The restaurant buzzed with warmth and life, the scent of chili oil and sizzling stir-fries filling the air. Weiyang adjusted Xiaomei on his lap, his movements precise yet gentle. Dressed in a casual yet polished beige linen shirt and tailored trousers, his effortless charm drew lingering glances from nearby tables, but his attention was solely on his family.

As plates of vibrant dishes were brought to the table, Weiyang’s lips curved into a soft smile. He glanced at Xiaomei, her tiny hands reaching out eagerly for the colorful spread before her. “Patience, princess,” he murmured softly, gently moving a steaming plate of dumplings out of her reach. “You’ll get your turn.”

His eyes lingered on a bowl of mapo tofu, its fiery red hue almost glowing under the dim restaurant lights. A memory surfaced—his mother’s voice, firm yet amused. '"Weiyang, you were eating spicy food before you could even walk. It’s in our blood—start early with Xiaomei, so she gets used to it!”'

Leaning back slightly, he considered her words before picking up a spoon. “Alright, Xiaomei, let’s see if you inherited my taste buds.” He scooped the tiniest portion of the spicy tofu, its sauce barely coating the edge, and brought it closer to her. Her wide eyes followed the spoon with curious determination.

“Just a little, my brave girl,” he chuckled, watching as she took the bite. Her face immediately scrunched up, cheeks puffing as her tiny tongue darted out in protest. A surprised squeal escaped her, and her hands flailed in the air.

Weiyang couldn’t hold back his laugh, the sound deep and full of affection. "Okay, maybe that was a bit ambitious," he admitted, quickly reaching for a nearby bowl of plain rice to neutralize the heat. He scooped up a small amount and offered it to Xiaomei, his movements gentle and reassuring. "Here, princess, this will help."

Xiaomei eagerly accepted the rice, her little hands gripping Weiyang’s fingers as if to say, “Why did you do that to me?"