Bai Zihan looked down at him for a moment.
His expression did not change.
"Do it properly,"
Bai Zihan said calmly.
Yuan Jie's shoulders stiffened.
Bai Zihan's gaze lowered slightly, observing the rigid back, the clenched fists, the bowed head that seemed more forced than repentant.
"I cannot feel any sincerity in your words."
Yuan Jie's head snapped up slightly, disbelief flashing across his face.
(What?)
He was already kneeling.
Already apologizing.
What more did Bai Zihan want?
His humiliation had reached its limit.
"Young Master Bai," Yuan Jie forced out, his voice trembling, "I have already—"
Bai Zihan raised a single hand.
Yuan Jie's words died instantly.
"If you must kneel," Bai Zihan continued, his tone mild, "then kneel properly."
His eyes were no longer indifferent.
"Lower your head. Straighten your back. Speak clearly."
"If you apologize, do so with sincerity."
Bai Zihan spoke as if bowing properly were something taught extensively.
