and eventually his father used working out of town as an excuse to leave and never returned. To help cover his sister’s medical bills, Lin Ironhead went to work on construction sites right after junior high.

His mother took whatever temporary jobs she could find nearby to care for her daughter, but didn’t earn much. Now the family relies mainly on Lin Ironhead’s wages from the site.

I knew Lin Ironhead shared my hardships; neither he nor Fatty Wang would look down on me. After I got out, a few friends who used to be close blocked me on QQ, afraid I’d cause them trouble.

People flock together according to their kind; even the best friends grow distant as differences in status and wealth widen. That’s the reality of human relationships.

Fatty Wang’s family wasn’t well-off either. His father, too poor to afford a wife, nearly became a lifelong bachelor. Around thirty-five or thirty-six, with help and money, he bought a woman from out of town to marry. A year after their wedding, she gave birth to Fatty Wang, but when he was about two, she went away to work and never returned.

Rumors in the village were rife: some said Fatty Wang’s mother ran off and remarried elsewhere; others claimed she was trafficked; some even whispered she was working as a prostitute in Guangdong. As a result, Fatty Wang’s family couldn’t hold their heads up. His father now scrapes by doing odd jobs.

After a few glasses of Erguotou, our complaints grew louder—about the injustice of wealth. The rich indulge in pleasure, women change at their whim, while the poor toil endlessly just for food, living hard lives under pressure; even the rich families’ dogs eat better than us.

But grievances are just that—after venting, all we can do is keep working and earning.

I told Lin Ironhead I wanted to work on a site and hoped he could help me make introductions. He thought it over and said, “Feng, the site where I work is run by a foreman named Xu. I can take you to ask him if he’s hiring.”

I replied, “Ironhead, I’ll have to trouble you then.” He said, “It’s no trouble, but the guy’s tricky—his word isn’t reliable, and he’s hard to get along with.”

I said, “You know my situation—it’s hard to find work, so I really hope I can get something to earn a living.”

Lin Ironhead hesitated. “Feng, I’ll be honest. The pay on site sounds decent, but it’s tough, exhausting, and dangerous.”

I nodded, “Ironhead, I’m not afraid. I’m prepared for it.”

He continued, “That’s not the worst of it. What worries me most is working hard all year and not getting paid. There are plenty of cases where the site gets abandoned, and the foreman runs off with the wages. I experienced it myself; I’m still owed over eight thousand.”

It’s common for laborers on sites not to get their pay, especially with small contracting teams. Larger, legitimate construction companies rarely withhold wages, but getting in isn’t easy, especially for someone like me. They wouldn’t hire me.

After drinking, Lin Ironhead prepared to take me to see Foreman Xu. According to him, Xu Qingyun, the foreman, had fifty or sixty laborers under him. Recently, work was busy, so he might be willing to take on more hands.

Fatty Wang handed me the pack of Huazi cigarettes he’d gotten back from Brother Du, saying, “Take this—it might help when you talk.”

I didn’t want to waste the cigarettes, but as Lin Ironhead said, his daily wage was two hundred and fifty yuan—a pack of Huazi was two days’ pay. If I could get a job, offering a pack as a gift was only right. After all, if I was going to work under him, a token at first meeting was customary.

Lin Ironhead took me to find Xu Qingyun, who lived in a single-story house. Lin Ironhead shared a workers’ dorm with three others nearby, both close to the site.

When we arrived, Xu Qingyun was in the house, flirting with a garishly dressed woman. As we entered, his hands continued roaming her body, showing no intention of stopping.

Xu Qingyun looked about thirty, with a thick gold chain around his neck, triangular eyes, short brows, a hooked nose, and a pointed chin—clearly a tough character. His laborers were a mixed bunch; without some ruthless methods, he couldn’t manage them.

Lin Ironhead explained why we’d come and handed over the cigarettes. Xu Qingyun looked me over coldly. “Ironhead’s been with me for a while. Since he’s brought you, I’ll take you on. Skilled workers get over two hundred a day; you’re new, so it’s one hundred a day for the first month. When you get the hang of it next month, your pay will go up. How much depends on your ability and attitude. Anything you don’t know, ask Ironhead.”

I nodded. “Thank you, Brother Xu. I understand.”

Xu Qingyun added, “Wages might not be paid on time, but you’ll get a thousand living expenses each month. Food and lodging are included.”

Working under a small foreman was straightforward—no contract, no social insurance, just a verbal agreement on pay and you could start. He wouldn’t ask about your past either.

And so, I followed Lin Ironhead and began working on the site.