Xue Yue walked closer and saw Li Gaihua arguing with an old woman. He Daqiang stood to the side with a grim face, not saying a word.
Li Gaihua wiped her tears as she protested, "Mother, when the family split, we clearly agreed on providing 10 jin of coarse grain a month for you and Father. That's 120 jin a year. How did that suddenly become fine grain?"
Zhao Xiantao spat in Li Gaihua's direction and insisted, "It was always fine grain. You must have misheard."
Besides, no written agreement was made when the family split. If she said it was fine grain, it was fine grain.
Li Gaihua said, "Da Qiang and I only get a little over a hundred jin of fine grain for the whole year, and we have a child to raise. If we give it all to you, what will we eat?"
