The innkeeper's wife held her child and took a small knife from the familiar drawer in front of her.
Then she used the blade to cut the child's finger.
The child didn't seem to feel any pain, and neither cried nor shouted, just kept his eyes wide open.
The innkeeper's wife held the child's finger and let the scarlet blood drip onto the statue of the Ghost.
The blood was quickly absorbed by the statue.
This method uses the soul of an infant to nourish the Ghost.
Mo Lin shook his head as he watched.
This infant won't live much longer.
Definitely won't live to eighteen.
"Is this your biological child?" Mo Lin asked the innkeeper's wife.
"He is indeed my son." The innkeeper's wife confidently replied to Mo Lin.
Mo Lin smiled regretfully; it was his first time seeing someone sacrifice their own child.
The tiger does not eat its cubs.
But that saying doesn't hold any meaning here.
Mo Lin didn't want to meddle.
