People in our business are called "chickens".
And I belong to the unorganized fight alone, and I am a "pheasant".
My family and I live in the old street near the railway station in S city, on a small earthen bag with relatively high terrain. I do this for my children.
Not long ago, when I met my husband, he was a tall and thin man with a good complexion, a glib tongue and a strong body. At that time, I just came to live in the city from the surrounding counties. I don't know anything and I don't know anyone. He takes good care of me.
Personally, I think that a man with strength is always better than a man with a weak chicken. In our countryside, we need a strong man to clean up the crops. I don't know that his power has added endless pain to my later life.
We lived together for a while.
He just got divorced and wants me to marry him. But I still have some hesitation. I want to live a more stable life. We both live in rental housing, which is not suitable.
Later, he told me that he had a house, which was left to him by his parents. Because the old house was rented out, he lived in a rental house. He also showed me the house where we live now, and watched him seriously talk to the tenant there and ask him when he could move out. I felt the sense of stability came back, so we got married.
The house was built in the middle of a small yard, an old bungalow in the old society, and I don't know how many years, just like an old man in his seventies and eighties. The gate is still two old wooden doors that need to be bolted. The floor in the room is still rugged mud. As soon as you enter the door, it is a place to receive visitors. Left and right wings, the kitchen is behind the living room.
On the left of the old bungalow is an old two-story building, which has been built for at least twenty or thirty years. It was built by her husband's second brother and second sister-in-law On the right and behind is a circle of temporary rental houses, where many people struggle at the bottom of the city, such as sweeping the streets, selling fried dough sticks and quail eggs, sewers, coolies on the construction site and "chickens" like me.
My husband's second brother and second sister-in-law are a pair of strange people, in my opinion.
Second brother likes to tell others to do things. He said that he is a master of calligraphy and practices calligraphy every day. It is said that he sent 500 yuan to a calligraphy institution whose name is unknown, and then the other party sent him a small plaque engraved with a visiting professor or something. I don't understand. But every time the second brother talks to people, he will add firmly: I am a professor, I can't be wrong, you have to listen to me.
Ersao looks like a strange girl who is competitive. She likes to compare with her husband. For example, second brother is learning calligraphy, so she will learn to dance and sing. She stands on the top of the second floor every day, hanging her throat. First of all, "ah ... ah ... ah ...", all the way up, and then "ah ... ah ...", all the way down, it became a strange scenery in this small yard.
Second brother and second sister-in-law manage the whole yard, and they build rental houses in that circle. They are real renters and renters. In fact, they are as smart and domineering as in the movies.
Second brother and second sister-in-law also have a son, about twenty years old, who is not the same as his parents' smart and domineering appearance. He looks very kind, generous and honest.
They also have a dog. It's an ugly dog with long hair and dirty body. But they say it's not dirty, but the dog is old. Dogs that have been kept for more than ten years can no longer have their original youth and beauty.
They cherish the dog very much. They always call it "Baby", feed it with beef mutton soup, bathe it every once in a while, and often take it out for a walk, sometimes led by the couple and sometimes their son.
Every time yisow looks at other people coming and going in the yard at a 60-degree angle under the window on the second floor with her dog in her arms, just like a virgin, she looks down on all beings with compassion.
So I think in the eyes of this couple, the identity of this dog is more noble than that of others in the yard. Of course, apart from my husband and my son, they are related by blood after all.
However, on a cold night, I heard a dog barking after me. At first, it was painful and loud, then it turned into a miserable scream, then a weak sob, and then silence.
I got out of bed, and the thin quilt couldn't stop the sound from penetrating, making me tremble with cold.
I turned my head and looked at my husband. He was snoring and lying there in a daze. His beautiful face is shiny at this time, and there is still a trace of saliva in his mouth.
The next day, I heard that the dog didn't know how big a mistake it had made. Second brother and second sister-in-law's son, who seems to be kind, generous and honest, was hung on the porch with a rope and slowly killed with a thick wooden stick. It is said that dogs are covered in blood and beaten like dogs.
Hearing the news, I shivered again.
My husband, after we got married, showed his true colors, drinking and violence. Alcohol is a stimulant before his violence, and hitting people is his climax after drinking. Even sometimes, he obviously didn't drink, but his eyes still looked blank and his speech was upside down.
My husband is afraid of his second brother. I heard that he lived in a rented house outside because he was kicked out by his second brother. He has been unemployed for a long time. Although he is good at bragging, he can never do his job, so he relies on cheating women out of money to buy drinks.
This guy is a soft egg outside, and he is always the boss when he comes home. Use your wife and children as sandbags after drinking. I despise him mentally.
I always feel that it is nothing to sell my body. I also make a living, and every penny I earn has a legitimate purpose. However, it is the greatest torture in life to accompany Xiao Yi to deal with this soft egg every day and maintain the integrity of the whole family.
Now he finally goes to work, working as a security guard in a small enterprise, but more than half of his monthly salary of 1000 yuan is thrown into the bottle, and the rest is not enough for pocket money.
I must save some money for my son. We can't leave here until he grows up.
People come and go at the railway station in S city. As the saying goes, "the train station is the most chaotic", and some people say that "the train station is good for making money". Pheasants like me can only eat in this messy place.
