The child in her arms, with bare, red flesh and no skin, soaked all over, red and tender with a shine, cried weakly as he was held in her arms.
No wonder the old woman thought this child was a ghost; born at the darkest hour, looking terrifyingly skinless at birth, in the ignorant minds of foolish women, a child with no skin must be a ghost!
But in truth, he was just a sickly premature baby.
"You, who are you? Throw that ghost thing over here!" The old woman said nastily, "When this ghost grows into something, it's going to drag our whole family to death, isn't it?"
Teng Zhao came over, glanced at the child, and said solemnly, "He's not a ghost."
"What do you know, you little brat? Born without skin, if he's not a ghost, then what is he? What kind of person doesn't have skin?"
Qin Liuxi coldly glanced over: "He's just sick because he wasn't fully gestated."
