Qin Haoran stood on the bed of a rusted flatbed truck outside the southern toll gate of Tianhai.
The cold autumn wind whipped his fluorescent yellow vest against his ribs.
In front of him sat an unlicensed iron-wire cargo truck from the northern hills.
Inside the stacked cages, eighty soaked, shivering dogs of every shape and breed whimpered in the dark.
The truck driver was a rough man with yellow teeth, holding a wooden club.
“Two hundred thousand in cash?” the driver asked, staring at the thick stack of bills in Qin Haoran’s hands. “You want all eighty mutts? Most of them are strays from construction sites.”
“Shut up and take the cash,” Qin Haoran snapped, throwing the envelope into the cab. “Unlock every single cage right now.”
The driver counted the bills eagerly and yanked the rusted steel bolts.
