"Pfft—"
His brother could no longer hold back his snigger; a mouthful of chicken soup flew out of his mouth and landed on the table.
Mu Yazhe's lips twitched hard. Glancing at the fossilized woman with a hurt soul next to him, he commented, "My dear son, I thought you're used to it."
Youyou snorted. "Well, I'm indeed used to it! Still, that table manner is simply horrible!"
Only through gritting his teeth did Mu Yichen manage to hold in his laughter. He carefully watched the debate between his brother and his mother.
Yun Shishi retorted, "Well, I'm hungry! Besides, the food you prepared tastes so good mommy can't help gobbling it all up…"
"Is that why you don't care about your image anymore?" The boy cocked a brow indifferently. "Mommy, how many times must I tell you that you need to be more lady-like and elegant?!"
She explained, "I am always elegant outside and have maintained a very graceful image even."
