Tang Chuxia looked over, and saw an infant in a thin cloth, lifeless.
The little baby's body was a ghastly pale with purplish bruises, and the waxy birth coating still on its forehead.
This child had somehow been saved and brought into the world, but only a few hours had passed?
And now he was gone?
It was too tragic!
Tang Chuxia felt very angry.
The new mother, probably being too weak, could only hold a knife to the old granny's throat.
"How did my child die?"
She clenched her teeth, her eyes red, indifferent to her physical discomfort, she only wanted to know how the child she had fought to birth had died.
Tang Chuxia looked at the child, then at the old woman who was trembling with fear under the knife, having wet herself from fright.
Sometimes it was truly incomprehensible, they were all women, why couldn't they understand each other?
The mother's husband was over there, hopping around and shouting threats, but Tang Chuxia kicked him to his knees.
