Three Years on the Construction Site, and Now I Hear the Building Cry

After three years working construction, I got laid off.

My ex-girlfriend said, "Zhou Yan, you're just a construction worker. What can you give me?"

The day I started delivering food, I passed a building I'd helped build and heard it crying.

Only later did I learn that this building really could talk.

Who stole the rebar, who stole the concrete, who skimped on a third of the material in the floor slabs: I could tell with one listen.

Specially appointed expert for the Education Bureau? Specially appointed expert for the Municipal Metro Group? The youngest senior engineer at twenty-seven?

Those were just extras.

I just didn't want to hear it again: something was trembling underground.