For the next few days, Jing Yuan didn't bring up the previous day's incident at all.
No questions.
No explanations.
Neither did he show any signs of displeasure.
He continued to perform his duties as a proper servant, his demeanor so calm that it began to… not feel right.
Because he was so normal, I paid even more attention.
I observed him for several days. The way he kept his distance, the way his gaze briefly swept over me before immediately looking away, as if deliberately avoiding everything—it all seemed logical, but when put together, it gave me an inexplicable feeling of unease.
What exactly was he plotting?
Or… was I really overthinking things?
One evening, after dinner, only the two of us were left in the room.
I couldn't take it anymore.
As Jing Yuan turned to leave, I suddenly stepped forward and cornered him against the wall. Due to the height difference, I had to look up to see his face, while Jing Yuan lowered his head, his eyes darkening for a moment.
Before I could say anything, I saw the corners of his lips curl up slightly.
Not a clear smile.
Like a suppressed reflex.
I immediately frowned slightly, feeling a sudden unease:
"What are you smiling about?"
Jing Yuan raised his eyebrows, his voice still calm:
"Smiling? Young master, you're mistaken."
Too natural.
So natural that it made me freeze.
He tilted his head, his gaze resting on my face, as if slowly observing my slightest reaction:
"Or…is the young master going to ask me something?"
That question completely caught me off guard.
Clearly, I was the one pressuring him, but in the end, it felt like I was the one with something unspoken.
I pursed my lips, but before I could reply, Jing Yuan continued, his tone still innocent:
"In broad daylight, young master, you're pinning someone against the wall like this… if outsiders saw this, I'm afraid I'd be misunderstood."
My heart skipped a beat.
Almost instinctively, I let go of his hand and took half a step back:
"You… you shouldn't talk nonsense. I didn't mean that."
Jing Yuan didn't respond immediately.
He just silently looked at me for a few seconds.
No reproach.
No dissatisfaction.
That very silence made me begin to feel that I had been somewhat unreasonable.
Finally, he sighed softly, very gently, as if blaming himself:
"If I have done anything to cause the young master to misunderstand… then it's my fault."
I was stunned.
He didn't say he was wrongly accused.
Neither did he refute it.
But he cleverly placed me in the position of the "misunderstood" person.
Jing Yuan continued, his voice slightly lower:
"It's just that these past few days, I've noticed the young master avoiding me. I thought… perhaps I should keep my distance, so he'll feel more comfortable."
Keeping his distance… was because of me?
My mind immediately became muddled.
His actions these past few days—his proper demeanor, his silence, his distance—suddenly had a complete explanation. Not coldness, but respect. Not dissatisfaction, but yielding.
So… wasn't I the one being unreasonable?
I cleared my throat softly, my voice considerably softer:
"No… I didn't mean to doubt you."
Jing Yuan looked at me.
His eyes were deep, dark, and unwavering.
But his voice softened to the point that I couldn't refute him:
"I understand. It's normal for the young master not to trust me…"
That sentence was like the final blow.
He didn't admit his fault.
But it made me believe that doubting him was wrong from the start.
I bit my lip, a clear feeling of guilt rising within me. Finally, I was the first to speak:
"…About what happened the other day, I raised my voice. I'm sorry."
At that very moment… I didn't see…
the corners of Jing Yuan's lips curled up slightly.
Very small.
Very subtle.
A smile of someone who had gradually led the other in the direction they wanted.