Zuo Daya glanced at her young daughter and knew at once this was her girl's doing. 'Sigh, my daughter is still so young,' she thought. 'She doesn't know how to hold back in a fight.' Of course, her mother was hardly one to talk—Yuan Si looked at the scratched-up face and neck of Li Renzhong's wife, where a bloody welt was still oozing. 'We're two of a kind, aren't we?' Sizing up the situation, Zuo Daya decided she absolutely could not let this mother and son pin the blame on her family. Her eyes darted, and she plopped herself right onto the ground, starting to wail and wipe away tears.
"Oh, my heavens! I can't go on living! Trouble just falls from the sky even when good people stay home! Who did we, a widow and an orphan, ever provoke? We were just quietly living our lives, and someone comes barging in to attack us! You're just bullying us because my husband died young...
