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第11章 Three Generations of Migrant Workers(8)

The short guy lit a cigarette and said, "Well, you have committed a serious crime. But according to the information we have, this is your first off ence, plus you seem to be an honest man. We shall half the fine to 50,000 yuan."

Degui answered pathetically, "But 50,000 yuan… where can I get 50,000 yuan…?"

The short guy stood up promptly, "If you don't pay the fine, we will be forced to hand you over to the police. Chief Wang, let's go!"

Degui grabbed the short guy's arm and begged, "Please have some mercy and reduce the fine some more!"

The short guy hesitated, "Where are you from?"

Degui answered honestly, "I'm from Hong'an, an old revolu-tionary base. A lot of revolutionary martyrs came from there."

The short guy let out a long sigh, "Well, it's true that your hometown did make a great contribution to the foundation of the republic, but, eh, you can't just break the law at will. For your hometown's sake, we'll fine you 30,000 yuan and be done with it. Prepare the money and we'll pick it up at three this afternoon. Otherwise, we'll have no choice but to pass your case to the police. I don't think they'll care about whether you come from an old revolutionary base or not."

The short guy then left, but the tall guy took two steps before turning to Degui and saying in a low voice, "Just accept it, old friend; they'll give you hell at the police station. See you at three!"

Degui collapsed in his chair. Thirty thousand yuan! Where could he get 30,000 yuan? He had 20,000 yuan in the bank, which was money he had earnt by working day and night for two years, and which he couldn't bear to spend before. He had planned to work for a few more years and then use the money to build a house back in his hometown. But now he had to withdraw the lot so as not to be sent to the police, and he was still 10,000 yuan short. He would have to borrow from his friends from back home, and tell them that he needed the money to purchase some finishing materials.

Shortly after three o' clock that afternoon, a car horn blared outside, and the two men strolled in. Degui handed them the cash as soon as they stepped in through the door, and said, "Here's the 30,000 yuan, you can count it."

The tall guy tucked the cash into his briefcase, "You are a sensible man, worthy of your hometown's name after all. If you had been handed over to the police, you would have ended up in a court of law, and would probably have been sentenced to a few years in prison. You're lucky. Anything else to add, Commissioner Liu?"

The short guy came over to console Degui, "If you really want to open up a company, come and register it in our bureau. If you have any problems then don't hesitate to come and find me. After all, you are from Hong'an."

Degui expressed a thousand thanks, and saw the two of them off as they left in their car.

Back in the house, Degui walked back and forth restlessly. He blamed himself for being stupid and powerless… then suddenly he felt that something was wrong… things didn't add up. How come he had just paid a 30,000-yuan fine without getting a receipt? How did they decide so casually how much he should pay? And surely fines are always fixed sums? He'd been conned! Realizing this, Degui's face paled, and beads of sweat began trickling down his forehead… he felt sick.

Worried, Degui hurried down to the Haidian Commercial and Industrial Bureau to ask if a Commissioner Liu and a Chief Wang were employed there. People there asked him to specify which office or department he was inquiring about, but he couldn't answer. Degui was worried that after being cheated out of 30,000 yuan by fake officials, he might risk being fined another 20,000 by the real ones.

"Every penny of it was earned by hard work!" Degui put his foot down and closed the company. He then got seriously ill and didn't recover for a couple of years…

Zhang Degui's case is not unique. Many migrant workers have experienced discrimination, fraud and blackmail. Some say that they are like a piece of hot tofu just out of the boiling pot, that everyone wants to get their chopsticks into…

I asked Degui, "Is this Weimin Decorating Company registered at the Commercial and Industrial Bureau?"

Degui said eagerly, "Of course, of course. I wouldn't want to go through that again."

Degui went back to his story. He was once again working alone. Fortunately, thanks to his good service, he had established a trusted reputation as well as a large number of contacts, so he didn't have to worry about finding work. By 2007, Degui finally got over what had happened to him. Unwilling to give up, he registered "Weimin Decorating Company" at the Bureau of Commerce and Industry. By then restrictions were loosening and it was much easier to open up a company. Even though his was only a small scale labor contractor, it sufficed that he was at the head of his own business, and he was perfectly content.

We talked about his son Xiaoqiang and I asked him why he wouldn't let Xiaoqiang help him with the business.

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