On The Night I Confirmed My Girlfriend's Infidelity, I Kissed Her Sister (GL) - Chapter 2: A Clean Break

Despite the doubts swirling in her mind, Fu Chaoying couldn’t possibly voice them outright. She merely smiled gently.

After exchanging a few polite pleasantries, she courteously saw Ye Jiayuan’s assistant out.

“Xiao Ying, drink this while it’s still warm.”

Fu Chaoying took the ginger tea Aunt Wu had prepared and kept warm—just the right temperature.

Aunt Wu’s gaze inadvertently fell on the ornate box placed on the entryway cabinet, her expression hesitant.

Noticing her subtle reaction, Fu Chaoying curved her lips into a faint smile. “Aunt Wu, Ye Yi’an and I are about to break up.”

She said it as calmly as if she were recounting someone else’s story.

Aunt Wu opened her mouth but ultimately sighed. “Maybe it’s for the best.”

Truth be told, neither family had ever approved of their relationship.

Fu Chaoying was sensitive and poised, while Ye Yi’an was fiery and unrestrained. Everyone had foreseen that the former would be the one to get hurt.

Now, even as they parted ways, Aunt Wu didn’t ask for a single reason.

Fu Chaoying walked to the floor-to-ceiling window and dialed Ye Yi’an’s assistant.

“Hello, Ye Yi’an and I are breaking up. Any photos involving me today—don’t post them.”

The assistant responded hastily, but Fu Chaoying didn’t press further, hanging up directly.

As expected, the assistant had probably sensed something long ago. Only she had remained in the dark.

It didn’t matter anymore.

Outside, the rain gradually subsided, the damp earthy scent in the air slowly fading.

Fu Chaoying had no intention of disturbing Ye Yi’an’s romantic spring night, but ending things with just a single WeChat message seemed far too careless.

Yet the call remained unanswered.

Lowering her eyes, Fu Chaoying lightly swiped her screen and typed a simple text: [I know about you and Yu Qingqi. We’re done.]

She called Aunt Wu to help pack Ye Yi’an’s belongings.

Only as she loaded the suitcase did Fu Chaoying realize how little of Ye Yi’an remained in this home—just some clothes, cosmetics, and office supplies, nothing more.

By the time she finished packing, Ye Yi’an finally returned her call.

The familiar ringtone still lingered in her ears, but Fu Chaoying had no time for her now.

She decisively packed the last of Ye Yi’an’s things, then worked with Aunt Wu to carry them to the doorway.

“Xiao Ying, should we move them outside the courtyard?” Aunt Wu asked softly.

Fu Chaoying gazed at the drizzling rain and shook her head. “Just leave them here.”

The Fu and Ye families had been close for generations, their ties intricate. A petty squabble between the younger generation wouldn’t ruin their mutual decorum.

Besides, they would inevitably cross paths again. Better to leave some room for civility.

After closing the door, Fu Chaoying walked straight to the control panel, changed the home entry code, and deleted Ye Yi’an’s fingerprint information.

With everything done, the house seemed to return to its former state, even the air once again filled with tranquility.

“Xiao Ying, this box…” Aunt Wu’s voice sounded again.

Following her gaze, Fu Chaoying looked toward the entryway cabinet, where an embroidered box lay quietly.

“Put it outside with Ye Yi’an’s luggage.”

Now that they had broken up, there was no reason to keep something from her sister—especially since the congratulatory gift was naturally chosen with Ye Yi’an’s preferences in mind.

Just as she finished speaking, Fu Chaoying’s steps upstairs were halted by Aunt Wu’s words: “Xiao Ying… it looks like calligraphy or artwork. Should we open it and see?”

Fu Chaoying paused, her eyes fixed on the box. Ye Yi’an had never been interested in antiques or paintings, so why would Ye Jiayuan choose such a gift for her?

Curious, Fu Chaoying took the box, carefully carried it to the living room, and opened it.

As she lifted the rosewood latch, an appraisal certificate came into view, accompanied by an illustrated booklet about the artwork.

Fu Chaoying held her breath, carefully reading the text. Moments later, Aunt Wu couldn’t help but exclaim, “This is Jade Orchid Painting… the original?!”

The name stirred Fu Chaoying’s memory.

Jade Orchid Painting was one of the representative works of the “Southern School” that Fu Chaoying belonged to. Her grandmother, Fu Li, often spoke of it during lessons, lamenting how it had been lost overseas for decades.

Rumors said Jade Orchid Painting had recently appeared at an international auction, bought by a Chinese collector—could that person really have been Ye Jiayuan?

As thoughts swirled in her mind, Fu Chaoying recalled the assistant’s words—“a congratulatory gift for you”—and suddenly realized that this gift might not have been for Ye Yi’an at all, but for her, Fu Chaoying…

A faint shock ran through her. She carefully repacked the painting, returned it to the box, and took it to the studio for safekeeping.

Only after storing it properly did Fu Chaoying begin to wonder—why would Ye Jiayuan give her such an extravagant gift?

Was it out of respect for the artwork itself? Or reverence for her late grandmother, Fu Li? Whatever the reason, this kindness far surpassed what a simple “thank you” could convey.

Just as Fu Chaoying was about to contact Ye Jiayuan, a familiar voice came from downstairs: “A-Ying, can you come down? Let’s talk face to face.”

