"We... should find some other line of work. There must be something else we can do," Zhang Jing'an said miserably.
Fang Yun said, "The porters at the docks and relay stations only hire people sixteen and older. You don't qualify. The workshops only want skilled workers. You have no experience, so you can't do that either. As for starting a small business, you can't even make wontons. And even if you could, would yours taste better than anyone else's? Without a single skill to your name, where do you find the courage to say that?"
Fang Yun looked down at Zhang Jing'an, his gaze seemingly colder than the winter wind.
"I..."
Fang Yun said, "It's all right. You can keep going hungry, and I can keep looking with you. You're very lucky. You're neither sick nor struck by disaster, you have no one to support, and no one at home needs you to save their life."
The rumbling in Zhang Jing'an's stomach grew louder.
"I'll do it!" Zhang Jing'an said through clenched teeth.
"Good. Let's go now. If we're late, someone else might beat us to it." Fang Yun immediately found the broker, paid a hundred copper coins, took a slip bearing the refuse contractor's address, and headed outside.
"We each owe half of those hundred copper coins. From now on, you'll repay me two copper coins a day until your debt is cleared," Fang Yun said.
"Stingy!" Zhang Jing'an muttered.
Braving the wind and snow, the two hurried to Xinming Street. In an old house, they met the refuse contractor responsible for the area and learned why he was hiring.
Winter was different from the other seasons. In the freezing cold, people already worked more slowly, and much of the refuse froze solid, making it extremely difficult to handle.