"Zhao Yang's Parents"

Mom, you're already 50, okay?! Please act according to your age! 

Zhao Yang gritted his teeth while the beauty flipped her long, wavy black hair. Her fair and fine face came in full zoom, slowly approaching Zhao Yang's eyesight. That face was a spitting image of Zhao Yun. 

Well, that would be Zhao Yun if he was born a girl. 

The woman's slanted up eyes glinted as tears rolled down her cheeks. She kept blowing her nose with a white handkerchief before stopping in front of Zhao Yang. 

"Xiao Yang!" The woman yelled once more. She was about to squat and hug her beloved son when Zhao Yang patted the empty bench next to him. 

"Mom, sit down. I can't stand up." The young man answered calmly. He looked up at the woman who was as tall as himself. 

Her graceful yet seductive figure was truly a catastrophe enough to topple a country.