Su Jinlai stayed silent.
Zhuang Zhixi continued, "Then ask that little girl what she eats at home. Her family eats mixed-grain buns during the New Year. When you were seven or eight, you didn't live like that, did you? But for her, that's normal. Don't forget, there's over a decade between your childhood and hers. Even now, her life hasn't caught up to yours from back then. Being born here, with a family that has a worker and a house, is already better than most people's lives. Don't keep thinking you're poor—there are plenty of people worse off than you. Your life is already pretty good."
He finished speaking, stood up, and patted Su Jinlai on the shoulder, saying, "Think it over yourself. I'm going to bed. I'm such a good person, staying up late to guide someone lost in the night."
"Don't go. Uncle Zhuang, don't leave."
Su Jinlai grabbed Zhuang Zhixi's arm. Zhuang Zhixi: "..."
He said, "Help me think about it. What should I do?"
