Song Rongquan's face hardened. "You don't understand what it's like," he said, his voice edging higher. "I'm doing everything I can. Do you think it's easy raising five children alone? I have to look presentable to find work. I have to eat if I'm going to have the energy to provide—"
"Provide what, exactly?" Guiying cut in. "What have you provided them?" His voice didn't rise, but it filled the room. "You cut your stomach open five times. Those scars are probably permanent. You went through five pregnancies, five births, and this is the life you chose for them? Why have them if you weren't ready to give them the best you could offer and more?"
