Chapter 19 Section 5 "Productivity" of Blood Slaves

That morning, I followed Changfa to apply for an ID card. After Changfa knew that I was a private teacher, he was very polite to me along the way.He said that private teachers are very poor, there are only a few in his village, and they are so poor that no one wants to marry him.Alas, even hooligans can see that private teachers are panicking, why can't those with big bellies see it? Changfa and I were riding a rickshaw, and the person riding the tricycle was a man in his fifties with a stooped waist, like a question mark.Changfa showed me his views on the world and society all the way. He talked eloquently about national affairs.He may have considered it an honor to have a teacher admire his views.I listened all the way, echoed, he was elated and dancing.As the saying goes, "Hooligans are not to be feared, only those who are educated." In fact, hooligans like to pretend that they are educated, they like to pretend to be deep, and they like to speak politely. Some written languages ​​that people don't know will also appear in In their words, people feel inexplicable.Long hair also likes to mix some idioms when speaking, and these idioms are either used inappropriately or have a lot of typos.He said: "The United States hit Iraq by swallowing it all. Iraq is 'la' unprepared." He understood swallowing the date as "easy and convenient", and he described being caught off guard as "la" unprepared.

I told Changfa about my childhood life, real life.When I was young, I never had a full meal. The highest ideal at that time was to be able to eat a bowl of jelly, because at that time I thought jelly was the best food in the world.Every time I go to the market and pass the jelly stand, I will swallow my saliva in big mouthfuls.In fact, a bowl of jelly at that time was only 20 cents, but my parents were reluctant to give me 20 cents, because for 20 cents I could buy a catty of salt or pour a bottle of vinegar.Salt and vinegar were available in bulk at that time.The salt particles are huge and hard like rocks, and you need to use a hammer to break them open; the vinegar is brewed by a local old man with persimmons. Sour insects.When I was in junior high school, I was a boarding student. I went home once a week and came to school every Sunday afternoon with a week's worth of dry food.I can only eat one cornmeal steamed bun every day, and I eat sweet potatoes for the rest.In winter, the cornmeal steamed corn bread is so hard that it can kill a dog. There is a layer of icicles on the surface of the steamed corn bread. Once bitten, it will leave a few teeth marks.On Saturday afternoon, I dug wild vegetables on the way home, such as small garlic, shepherd’s purse, wild alfalfa, etc. I dug up everything that didn’t taste strange. After returning home, my mother boiled these wild vegetables with boiling water and sprinkled them with Salt, tossed with vinegar, in a canning jar, it's my go-to for the week.I don’t know where I got that canned bottle. I have been using it for three years in junior high school...

Long hair also talked about his childhood life.He said that when he was in elementary school, there was a private teacher who treated him very well and let him sleep in his house with an earthen stove when it was cold.But at that time, he didn't like studying, he liked to fight, and he always made the teacher angry.Later, the teacher died of illness, and he always felt very guilty.When he was in junior high school, his father was always bullied by the village chief.Once, he called a few buddies and hid at the entrance of the village. When the village head came home at night, they smashed the village head with stones and put the village head in the hospital.Later, the village head knew that he did it, but he didn't dare to blame him, because at this time he already had a group of brothers who liked to fight...

Longhair is the cutest rogue I've come across in the blood slave community. On the way, we also encountered several vehicles bringing blood slaves back from selling blood. Changfa said that these were blood sellers from other places.He doesn't even know how many blood slaves there are here, "Less say there are thousands. This is the way to get rich here, the way to get rich." At noon, the rickshaw took Changfa and me to the blood selling place I visited last time. There were still many people gathered around the blood selling place, all blood slaves.Changfa said: "It's like this every day here. The business of the blood bank is very good. There are only a few women who draw blood, and the money they give out is tens of thousands a day. How much money do you think they have?" Changfa said. Said enviously.

There is a shop tens of meters away from the blood station, which is hidden in the shade of a dense tree.There are bottles of Coca-Cola and Sprite on store shelves, as well as packets of instant noodles, their packaging covered in dust.There is a glass counter in the store, and there are several homework books in it, the corners have been rolled up, and they have obviously been placed for a long time.Beside the homework book are several cigarette boxes, which have been exposed to the wind and the sun for a long time, making the color of the cigarette boxes pale and white. I don't know if there are cigarettes in them.Like almost all country shops, this one carries a wide variety of everyday items, but only a few old items of each item.

This store, like the ones in the train stations of the big cities, is not dealing in merchandise. These merchandise are just a front, just to deceive people. They have another shady business. This store handles all kinds of documents.Changfa said that the boss used to carve seals, and the business has not been good. He only has two sets of clothes throughout the year, one for summer and one for winter.But since he got into the business of handling certificates, he has become completely rich. He wears a suit and tie all day long, and people who don’t know him think he is a Hong Kong businessman.

I followed Changfa into the store. The boss obviously knew Changfa. He pulled out a cigarette, lit it up for him, glanced at me, and put the cigarette in his pocket again.Changfa took out a cigarette from the boss’s pocket, took out one and handed it to me, saying: “You are too fucking stingy, you can’t bear to give out a cigarette when business comes.” The boss nodded and bowed and said: “Smoking! , smoke." The boss is in his forties, with slickness and treachery written all over his face. He was still smiling one second, and then he would pull his face down the next second. The smile disappeared suddenly like the wind, and you can only hear him Say something, but you don't know what he is thinking, his thoughts are like a woman's age, which is impossible to guess.He was wearing a pair of yellow army trousers, black leather shoes, and a scarlet sweater on top. suit.As Changfa said, the boss really got rich, and he really likes to wear suits.

