Chapter 370 Baby Girl

When the eighth generation witch returned home, the sun had already completely appeared beyond the horizon. There was smoke from cooking in the tribe, and people were unaware of the danger that occurred last night.

When he opened the door, he immediately smelled the fragrance of fish. A woman with tied hair came out, looked at him with some reproach, and then stepped forward to take the staff from his hand.

"Why didn't you tell me that you didn't come back last night?"

The eighth generation witch listened to his reproach, smiled foolishly, handed over the staff, and walked into the inner room.

There was a basket hanging in the middle of the inner room, and a baby girl was lying in the basket.

The baby girl was lying on her side, with her left foot crossing in front of her right foot, the sole of her foot against the basket, her left fist under the left corner of her eye, and her right fist against her face.

Hearing the sound of the Eighth Generation Shaman coming in, the baby girl reacted with a startled reaction, with her arms and hands spread out, as if she wanted to catch something.

The Eighth Generation Shaman immediately stepped forward, stretched out his hands, carefully grabbed the baby girl's hands, and comforted her.

"Woo woo."

The baby girl called twice, and then fell asleep peacefully again.

At this time, a woman not far from the baby girl opened her eyes and saw the Eighth Generation Shaman hurriedly stood up.

"It's okay, you take a rest, I just want to see the child."

The Eighth Generation Shaman smiled at her and set his eyes on the girl again.

This is his child, but not his biological child.

For some unknown reason, he and his wife have been married for several years, but his wife has never been pregnant, so he does not have his own children.

He picked up this baby girl from the sea a month ago. To be more precise, she was picked up by someone else and he adopted her.

That day, there were loud noises coming from the sea, which frightened the people of the Fire Tribe and made them look towards the sea. The eighth-generation witch specially sent people to check, and later the team sent out to explore brought this child back.

According to the description of those people, this child floated over from the sea in a basket.

At first, the eighth-generation witch was very confused. How could it be possible for

a child to float over when the sea had been frozen for many years? Later, the warriors explained that the ice on the sea seemed to have been split by a crack, and the child drifted along that crack and was picked up by them.

"There are no beasts in the sea?"

The eighth-generation witch asked in surprise.

"Yes, when we were trying to get the child, they attacked us. We had no choice but to tie a rope to the stone spear and pierce the stone spear into the basket to pull the child over."

When the warrior said this, there was still a lingering fear in his eyes. It must have been very dangerous at the time.

A strange child entered the Fire Tribe in such a magical way. It was inevitable for the eighth-generation witch to pay attention, but there was no need to raise the child himself.

At first, he did give the child to a family for adoption, but that night, he kept thinking back to the time when the child opened his eyes and looked at him with pure eyes.

So the eighth-generation witch took the child back overnight, and his wife did not object to this. She even cared about the child as much as the eighth-generation witch.

The woman in the room was the child's

wet nurse. After all, the child was young and needed milk, but the two of them didn't have it, so the eighth-generation witch asked someone to help. With his status, it was not difficult to ask a woman with milk to come to his home to take care of the child.

"Woo woo."

The child made a sound, stretched his waist, and his eyes slowly opened.

The eighth-generation witch looked up at the woman in the room.

"She has slept for a while, and she should wake up."

The eighth-generation witch nodded and tucked the animal skin on the girl.

"Do you want to eat out or eat in the house?"

The figure of his wife appeared at the door, and she asked with her head tilted.

"Go out."

The eighth-generation witch responded, and then reached out and touched the child's cheek, and then reluctantly started to walk out of the room.

The meal was frozen fish, and the staple food was indeed millet, which was rare in the family.

The eighth-generation witch looked up at his wife in surprise, and his wife smiled: "I know you have been working hard all night, so I made it especially for you."

"Thank you."

The eighth-generation witch looked at his wife with love in his eyes.

Although they could not have children, the relationship between husband and wife was very good.

His wife smiled and said nothing, but asked him to eat quickly, because the millet would not taste good if it was cold.

The eighth-generation witch liked to eat millet very much. This soft and granular thing made him feel that his whole mouth was filled with a fresh taste when he ate it, which made him very comfortable.

He was eating in the outer room, and the baby girl in the inner room had woken up. Before she could cry, the wet nurse came forward to feed her.

Without waiting for the baby girl to finish her meal, the Eighth-generation witch had already finished his meal and quickly went back into the house, looking at the baby girl who was breastfeeding.

The baby girl had used up all her strength because of breastfeeding, and her little face was flushed. At this time, a birthmark would appear on her forehead.

The birthmark was triangular in shape, with three vertical lines in the middle, two of which were longer and rounder, and the middle one was very short.

Such a symmetrical totem had obvious rules, and the Eighth-generation witch thought it was related to the baby girl's life experience.

At first, he was a little worried that the girl was not from the Fire Tribe and that he would not be able to adopt her well.

When he told his wife about this idea, the Eighth-generation witch's wife did not think so.

"The Fire Tribe was originally a small tribe of a dozen people. It is impossible for it to grow to this size through generations of reproduction. There are many foreigners among them. She is still a baby. As long as she grows up and we don't tell her, what will she remember?"

After hearing his wife's words, the eighth generation witch felt relieved and threw himself on the adopted baby girl.

If it weren't for the incident in the jungle, he would have wanted to stay here day and night and not be separated from his daughter.

His wife was not jealous of this, and was even very happy for the Eighth Generation Wu, because she knew very early that the Eighth Generation Wu wanted a child.

Whenever he thought of his wife's understanding, the Eighth Generation Wu could not help but thank his considerate wife.

"I'm done eating."

The woman who was feeding the baby spoke, interrupting the Eighth Generation Wu's thoughts.

He hurriedly took the child and saw the child open her eyes and look at him. There was a hint of smile on her chubby little face, and there was a small dimple on the left corner of her mouth.

After having fun with the child for a while, he felt that the tiredness of last night was much better.

The baby girl gradually became a little sleepy, so he put the child in the hanging basket and walked out quietly.

"Is there a situation in the jungle?"

His wife asked straight to the point when she saw him coming out.

"The fierce mantis appeared, and the warriors are very nervous."

The Eighth Generation Wu told the truth.

The wife nodded and said, "Are you sure you don't want to ask the leader

of the Sound Tribe for help?" There are not many leaders left in the Fire Tribe. Those who have a good relationship with the Eighth Generation Shaman and have certain abilities, including the leader of the Sound Tribe.

But when the Sound Shaman left, he specifically asked the Eighth Generation Shaman to help take care of the Sound Tribe. If the leader of the Sound Tribe goes to the battlefield, the warriors of the Sound Tribe must follow.

If the Sound Tribe loses personnel because of this battle, the Eighth Generation Shaman will feel very guilty.

Seeing that her husband was still hesitant, the Eighth Generation Shaman's wife persuaded him, "You need a leader with ruling power, not the ones you have now. He is very important to you."

The Eighth Generation Shaman nodded, understanding what his wife meant.

"I'll think about it."

In the end, the Eighth Generation Shaman still did not agree immediately. He really didn't want the Sound Tribe, which had just developed, to bear such a big responsibility.