"Did you and your little brother have dinner?" Yang Chuxia asked as she approached.
"I ate, but little brother didn’t."
Yang Chuxia paused at this revelation, "Why didn’t little brother eat?"
"He was angry," Lele explained.
Little Yangyang had cried for a long ti that afternoon. At first, the crying was feigned, a ploy to catch his parents’ attention, but it soon turned into genuine tears streaming down his cheeks. Even when it was ti for dinner, Mingcui couldn’t coax him to eat.
Ye Zi’an’s eyebrows shot up, "Is he staging a hunger strike? Xiaxia, are you sure we have a son, not a daughter?"
"I also think he might be a fake son," Yang Chuxia agreed wholeheartedly, nodding deeply. He loves to be coddled, cries, and when he’s upset, he refuses to eat. Oh heavens, these are all things a little daughter would do!
"Little brother is a boy," Lele defended Yangyang from her father’s arms.
Ye Zi’an said nothing in response.
Entering the room, they saw Yangyang sitting to one side, playing with his little bird and the paper airplane Yang Chuxia had folded for him a few days earlier.
When he saw Ye Zi’an and Yang Chuxia co in, his little head twisted away, and he humd twice. It was clear; the baby was angry now.
Yang Chuxia and Ye Zi’an exchanged a glance, spotting a hint of amusent in each other’s eyes.
Nevertheless, both agreed not to comfort their son first, deliberately ignoring the little child’s tantrum.
"Mingcui, bring the food over. The young master and I haven’t eaten yet."
"Yes, madam, it has already been prepared. I will bring it right away."
Seeing his parents ignoring him, Little Yangyang pouted silently and continued to play with his toys, occasionally glancing at his parents sitting by the table. When he noticed his mother looking at him, he imdiately turned his head away, causing Yang Chuxia to stifle a laugh.
After Mingcui had set the table, Yang Chuxia and Ye Zi’an began to eat, still ignoring the little rascal.
"Try this; the braised tofu today is really good," Yang Chuxia ladled so tofu for Ye Zi’an.
"Indeed it is, smooth and tender. Xiaxia, try this wine-marinated duck, it also tastes great."
"Daddy, I want to drink soup," Lele suddenly said, watching the two eat so delightfully.
"Okay, daddy will get you so."
The dinner table was filled with Yang Chuxia saying this dish was delicious, then Ye Zi’an praising another dish, with Lele chiming in from ti to ti wanting a bit of this and that.
This made Little Yangyang feel as though his stomach was truly hungry – very hungry. He looked around and saw no one paying him any attention, which infuriated him. He threw everything in front of him aside and stomped over to the table, glaring at both adults, "Little master wants to eat!"
"Pfft..." Yang Chuxia nearly spit out her food.
Ye Zi’an stared straight at him, "Little master?"
"Little master wants to eat, little master wants to eat!"
He shouted and shouted, hands on his hips, exuding an air of bossiness.
"Son, who did you learn this from? It would be cuter if you just called yourself ’baby’," Yang Chuxia pondered and reached to pat his head, but he dodged her touch.
Ye Zi’an chuckled, "Weren’t you the one who was refusing to eat because you were angry?"
Yangyang ignored him and struggled onto the chair, grabbed his little spoon, and began to eat ravenously. When he saw Ye Zi’an about to pick up sothing with his chopsticks, he used his own fork to compete with Ye Zi’an.
His actions conveyed that he might be angry, but he still needed to eat.
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