Before applying for an ID card, you have to take a photo.The tricycle took Changfa and me to a town two or three miles away.In a photo studio, after the photo was taken, I waited for two hours before I got a one-inch bareheaded photo of myself.In the afternoon, the tricycle took us back to the store. The boss said: "At least six photos and six ID cards are required." I asked, "Why do I have so many ID cards? Isn't one enough?" The boss said: "How can one be used? People generally apply for more than a dozen ID cards, and they take one every time they sell blood, so that no one will find out."

Changfa also said beside him: "The boss is right, everyone is like this. You must do at least six." The boss took out a piece of paper and asked me to write down the address and name of the ID card I wanted to apply for.I took the ballpoint pen and hesitated, not knowing how to write.The boss snatched the ballpoint pen: "What's so difficult to write?" He wrote six names on the paper at once, Zhang Mingqiang, Li Desheng, Hu Shanhai, etc., and then filled in the words behind each name. Six different detailed addresses in Jiangxi Province and Henan Province. "I have applied for a lot of certificates, and I can write addresses all over the country." He said proudly.

In this way, I took a photo, developed it into six, and became six people, born in different places all over the country, and called six different names. In the afternoon, the six ID cards were completed.Each ID card has the same photo of me, but with a different name, birth address, and ID number.Holding these ID cards, I was amazed. It was dusk when the tricycle pulled us to our place of residence.The mountains and rivers are far away, silent and silent, the shadows of the trees are sparse, the smoke is curling up, and the wings of a few birds are flying silently in the high sky. All this looks as beautiful as an ink painting, but no one knows where A bloody crime hidden.

I went back to the room and saw all four people in the same bedroom.They had just had dinner and were sitting on the floor bored, some were digging their toenails with their fingers; A layer of dirt; there was another next to my bed, smoking one cigarette after another, and he seemed to have something on his mind. As soon as I settled down in my bunk, the hematoma came.He stood at the door, he didn't bother to walk into this smelly room, he pointed at me and said: "No. 89, you go to work tomorrow." After finishing speaking, he left.My number is 89.Here, the blood head calls each blood slave without a name, but with a number or nickname, just like a prisoner. The toenail picker stopped, his right index finger was still in the shape of a spoon, and he asked me, "What blood type are you?" I said, "Type O." Spoon said: "I am also type O, let's go together tomorrow." Shaozi said: "I have to sell blood more than ten times a month, and each time I use a different ID card." He put his arms together and showed me the needle holes on his two arms.On the arm, there are dense needle holes, as if wrapped in a layer of gauze. I asked: "You go to sell blood every other day, can't the nurse recognize you?" Spoon lowered its mouth contemptuously, laughed at me and said: "You are such a nerd, who cares? As long as you are willing to sell, they are eager to buy. 400 ml of blood only give us 200 yuan, you know they sell it to injured people who need blood transfusion People, how much will it cost? More than double!" I said: "Since this is the case, why do you need a fake ID card? A waste of our money." The person who was rubbing his body took over and said: "The ID card is the ear of the deaf, and it looks like a piece of shit." Afraid that I wouldn't understand, he added: "The people at the blood station have to give an explanation to the above. People with this ID card only sell blood once a month, and they can justify it.” Looking at the person outside the door has been silent, I later found out that he is a deaf-mute.Whenever he needed to sell blood, the blood head pulled his arm and poked his finger on his blood vessel, and he immediately understood what it meant. Here, at dusk every day, bloodheads would appear at the door of these rooms, informing people of which blood type to sell blood the next day.The source of the blood head's news is the blood tyrant.The blood tyrant's information comes from those blood stations.The blood bank will call the blood tyrant shortly after the blood is collected that day, what blood type will be needed the next day.At that time, mobile phones were still a rare item, and blood tyrants were all wealthy, so they all had mobile phones.Rich people like to use their mobile phones on the street, and the more crowded they are, the more they need to use their mobile phones.The big money took a walk while talking on the mobile phone, which became a unique sight on the street at that time.At that time, the mobile phone was as heavy as a brick and several times larger than a walkie-talkie. Holding it in your hand and swaggering through the market, you will have face!Blood tyrants not only have one mobile phone, but several. They like to hang their mobile phones in a row around their waists, like a row of grenades.They walked from the street like this, with a row of grenades hanging from their waists. Many people can still remember the proud look and scene after many years. The smoker was silent and looked very distressed. The spoon said, "Here's a newcomer, let's give out a cigarette!" He slowly pulled out the cigarette case from his pocket, and flicked out a few cigarettes. Reluctantly gave each of us a stick.I saw that this kind of cigarettes cost only two yuan and fifty cents a box, and they were sold in nearby shops.This low-quality cigarette is also the most commonly smoked cigarette by blood slaves. After the spoon finished smoking the cigarette, he took out a small bottle from under the mat, poured out a few pills from it, and swallowed it down. I think, is the spoon sick?How can you sell blood if you are sick?Can this diseased blood be detected?Will the blood bank accept sick blood?