The little brat wasn't crying or fussing, just staring wide-eyed at all the demons and ghosts filling the room. After watching for a while, who knows how this little guy, at such a young age, could even see the graffiti hanging several meters up on the wall—drool started running down from the corner of his mouth.
Normally, at this age, anything more than a meter away should all blur together into people and animals for them.
Wen Yan picked up the little brat, who immediately started wailing at the top of his lungs, crying for ages, but not a single tear came from the corners of his eyes—it all ran straight out of his mouth instead.
Wen Yan gently patted the little brat on the butt.
"You're too young, can't eat solid food yet—just drink your milk nicely, got it."
He carried the little brat out of the yard. As soon as the child realized it wasn't working, he instantly stopped crying, his big eyes still longing for the inside of the house.
