"Erbao and Zhou Dayong had just met, but they hit it off right away:
"You're not from around here, are you?"
"No, I'm not. I used to work with a foreman, everyone called him 'Boss.' He was a decent guy. He said he needed more people this time, asked us if we were willing to come make money for a couple of months, so I came."
He chuckled heartily, his face full of anticipation:
"Working like this for two months, I can go home when it gets cold, it doesn't delay the New Year, and I can make a good sum of money…"
The road worker was stunned for a moment: "But isn't this the road leading to the village?"
He glanced at the only road: "Building houses for the village, and they still need to recruit people from outside?"
"You say that…" the man prone to car sickness wasn't pleased:
"Aren't you also from outside? Everyone has gone out to work, how many locals are there?"
That was true, and the road worker across couldn't say anything back.
