I have been selling pork in the vegetable market for 20 years. Everyone is afraid of me because I am cruel and keep a straight face to everyone. Ten years ago, a little girl as thin as a bean sprout started stealing my meat every day. I didn't say anything, and the neighbors said I was stupid for being stolen. It's 4:30 in the morning, and the iron door of the vegetable market makes a harsh creaking sound, like a yawning giant beast, spitting out turbid air mixed with fish, soil and animal blood. My name is Zhang Guodong, and they all call me Mr. Zhang here.
