Of course, this profit is calculated based on the amount given to a state-run scrap collection station. If it is sold directly to a printing factory or a steel factory, the profit will be a few cents more.

It's a pity that people probably don't like this amount. Only when they are collected to a certain weight and sent over, will the factory accept it.

The problem is that Song Wenjing's capital is only about 40 yuan, and he has used more than ten yuan today. The remaining part can only be collected two or three times as much as today.

Old newspapers, books, etc., may end up receiving several hundred kilograms. It is estimated that if they are sold to a printing factory, they will still receive it.

As for the scrap iron and toothpaste rinds, they are just a little bit, and I guess people will not take care of them. They can only put them at home first, and when there are more in the future, we can pull them over together.

In order to appease his parents, Song Wenjing gave them a report on the day's harvest during dinner that night.

Sure enough, when he told his family that he could earn two yuan today, Zhou Lijuan immediately beamed. The unlucky look on her face before was wiped away.

Their day's work points only cost a few cents. Even so, they can't do it every day. They only earn that work point when the village needs it.

But her son could actually earn so much in one day. Even if someone was ridiculing and making irresponsible remarks today, she wouldn't care.

In the 1980s, the rural areas were really poor. They wished they could spend a penny in half. They would not be able to part with a piece of tofu or a venetian leaf that cost 10 cents, let alone eat meat. Meat, that is simply...

Synonymous with luxury goods.

I am happy, but the bitterness in my heart also exists.

Their son had just graduated from high school and had never experienced any hardship before. Suddenly, when he was asked to experience this hardship and the cynicism that followed, Song Jianguo and his wife still felt mixed emotions.

However, the two of them really had no other way to help Song Wenjing, so they could only let it go.

Song Wenjing could completely understand his parents' feelings. He also knew that it was not easy for his family to support him until he graduated from high school. Now he was doing the business of collecting rags, which was a bit of a loss to their face.

But in such an era, it is not that easy to do something. Especially when you have no power and little capital. Song Wenjing is not a god, so he can do all kinds of tricks.

.

Everything needs to be accumulated step by step. He, Song Wenjing, never thought about continuing to work as a rag collector for the rest of his life. It was just that the situation forced him to do nothing.

After the meal, Song Wenjing took a shower early, tidied up, and then lay directly on the bed.

My current body has not experienced too many hardships. Today I walked all day and pulled a cart weighing one to two hundred kilograms, which made me really tired.

Especially when I have been shouting for a whole day and rarely stop, it feels like smoke is coming out of my throat.

It is very deserted at night in the countryside. There is no electricity in the village, and most families are reluctant to light kerosene lamps all the time. Most families spread out mats, light smoke at the door, and then the family sits outside, fanning themselves.

fan, chatting about the family's shortcomings.

Early the next morning, Song Wenjing got up very early after sleeping for nearly ten hours.

He doesn't plan to continue wandering around the village today. He has collected most of the rags available in Songjia Village for the time being. Even if there is some, people may not be willing to sell it to him.

He is not the only one in this business. Every few days, there is always someone in the village calling him.

Next door, Wangzhuang is a big village. It covers an area and has a much larger population than Songjia Village. According to yesterday's pace, if we don't start early, we may not be able to visit the entire village in one day.

Therefore, at around six o'clock, Song Wenjing had already finished his corn porridge, pulled up the cart and was ready to set off.

"We collect scrap iron, copper, aluminum, newspapers, magazines and old books!"

A loud and slightly hoarse voice sounded in the village of Wangzhuang. It was Song Wenjing who started his day of shouting.

After about ten minutes, someone finally shouted at the top of his voice: "Collect rags, come here, I have something at home."

When business came to the door, Song Wenjing smiled quickly and pulled the cart over.

The first business of the day was pretty good. A middle-aged man actually pulled out a tattered tractor tailgate. Judging from the posture, it weighed at least twenty or thirty kilograms. I don’t know if it was his own, or whether it was his own.

Where did I pick it up?

"How much does it cost per pound?" the middle-aged man asked directly without much nonsense.

"Uncle, we are all selling at the market price, one cent per pound." Song Wenjing answered with a smile.

The middle-aged man pretended to be angry and said: "Others are only paid ten cents a pound, how come you, a young man, are only paid ten cents a pound? It's so dishonest."

Song Wenjing was considered a veteran, so he didn't know that the other party was just deliberately raising the price. The state-owned scrap station in the city only charged 12.1 kilograms of this kind of pig iron. How could someone directly quote 12.00 cents? Wouldn't there be no profit at all?

, and it will also delay some labor.

Even if the quantity is larger, if it is sent to a steel factory or a manufacturer that produces pots, basins, etc., the price will be only 14 cents at most, and more likely to be 13 cents.

When the other party said this, it was obvious that he was deceiving him because he was young.

This is indeed the case. Two junk collectors came over before, and their quotes were either 9 cents per catty or 10 cents per catty. There was no quote above 10 cents at all.

Song Wenjing was already prepared. He took out a pack of Jiaxiu cigarettes from his pants pocket, pulled out one and handed it over, "Uncle, I won't lie to you. If we sell them in the market, it will cost only ten cents at most."

Twenty-one kilograms, sometimes even only ten cents. I only earn two or three cents from this piece of scrap metal, and I have to haul it from here to the city."

The middle-aged man looked at Song Wenjing in surprise. This was the first time he saw a rag collector giving out cigarettes to people. Although Jiaxiu cigarettes only cost 30 cents a pack, rural people also smoked them regularly.

A cigarette cost only a little more than a penny, but it brought the two of them closer together.

The middle-aged man did not continue to bargain, but nodded, "Young man, how many pounds can you weigh, and I won't bother to find anyone else, so I will sell it to you."

In fact, how could he not know how much this piece of scrap metal weighed? He had already weighed it several times. He just wanted to see if this young man was really that honest.

Song Wenjing didn't waste any time, picked up the scale from the trolley and weighed it.

"Twenty-three pounds and eight taels, uncle, let me give you twenty-four pounds, a total of two dollars and four, what do you think?" Song Wenjing said cheerfully.

The middle-aged man nodded secretly. The young man was indeed quite honest. He was not short of weight, and even the scale beam was high. He weighed himself at home, and the calculation was based on twenty-three pounds and seven ounces. Even the rag collector in front of him,

We weighed him twenty-three and a half kilograms.

Although it was only a matter of a few cents, at least this young man was honest enough.

"Okay, I'll do as you say. Young man, wait a minute. The two children in the house next door to us have just graduated. There are a lot of old books and other things in the house. Let me go and ask for you. Do they still have them?

It needs to be sold." The middle-aged man pointed at the house next door and said at the same time.

Of course, Song Wenjing was eager to take the initiative to introduce business and quickly agreed.

After he collected the money for the scrap metal and loaded it onto the cart, after a while, the old man came over with an aunt.

"How much do you charge per pound for old books and newspapers?" The aunt came over and asked directly without talking nonsense.

It is estimated that the middle-aged man just said something to her. After Song Wenjing reported 6 cents per pound, she took Song Wenjing home and asked him to help move it together.

Song Wenjing didn't want it, so of course he followed him.

Not to mention, my aunt’s house has a lot of old books and newspapers, weighing thirty to forty kilograms. There is even a scroll in it, which looks like some kind of painting, but it is a bit worn out and has some tears at the corners.

Song Wenjing calmly packed all the things, weighed them directly, paid the money without hesitation, said a few words of thanks, and left the house.
Chapter completed!