Sunday.
Early in the morning, hearing the door, Dong Xuebin groggily crawled out of bed.
Luan Xiaoping came in, her face full of irritation. Seeing that her son was awake, she could not help shooting him a fierce glare. "I'm telling you, no drinking next time. Look at the state you were in after drinking. You grabbed your Uncle Yang and kept calling him Old Yang, Old Yang, and you even told him..." She could not bring herself to repeat the rest. Thinking of how her son had dared to give Old Yang a warning for her sake, Luan Xiaoping's heart warmed. "Anyway, drink less from now on, understand?"
Dong Xuebin readily agreed. "Got it, got it. Where's Old Yang?"
"Still Old Yang?" Luan Xiaoping said unhappily. "Call him Uncle Yang."
Dong Xuebin chuckled. "Fine, I'll call him whatever you tell me to. Happy now?"
Only then was Luan Xiaoping satisfied. "Get up quickly. Your Uncle Yang is making breakfast for us. I wanted to help, but he wouldn't let me. He insisted on having you try his cooking."
Dong Xuebin let out an "uh" and hurriedly grabbed his clothes. "Comrade Old Yang is being far too polite. You're making me feel awkward here. Mom, toss me my socks. I'm going to help Uncle Yang." Yesterday had been their first meeting, and he had been the guest, so Dong Xuebin had not thought much of Yang Zhaode being polite. But after a full day together, Dong Xuebin had accepted the relationship between Old Yang and his mom. That made him the junior now. Letting Minister Yang run around cooking and serving him was really hard to justify.
By the time Dong Xuebin had brushed his teeth and washed up, breakfast was ready.
"Xiao Bin, come to the table." Yang Zhaode