The "trash pickers" had been bending over to pick up bottles for a long time, running far off, before they finally, sweating all over, managed to gather twelve bottles of soda, twelve bottles of cocktails, and one big bottle of soy milk drink.
Cheng Zhirang held the toy bulldozer's bucket, scooping a fallen can of soda off the ground into the tricycle's bed. Looking at the bottles piled inside like scrap, all higgledy-piggledy, he even used the bucket to nudge them around while counting.
The toy bulldozer had already come apart from its base; he grabbed the bucket like he was holding a pair of chopsticks, shoveling the cocktail glass bottles mixed in with the sodas off to one side.
"Twelve bottles of soda, twelve bottles of cocktails, one bottle of soy milk, the numbers match. But the cocktail glass bottles can't just be left loose in the bed, we need a bag to carry them. Best to secure the sodas too."
Mu Qiu donated the flower-patterned headscarf she'd kept.
