"Did you and your little brother have dinner?" Yang Chuxia asked as she approached.
"I ate, but little brother didnāt."
Yang Chuxia paused at this revelation, "Why didnāt little brother eat?"
"He was angry," Lele explained.
Little Yangyang had cried for a long time that afternoon. At first, the crying was feigned, a ploy to catch his parentsā attention, but it soon turned into genuine tears streaming down his cheeks. Even when it was time for dinner, Mingcui couldnāt coax him to eat.
Ye Ziāanās 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 heās 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 fatherās arms.
Ye Ziāan 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 Ziāan and Yang Chuxia come in, his little head twisted away, and he hummed twice. It was clear; the baby was angry now.
Yang Chuxia and Ye Ziāan exchanged a glance, spotting a hint of amusement in each otherās eyes.
Nevertheless, both agreed not to comfort their son first, deliberately ignoring the little childās tantrum.
"Mingcui, bring the food over. The young master and I havenāt 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 immediately turned his head away, causing Yang Chuxia to stifle a laugh.
After Mingcui had set the table, Yang Chuxia and Ye Ziāan began to eat, still ignoring the little rascal.
"Try this; the braised tofu today is really good," Yang Chuxia ladled some tofu for Ye Ziāan.
"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 some."
The dinner table was filled with Yang Chuxia saying this dish was delicious, then Ye Ziāan praising another dish, with Lele chiming in from time to time wanting a bit of this and that.
This made Little Yangyang feel as though his stomach was truly hungry ā 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 Ziāan 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 ābabyā," Yang Chuxia pondered and reached to pat his head, but he dodged her touch.
Ye Ziāan chuckled, "Werenāt 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 Ziāan about to pick up something with his chopsticks, he used his own fork to compete with Ye Ziāan.
His actions conveyed that he might be angry, but he still needed to eat.