Jian Anning belongs to this type—moreover, she and Yu Zexiao haven’t married yet, and they don’t have children.

"Come, come, Yangyang, be good, come over here."

The Mo Family’s great hall was cleared out, with a wide space in the middle covered with a cashmere carpet and surrounded by soft foam, like a small competition field. On this side of the track, there were many little things, toys, books, small brushes, and even snacks.

At the end of the track was a little kid, wearing tiger-head shoes and a tiger-head hat, chubby with a double chin. His little chunky arms and legs, like lotus stems, waved around as he plopped down with his little bottom right in the middle of the track, glaring with his big black grape-like eyes at the adults bustling around him.

The adults kept clapping and cheering, bringing out rattles and little toys to capture the little one’s attention. But Mo Yangyang didn’t care at all, focused on sitting at the starting point, gnawing on the little bell in his hand, drooling and nibbling away joyfully all by himself.

"Come, Yangyang, come over to mommy." Zhao Ziyin had a way. With her over here clapping, holding up his favorite thing—the pacifier—Mo Yangyang finally reacted a little. His chubby little bottom scooted over, holding the little bell tightly, wobbling as he tried to stand up. After struggling for a while, he toppled over onto the cushion, figuring it was easier just to crawl quickly into his mother’s arms.

Don’t be fooled by his chubbiness, those little chunky legs had strength, with a few kicks, he crawled over to mommy’s side. Zhao Ziyin tried to get him to participate in the "抓周," but the little guy didn’t care at all, burying into his mother’s embrace.

"Yangyang, come pick one. What do you like, choose one." Zhao Ziyin forcefully turned the little one’s head towards the "抓周" items, and Mo Yangyang didn’t understand, thinking his mom was being mean, he kicked his little legs, puckered his little lips, and cried.

"Baby, sweetie, don’t cry, don’t cry!" Seeing her big baby cry, Zhao Ziyin was a bit at a loss. Grandma Liao Zixin immediately tried to guide him: "Yangyang, sweetie, see which one is cute, what do you like?" She, Mo Yuhan, the nanny, Mo Siyu, and Zhao Ziyin each held an item, placing them in front of the little one for him to choose. A book was handed over, and Mo Yangyang rudely tossed it aside, crying as he did so. Rattles, brushes, and abacuses received the same treatment. Finally, Zhao Ziyin casually took a package of baby teething biscuits, and Mo Yangyang was about to toss it, until he heard it shake, "hmm, sounds fun," smelled it, "mmm, smells good," and licked it, "wow, tasty!"

Thus, none of the "抓周" items got used, and Mo Yangyang happily nibbled away on the package of biscuits.

The Mo Family, along with friends and relatives present for the occasion, were all stunned. So, it seemed, Mo Yangyang wasn’t interested in reading, finance, nor politics, he was—indeed a foodie?

"Yangyang, do you want to try picking something different?" Mo Yuhan couldn’t stand the thought of his grandson being just a foodie and tried to snatch the food from his little hands. Seeing his stuff being snatched, Mo Yangyang instantly puckered his mouth, eyes welled with tears—crying again.