“Where is she? Where did that little demon run off to?!” Yang Yulong’s aggravated voice rang down the hallway as he stormed towards the dressing room with empty plates that had smudges of icing.

Yang Wenxu didn’t take the threatening tone lightly as his face darkened, similar to his father. Despite his constant chiding towards Yang Rina, he was too overprotective to let anything harmful touch her.

“What did she do this time?” Zhao Lifei spoke up, chuckling when she saw it was more than just one plate. Two plates were stacked on top of each other, balanced on both hands.

“That, that glutton! She ate all of the small slices of cake reserved for me. Look at this!” Yang Yulong huffed, “Not even a speck of cake is left!” He tried to shove the plate into Zhao Lifei’s face but was met by an army of angry women that fussed about dirtying her hands or dress.

“Hey, riceball, get over here!” Yang Yulong scowled when he spotted a pair of twin pigtails dangling from behind Yang Wenxu’s shoulders. They moved as rabbit ears would before they lead the victim on a long, mysterious chase.

“I see you, don’t try to hide. How can you be so mischievous? Who did you inherit that trait from?!” Yang Yulong groaned when he saw her jump from behind Yang Wenxu’s back. Before anyone could grab her, she was already running off with her little legs.

“Ahah, so you’re stupid too! That’s right, run straight into the lion’s den!” Yang Yulong let out a burst of villainous laughter as he placed the plates onto the floor and spread his arms wide. And just as he predicted, the little fool ran straight into his arms.

“Uncle, uncle, don’t be mad at me.” Yang Rina squealed when she was lifted high into the air until her little legs were dangling. She kicked them back and forth before reaching her arms out in an attempt to hug Yang Yulong.

No one protested his act of holding her up in the air as one would do to a plush doll. Everyone knew this idiot was too wrapped around her little pinky to even fathom hurting her. The most he could do was give her a small nagging before abiding by her wishes. Less than a minute had passed before she found herself securely wrapped in his arms, “Uncle, uncle, I was merely tasting the cake for you.”

“Tasting it? Don’t you mean gobbling it up like a sugar-high rabbit?”

“No, no! You have it all wrong!” Yang Rina laughed, wrapping her arms around her doting uncle’s neck. “I was just tasting the food to make sure it’s not poisoned. For you, I volunteered my life. Shouldn’t you be touched and happy at my actions?”

“Oh. You have a point there.” Like a baffled buffoon, Yang Yulong slowly nodded his head. The rest of the people wished to facepalm at how easily he trusted the child’s stupid reasoning, but someone had to hand it to her, she was quite witty to make up an excuse on the spot.

“Is the wedding going to start or are you going to wait until I’m rotting at my funeral?” Zhao Moyao grumbled as he entered the room, dressed in a clean-cut suit.

“Great-grandfather!” Yang Rina squirmed in Yang Yulong’s arms, wanting to be freed and jump right into the arms of her great-grandfather, but someone had beat her to it.

Yang Wenxu had whirled through the people, his stealthy body easily navigated the crowded room. He stopped an arm’s distance away from Zhao Moyao as if expecting something.

Zhao Moyao let out a hearty chuckle at his great-grandson. It was so amusing to hear his lethal tongue tearing apart the hearts of adults only for his actions to be completely different. “There, there.” He patted the young boy on top of the head, ruffling his slightly wavy hair.

“Why do I feel like you enjoy doing this because I own a lot of shares?”

“Shares? What shares?” Yang Wenxu innocently asked, as if he didn’t understand what Zhao Moyao meant.

Zhao Moyao sighed and shook his head in amusement, “Who raised you to be this cunning?”

Yang Wenxu briefly glanced at his mother before glancing at Zhao Moyao, “No one did.”

“Hm and I’m sure my granddaughter didn’t have any influence on your behavior.” Zhao Moyao gave Yang Wenxu a firm pat on the head. “Your mother must be very proud to have a son as cheeky as you.”

