“Why, we are the crushers,” Wen said with a laugh. “We feed the mined ore into the primary rockcrushers. They’re as big as a house and can mash a boulder the size of a dog down to this.” He balled his fist in front of Zhou.

“I come from Baotou,” Zhou said, “and am in need of work. Are there any jobs available at the mine?”

Wen reached over and squeezed Zhou’s arm. “A man like you? You are too scrawny to work in the mines.” He laughed, spraying a shower of saliva across the table. Then noting a sad look on Zhou’s face, he felt a touch of pity. “Men get injured, so they occasionally bring on replacements. But there will probably be a long line ahead of you.”

“I understand,” Zhou said. “More baijiu?”

He didn’t wait for an answer and refilled their glasses. The silent miner, Yao, peered at him through listless eyes and nodded. Wen raised his glass and downed a shot.

“Tell me,” Zhou said as he sipped at his drink. “I hear there is a black market mining operation at Bayan Obo.”

Yao tensed and looked at Zhou suspiciously.

“No, it all comes from the same place.” Wen wiped his mouth with a sleeve.

“It is not safe to speak of,” Yao said, breaking his silence with an earthy bellow.

Wen shrugged. “It all takes place beyond us.”

“What do you mean?” Zhou asked.

“The blasting, the digging, the crushing, that is all performed by the state operation that pays Yao and me,” he said. “It’s only after the crushing that other hands start dipping into the pot.”

“What hands are those?”

Yao slammed his glass down on the table. “You ask a lot of questions, Tsen.”

Zhou bowed slightly to Yao. “I’m just trying to find myself a job.”

“Yao’s just touchy because his cousin drives a truck for the operation.”

“How do they operate?”

“I guess they’re paying off some of the mine’s truck drivers,” Wen said. “At night, some of the trucks that haul the raw diggings to the crusher pick up a load of crushed ore and deposit it at a remote part of the mine. Then Jiang and his private fleet of trucks come in and haul it away. Hey, there he is now.” Wen waved over a squat, grit-faced man who had just stepped into the bar. The man moved with a determined swagger.

“Jiang, I was just telling my friend how you haul hot rocks from the mine.”

Jiang flung an open hand against the side of Wen’s head, nearly knocking him out of his chair. “You need to quit your babbling, Wen, or you’ll lose your tongue. You’re worse than an old woman.” He sized Zhou up, then regarded his cousin Yao. The big man faintly shook his head.