In the empty crematorium, the air was scented with the sweet aroma of bones and the low and continuous murmur of self-talk intertwined together.
It was like a loving father gently coaxing a timid infant into his embrace, cooing him to call him "Daddy."
The scene was filled with heart-wrenching love and strangeness.
Yet the timid infant remained silent, as if dead, testing the patience and wisdom of fatherhood.
Question:
How do you teach an infant to obey the father's commands?
Feng Mu slightly raised one eyebrow, his tone revealing warmth and concern:
"This feast was almost entirely fed into your stomach, see how well I have raised you, so you must learn to be grateful and obedient, understand?"
Feng Mu paused for a moment, his voice turning a little colder:
"Only obedient children get to eat, disobedient ones won't get the next big meal~"
Feng Mu's method was—to wean the infant.
His educational philosophy worked because a weak word floated on the retina—[Hungry!]