“Oh, believe me, I am as proud as I can ever be.” Zhao Lifei chuckled, reaching her hands out. She had barely finished doing so and Yang Wenxu was already at her side. He glanced around and when no one was looking, he desperately clung onto her hands, refusing to let go.

Zhao Lifei’s gaze softened as she bent down and pressed a chaste kiss upon his forehead. “You’re so adorable, my little bonbon.” She teased him, tugging one hand out of his small one to pinch his cheek.

“I’m not a bonbon, nor am I adorable.” He firmly said, although his ears had reddened. He obviously liked to pretend he didn’t enjoy the attention she was showing him, but he was always a horrible liar in front of his mother.

Zhao Lifei had begun calling him bonbon ever since he was a baby. His temper was always unpredictable, like a box of chocolates. But to her, all of it was pleasant and the nickname, “bonbon” just stuck with her.

“Really now?” Zhao Lifei grinned, giving her son a final pinch on the cheek. Her laughter warmed his heart when he swatted at her hand, only for him to immediately regret the decision. A glum, sullen look flashed across his face as he glared at the floor.

Zhao Lifei slowly shook her head with a small smile resting on her lips as she ignored all of the women’s fuss about ruining her dress. She bent to his height and pulled him into her arms for a tight hug. “How can you be this adorable?”

“I said I’m not…” Yang Wenxu pretended he didn’t enjoy her hugs, even though it was his favorite thing in the world, well aside from her, Yang Rina, and his father. He stood still for five seconds before finally giving in to his wishes. His arms wrapped themselves tightly around her shoulders, holding onto her for dear life.

He glanced around and when he thought no one was looking, his harsh voice finally softened. “Mama…”

“Yes, my little bonbon?”

“You look beautiful today.”

“Don’t I look beautiful every day, sweetheart?”

Yang Wenxu’s face reddened at her quick comeback. He was flustered at her question, despite being accustomed to her teasing. “You do—” he didn’t finish his sentence when he felt a pair of strong arms detangling him from her.

“Dad.” Yang Wenxu scowled when Yang Feng had settled him a short distance away from Zhao Lifei.

“Call me daddy and I’ll let you hug her a little more.” Yang Feng bargained, wrapping an arm around Zhao Lifei. It was hard for him to maneuver over the fabric of her dress without stepping on it. Luckily, he didn’t spoil any part of her beautiful dress. If he did, he would’ve received the lengthiest nagging possible.

“As if.” Yang Wenxu frowned, crossing his arms. He had always called his mother by “mama,” but usually, in the privacy of their home, it was always, “mommy.” But when it came to his stubborn and attention-stealing father, it was always “dad,” or when he was in a bad mood, “father,” and when Yang Feng stole Zhao Lifei’s attention, it was, “sperm-donor.”

“Fine, then I suppose I’ll have your mother all to myself. That reminds me, I am going to be accompanying her the entire wedding—”

“Don’t bully our son.” Zhao Lifei chuckled, shaking her head as she reached her arms out for Yang Wenxu to walk into. He threw his father a slight smirk before running straight into her arms.

“Hah, you’re too short to reach her cheek.” Yang Feng mused, leaning into his wife to kiss her on the cheek, but she shrugged off his attempt.

“This is why our son doesn’t call you daddy.” She shook her head while her hands continued to caress the back of Yang Wenxu’s head.

“He will, just you wait, my beloved wife.” Yang Feng chuckled, reaching into the hidden pocket inside of his suit to pull out a folded piece of paper, waving it in front of his son’s face.

“Do you know what this is?”

“A blank cheque?” Yang Wenxu pretended to be disinterested in the paper, but in reality, knew what it was.

“You’re becoming more and more like your mother with each passing day.”

“Good. I don’t want to be like you.”

“Why, you cheeky—” Yang Feng placed the paper back into his suit to pinch the cheek of his son, only for the nimble boy to easily dodge his hand.

“Mama, he’s bullying me!”

“Yang Feng, don’t bully your son!”

“I didn’t.” Yang Feng exasperated, displeased at how quickly she took their son’s side. He glared at his son who glared back and the two let out a simultaneous, “Hmph!”