Chapter 4 Chapter Four

Wrong skin business - this is the lingo of the villagers of the three surnames who sell skins.If you encounter a bully in the process of selling skins, how much will you ask for, and how much will you give to your partner?The seller really felt that he had opened a lion's mouth, and the other party thought, oh my god, what he was selling was human skin, so he only asked for such a small amount of money.It's a pity that such an opportunity does not come once in a hundred years. In the autumn of 1945, Sima Lan’s grandfather, Sima Nanshan, was selling fungus at Chengguan. The Japanese passed by across the street and carried a few soldiers whose skins were burned by the war and hung like cobwebs.Seeing this scene, Lan Nanshan left his business and went to the market to find a few villagers with three surnames who came to the market together. The soldiers were together, chattering and chattering in the burn hospital on the battlefield. Sima Nanshan led the villagers to rush in: "Do you want leather?" "Leather? You mean leather." White smoke came out from the ears.He led Sima Nanshan to the missionary's study and bedroom on the second floor of the church building. Today, he is the office of the dean.He didn't urinate, but he had to go to the toilet in a hurry.Half a year ago, he didn't have to worry about the skin source for the skin grafting. The Chinese prisoners in Chengbei Prison, the migrant workers under the highway bridge, just brought them here and cut some off their legs.But this is 1945, and he can no longer have his living skin source.However, at this moment, the militia battalion commander led Lan Nanshan up to the church building.

Dean, someone is here to sell leather. The dean stopped running to the toilet. Did you catch it? The battalion commander said, voluntarily, it was sent to the door voluntarily. The Japanese dean was silent.He stared at China's Lannan Mountain suspiciously for a long time, and the militia battalion commander said that they wanted money, a lot of money, money that could buy a donkey.The Japanese dean suddenly looked up to the sky and laughed long and loudly. His laughter beat the beams and walls of the church building, and the dust fell down glisteningly.Money, the director of Japan said, both the burn hospital and the county can give them.Sima Nanshan was led into the operating room by several Japanese medical staff.When he was carried out from the operating room by other villagers, there was a pile of money on the stretcher.Dozens of them are like hanging a few bricks, and the Japanese also gave Lan Nanshan the iron canvas stretcher.On the way back to the village, Sima Nanshan was holding the bag of money, his legs were throbbing with pain, and he said that the Japanese didn't cut my tendons, did they?The person carrying it said, no, I have been standing on the edge of the operating table, and I will climb up when you come down, but the Japanese have cut enough fucking off your legs, and don't want my skin anymore.It was Du Bo's grandfather Du Xizi who said this.Du Laizi limped his left leg because of selling skins. He has been waiting for a chance to sell another piece of his right leg. It would be better if both legs were limped.He said: Brother Nanshan, the Japanese are not as bad as they say, you have made a fortune today.Sima Nanshan held back the pain and said that he would use the money to buy ten donkeys and open two dyeing houses.Ten donkeys make a trip to Qingdao every six months, five with salt and five with kelp.From now on, we villagers with three surnames will no longer fucking eat salt from Xuzhou.One of the two dyeing houses opened to the town and the other to Chengguan. Half of the money earned went to our Sima family, and the other half went to the village to buy salt.After hearing this, Du Zizi smacked his tongue and asked: How many years can people eat Qingdao salt without getting throat problems?Sima Nanshan said that the trial would take three years and two years.Du Zizi pinched his fingers and calculated his age. He would not die within ten years, and it would be no problem to catch up with eating Qingdao salt and kelp for a few years.After eating the salt and kelp from Qingdao, maybe he can live to fifty, sixty, or even seventy or eighty like other people from Palou Mountain, without having a sore throat.The days of living without a sore throat illuminated the village of Sanxing, Lan's family, Du's family, and Sima's family like the sun that just came out of the mountain depression.The money is on the stretcher, the donkey is in the market town, and the salt and kelp are on the coast of Shandong Province.Du Laizi walked quickly while carrying the stretcher, and Sima Nanshan swayed on the stretcher that was swayed by his limp, as if he was lying on a bullock cart pulled by a frightened cow.After a day and night journey, they returned to the village before dawn.The moonlight melted, and the village was so quiet that the sound of the moonlight landing could be heard.Du Laizi stood under the saponin tree at the head of the village and called out,——Hello——the Lan family, the Du family, the Sima family, Brother Nanshan and the Japanese made a bad deal, and each family contributed a strong laborer before dawn. Buy ten good donkeys from eight neighboring villages, and go to Qingdao next month to pack salt and kelp——Du Laizi’s cry is clear and bright like a bell in the sleeping village, and the villagers of the three surnames are eating in the clear and clear cry. Half a bowl of rice was put on clothes and concentrated on the head of the village.

Three months later, when Sanxing Village was driving their donkey team to Qingdao, they just arrived at the town, took out their daily tickets to buy soup at the restaurant, and handed a 5,000 yuan ticket through the window. Throw the money out of the window again, saying that the Japanese have surrendered for two and a half months, and use the cash to drink soup. But in the end, it was an unjust business that made a fortune.