"I was born in Beijing. My father came here as an engineer, married my mother, and here I am. Strictly speaking, I am the offspring of a civilian worker who never cultivated land. After I came back from France, my mother told me that there were two civilian workers who died from falling off of a building when they were painting the outside wall. This was the third accident of our residence community. The developers believed it was a curse, so they lit several firecrackers around the building and gave everyone sixty thousand renminbi as compensation. I don’t know the workers' moods while listening to the sound of the bursting firecrackers; I don't know what it is like to experience such an event. However, the workers continued on with a smile, being sent to work just like bricks that are sent anywhere needed.

Then came the peace we had been waiting for. It is rare to see military soldiers wearing helmets anymore. Instead, we see the civilian workers wearing plastic helmets. There are often reports that the plastic helmets are no better than a helmet made of paper. Perhaps the helmet is only the symbol that separates civilian workers from others. It is a representation of their fate and identity.

In the Qin dynasty, the artisans who created the terracotta warriors sacrificed their lives in order to consecrate their era. I printed these migrant workers, the modern city's toiling soldiers, on bricks as a display for us in hopes of consecrating our great period in time."

by artist