"Here; I'll feed you a piece of meat, too."
Mu Yazhe turned his face away in disdain. "No."
A wave of displeasure and anger washed over him as he recalled how she had gently fed her brother meat. His emotions seemed to be stuck in his throat, and he could neither spit them out nor swallow them down.
He was not so finicky to the extent of requiring someone to feed him.
Even when he was young, he was different from the other willful kids his age. At the age of three, he could already sit in the baby chair and eat his meals using a spoon. He needed no coaxing or cajoling him from anyone. Just like that, he would, quietly and obediently, finish his meals.
Kids of that age were usually found in the arms of the adults, while the grownups tried to coax them into eating their meals, but there was none of that for him.
He had always been an independent person and done things on his own. This trait of his could be found in his older son.
