In Dongguan, my youth is priced
Introduction:
In 1998, I was sixteen years old, and my youth had a clear price tag.
Assembly line: Daily salary is 20 yuan.
My name is Jiang Chen, and I measure my days and nights on the assembly line with my hands covered with blood blisters. Here, every light bulb shines at the expense of a moment of dimness in my youth.
Brotherly loyalty: worth 130 yuan.
Fa Xiao Jiang Feng used the 130 seconds he spent embarrassingly on the salon girl to sign the first depraved bill for our innocent brotherhood.
The awe of the underworld: the price is unknown, or it may need to be paid with your life.
The machetes of "He Yi Tang" are the hardest currency in this land. They taught me that here, you either kneel to make money or lie down to bleed.
The heartbeat of first love: expensive, I can't afford it.
HR Manager Zhong Qing's ankle-length hair is the only poem in my gray world. But with my daily salary of 20 yuan, even treating her to a bottle of soda seemed like a luxurious transgression.
In Dongguan, everything has a price tag, including my body, dignity and future.
When the brothers lose the last line at the gambling table, when the gentle countryside turns into a carefully woven trap, when the blood is ignited by bullying...
I, Jiang Chen, am no longer a passive commodity for sale.
I will use my own way to pay for this priced youth,
Reprice!
——This is the survival record of a generation, a bloody coming-of-age ceremony for a young man.
