Jua Gu immediately noticed the nasty smile on Ying Di's face, as well as the way his eyes kept drifting toward the bowl of food in front of him. His brows lifted slightly.
This kid… does he really think I'm that much of an idiot? He must have done something to the food.
His gaze then shifted toward Ying Mao, who was innocently picking up his chopsticks and preparing to eat.
Jua's expression changed.
Did he do something to Mao's food too?
He couldn't possibly let Ying Mao eat anything that Ying Di had tampered with. If that was what this little brat had planned, then Jua would simply have to play along and ruin the surprise for him.
A small smile appeared on Jua's lips as he reached toward one of the dishes in the center of the table. He deliberately chose the roasted Peking duck, leaning forward as though he were simply trying to serve himself some food. Just as his hand reached for the dish, however, his loose sleeve slipped down and fell directly into the bowl of steaming soup sitting in front of Ying Mao.
"Oh my God, I'm sorry, Mao!"
Ying Mao immediately put down his chopsticks and pushed the steaming bowl away.
"Brother Jua, are you hurt?"
He hurried around the table to look at Jua's arm, his little face filled with worry.
"It's fine. I'll just wash it with cold water," Jua assured him quickly, pulling his sleeve back.
The soup had somehow managed to splash onto his skin, leaving the area stained a deep pink. The heat burned fiercely, almost as if he had plunged his hand directly into a blazing inferno. Jua's body was far more sensitive to pain than it had any right to be, and even a small burn felt unbearable.
Ying Mao reached out to touch his hand, but the moment his fingers came close, Jua instinctively hissed and pulled away.
"It's nothing!" he insisted, trying to sound calm. "We need to run it under cold water."
He immediately took Ying Mao by the hand and pulled him away from the table, already preparing to head toward the kitchen.
Ying Di, who had been watching the entire thing, quickly put on his concerned expression.
"It's just a small burn. Why are you making such a big deal out of it?"
Ying Mao frowned at him.
"Jua-ge is in pain. I don't want him to be in pain."
Ying Di's expression stiffened.
"Jua, it doesn't hurt that much, right?"
He said it casually, fully expecting Jua to agree with him as he usually did.
Instead, Jua lowered his head and gave him a pitiful look.
"It hurts so bad."
Ying Di's face immediately fell.
Ying Mao, on the other hand, looked even more worried.
"Then we need to put burn cream on it!"
He didn't wait for anyone to say another word. Grabbing Jua's hand, he dragged him away from the table and toward the kitchen, completely abandoning his dinner in favor of taking care of him.
Ying Di sat there in stunned silence.
He had been expecting a show. He had imagined Jua discovering the cockroaches in his food, panicking, screaming, and finally losing that irritatingly calm expression. Instead, Jua had somehow managed to turn the situation around, and now Ying Mao was fussing over him instead.
The disappointment quickly turned into frustration.
"Those two…"
His hands clenched beneath the table.
Those two are working together to make a fool out of me!
His face twisted with anger as he shoved his bowl of soup away.
"I'll show them. I'll show them exactly what I can do!"
He abruptly stood from his chair, but before he could take another step, a sharp pain suddenly twisted through his stomach.
Ying Di froze.
His face paled as his stomach cramped violently, forcing him to bend forward. He gripped the edge of the table for support, but another painful wave rolled through him, making his knees weaken.
"What… what is this?"
His stomach growled loudly.
Ying Di's eyes widened in horror.
The pain intensified, and for the first time that day, he began to wonder whether his terrible luck had finally gone too far.
Ying Di barely had time to wonder what was happening before another violent cramp twisted through his stomach.
He grabbed the edge of the table, his face rapidly losing color. The pressure in his stomach suddenly became unbearable, and before he could even make it to the bathroom, his body betrayed him.
A loud, humiliating loud fart broke through the silent dining room.
Ying Di's eyes widened in horror.
There was no stopping it.
His bowels emptied right there, and the mess immediately stained the brand-new white jeans he had been so proud of wearing only a short while ago. The fabric around his legs was ruined in seconds, and some of it even reached the chair beneath him, leaving an unmistakable stain.
The entire dining room fell silent.
Ying Di sat frozen, his face turning from pale to bright red as he realized what had just happened.
One of the maids covered her mouth, desperately trying not to laugh.
Another turned her face away, her shoulders shaking.
Even the servants who had been standing nearby struggled to maintain straight expressions.
Ying Di's humiliation quickly turned into fury.
"What are you laughing at?!"
The room immediately went quiet.
The maid who had been struggling not to laugh straightened herself, but Ying Di had already noticed.
"You!" He pointed at her furiously. "What did you put in my food?!"
"N-Nothing, Young Master!"
"Don't lie to me!" Ying Di snapped. "You poisoned me!"
The accusation made several servants exchange nervous glances.
The head servant finally stepped forward, his face pale with embarrassment. He looked as though he desperately wanted to disappear rather than explain what had happened.
"Y-Young Master…" The older man swallowed hard. "You… you weren't poisoned."
Ying Di stared at him.
"What did you just say? You saying that I'm wrong! Then why am I in this state! You obviously poisoned me! I'll have my mom fire all of you! All of you!"
The servant's voice became even more hesitant.
"Earlier, when you came into the kitchen, you took the milk carton from the refrigerator and drank directly from it." The head servant lowered his gaze. "That milk… was expired, Young Master. We had left it there temporarily because we were going to throw it away."
Ying Di stared at him as if he had just spoken another language.
"You…"
His face twitched.
"You're telling me that I drank expired milk?"
The servant nodded nervously.
"Y-yes, Young Master."
He looked down at his ruined white jeans. The expensive jeans he had begged his mother for.
Now they were stained beyond saving.
Behind him, one of the maids let out a tiny snort before quickly covering her mouth.
Ying Di's eyes burned with tears of humiliation.
"Did you just laugh?!"
"N-No, Young Master!"
"You did!"
The maid lowered her head, biting her lip so hard that her shoulders trembled.
Another servant quickly turned away, but Ying Di could see the amusement on his face too.
His humiliation deepened until it became pure rage.
"This house is full of useless people! I'll have you all fired! Fired!!!"
He pushed himself up from the chair, only to immediately regret it when another cramp seized his stomach.
"Oh, fuck…"
He abandoned whatever dignity he had left and hurried toward the bathroom, one hand clutching his stomach and the other desperately trying to keep his ruined jeans from making the situation even worse.
Behind him, the dining room remained silent for a moment.
Then one of the maids quietly whispered, "He really shit himself…hahahah"
Another servant covered his mouth.
A muffled laugh escaped.