I put on a pair of tight jeans and stuffed my clothes in my waistband, so my waist came out. Although I still look a little fat, those men don't care much. Pull down the zipper at the collar, so that the advantages of fat people can be reflected. When people get fat, their breasts will get bigger, and everyone likes them.
I waited behind a bus stop sign, behind which were guardrails and barbed wire. Under the guardrail and barbed wire, there are train tracks. Many people who get off the train will come here to take the bus. There are many vendors selling new fruits with baskets, and there are also many unemployed people wandering here. Fortune-tellers and "pheasants" also love this area, and everyone knows it.
Next to me, there are already two fortune tellers sitting on their own benches. There is a yellow paper, a pamphlet and a sign in front of them, which looks unfathomable, like a monk who has attained enlightenment. They dipped their fingertips in saliva and pinched their fingers at the old sister-in-law who came to ask for good or ill luck. In fact, their bellies are full of shit.
There was a bald fortune teller who always wanted to take advantage of me and not spend money. I refused, and then he never talked to me again.
We are pheasants and fortune tellers. Actually, we are all about the same.
At this moment, a short middle-aged man came over, dressed in a dirty suit, looking a little honest. He narrowed his eyes and leaned over. I got the message, grabbed his hand and touched the zipper at his lower abdomen. He asked, how much is it?
My other hand reached out and gestured with three fingers.
The man in the suit wanted to think, but he pulled his hand back and left.
Business is really bad today, and I didn't do a single order, but I don't want to reduce the price easily for such passers-by Sisters have made a rule that the market in this area should not be chaotic unless it is an old customer.
Fifty meters in front of this bus stop, there is a row of facades for the renovation of houses. A facade is about four or five square meters to ten square meters. Some sell hardware, some sell sex products, some sell vegetable seeds, and some have names in eight characters.
The owner of the shop who specializes in reading eight-character names is my old customer.
His shop is one of the shops in that row. His wife is taking care of her grandson in the country, and she usually comes to me to solve it when she needs it. But he is very stingy, giving only ten dollars at a time. As an old customer, I don't care about him.
He separated a cubicle with plywood at the back of the shop, with a small single bed in it, where we usually solve problems. He is very fast, looks after the shop and is very happy.
This time, as usual, he gave me ten dollars. I saw that he still had a five-dollar bill in his hand, so I grabbed it and told him to be generous once in a while?
The old man was full of stubble and quickly took back the five dollars. He also plausibly told me: in business, we must also talk about rules, so that business can last for a long time.
I had to watch angrily as he stuffed five dollars back into the drawer under the counter.
Urban management occasionally comes here to expel, and fortune tellers and fruit vendors carrying baskets bear the brunt.
Although we "pheasants" are not afraid of being expelled from the urban management, it is always not aboveboard enough to do such a thing, and it is impossible to solicit customers under the nose of the urban management, so under normal circumstances, everyone follows.
On this day, the urban management came again, and we dispersed in a hubbub.
I crossed the road and ran non-stop to a dark alley. I was running, and suddenly I heard someone shouting behind me:
Liang Xiaoyao's family Liang Xiaoyao's family is back! Something happened to your family!
I suddenly stopped and looked back.
Liang Xiaoyao is my husband, a tyrant and a soft egg at home. There are eight brothers and sisters in his family. Is he his son? Everyone calls him Liang Xiaoyao.
It was an elder sister who called me from a rented room in the same yard. She also worked outside with me, and didn't come out because she was a little uncomfortable this day.
Panting at me, she said:
Your family was brought back, something happened! I'm afraid I'm dead! Go back and watch!
I hurried home without stopping. It's actually only ten minutes' walk from my home to the bus stop that stops every day. I crossed the road, ran against the flow of people on the sidewalk, then climbed a small slope, ran a few steps and climbed a flight of steps, and arrived at our yard.
The door in the middle of that old bungalow was open, and many people were in it, making a lot of noise. In the middle of the hall, there is a board lying on the mud. My soft husband lies flat on it. His hands, which are usually used to hold wine bottles and hit women, hang limply on the ground. His eyes were closed and his face was like the belly of a dead fish.
I walked past in a daze, and the sound of the whole world seemed to disappear.
Who is the man on the blackboard? Did he die like this?
It's weird.
I didn't feel sad or happy, so I squatted in front of the man and looked at him in a daze. At this time, someone took my arm from behind and said, my family, I am very sorry for your loss.
I woke up suddenly, jumped up from the ground and shouted, son! Where is my son?
The crowd dispersed one after another and my son was pushed from behind. He pulled my skirt timidly, and there were two bruises on the arm exposed outside the sleeve, which his father pinched with his fingers when he lost his temper. He asked me timidly: mom, mom, is dad dead?
I hugged my son and burst into tears.
The funeral went smoothly. The husband had many brothers and sisters, and many people made great efforts, so he did things very neatly.
Soft husband drank too much, and when he was on duty at work, he was drunk to death. His brothers and sisters found a lawyer, inexplicably reported a work-related injury, and finally lost hundreds of thousands, and I also took a lot.
I don't think I need to be a pheasant. I can consider doing a little business or something. When the son grows up, there is no need to be embarrassed about the mother's career.
That worthless soft egg, his death made the greatest contribution in his life.
. end.