Ye Yi’an’s tone sounded utterly aggrieved, as if the whole incident had been a misunderstanding. But how could that be?

Fu Chaoying walked downstairs to the entryway monitor, where the screen displayed Ye Yi’an, her hair soaked.

Ye Yi’an paused, assuming she was just in a mood, then smiled again. “Alright, I’ll bring you crab roe buns tomorrow morning.”

Her slightly disheveled clothes made Fu Chaoying think of certain images, and she suddenly felt a wave of disgust.

Fu Chaoying averted her gaze, spotting the swing in the screen behind her—the one she and Ye Yi’an had built together.

The wisteria and tulips in the yard had also been planted by their own hands three years ago.

Taking a deep breath, Fu Chaoying opened the door.

Ye Yi’an immediately stepped forward, trying to push her way in, only to be stopped by Fu Chaoying’s icy voice: “Say whatever you have to say right here.”

Aunt Wu, hearing the commotion, positioned herself in front of Fu Chaoying, shielding her from any potential physical contact.

“A-Ying, I didn’t—” Ye Yi’an forced a smile, trying to ease the tension.

Fu Chaoying stared straight into her eyes and spoke coldly, “You didn’t what?”

“I didn’t… cheat.” Ye Yi’an’s voice dropped to a whisper on the last word, her gaze flickering uneasily.

Fu Chaoying let out a mocking laugh. “So even you know how shameful this is.”

She paused before continuing, “Ye Yi’an, I remember we agreed—if you fell out of love, you could just say it. No lies.”

Hearing the finality in Fu Chaoying’s tone, Ye Yi’an’s expression twisted. This was the first time Fu Chaoying had ever addressed her by her full name in such a frigid voice, and it pierced her heart like a blade.

Tears silently rolled down Ye Yi’an’s cheeks as she pleaded in a choked voice, “You’ve misunderstood—there’s really nothing between us—”

Fu Chaoying remained unmoved. “So you went to a hotel just to sleep in separate clothes, is that it?”

“Then again, you are frigid.”

For the first time, Fu Chaoying realized she could be this cruel, digging into someone’s wounds—yet it brought her an inexplicable sense of satisfaction.

“No, we went to discuss work!” Ye Yi’an hastily corrected herself, only to falter when she realized the contradiction. “I—I’m sorry, I lied about that. The production team didn’t actually call me.”

Fu Chaoying remained indifferent. “Was that the only lie?”

“What about the perfume? Who were you talking to all night?”

Ye Yi’an fell silent, only able to repeat, “You’re the only one in my heart. It’s always been you—”

Fu Chaoying had no interest in dragging this out. “That’s enough. We’re done.” She turned to walk back inside.

Behind her, Ye Yi’an’s voice rose into a hysterical sob. “A-Ying, I swear, nothing happened with her—!”

Guilty people always overcompensate. A bitter taste rose in Fu Chaoying’s throat as she turned back with a cold warning: “If you don’t want to end up trending, take your things and get out.”

It was the only leverage she had over Ye Yi’an—and the most effective.

Shock, disbelief, and Ye Yi’an’s luggage were all left outside as the door shut.

The world beyond fell into silence.

Leaning against the door, Fu Chaoying closed her eyes, recalling the day three years ago when they had stepped into this house together, hearts brimming with hope and joy.

Had people’s hearts always been capable of changing so quickly?

Or maybe Ye Yi’an had never changed at all.

From the moment she confessed, she had already decided to use Fu Chaoying to craft her own image. Compared to personal gain, something as trivial as genuine feelings hardly mattered.

Fu Chaoying headed upstairs to the study when her phone buzzed—a message from Ye Yi’an:

[“A-Ying, no matter what, I shouldn’t have lied to you. I’ve already asked my lawyer to draft a compensation agreement to transfer part of my studio’s shares to you. You can also propose other conditions. Let’s meet tomorrow morning, okay?”]

Incidentally, tomorrow would mark the third anniversary of the Chaoying Art Gallery’s establishment.

Back then, Ye Yi’an had confessed her feelings to Fu Chaoying in this very courtyard. The Chaoying Art Gallery had been her surprise gift, a token of her sincerity.

Naming an art gallery after one’s girlfriend—what could be more romantic?

Who would have thought it would end like this?

Fu Chaoying immediately contacted her lawyer friend Shen Guannan. She absolutely wouldn’t let Ye Yi’an get away with cheating silently and breaking up without consequences.

After arranging to meet with her lawyer, Fu Chaoying replied to Ye Yi’an: [“Tomorrow at 10 AM, South Ink Café.”]

Having handled these matters, Fu Chaoying picked up her phone to contact Ye Jiayuan.

Considering how busy the other woman might be, she first sent a message: [“Jiayuan-jie, would now be a good time for a call?”]

However, before she could receive Ye Jiayuan’s reply, Shen Guannan called first.

[“Xiao Ying, the rain has stopped. Want to come out for some tea?”]

Fu Chaoying knew Shen Guannan well—this wasn’t just about comforting her, but about getting the full story.

[“Okay.”]

Fu Chaoying retrieved some documents from her safe before heading out to hail a cab, but her destination wasn’t a teahouse—it was a quiet bar.

Tea might disturb sleep, while alcohol could help. She just wanted a good night’s rest tonight.

Under the dim lighting of the bar, Fu Chaoying calmly and methodically recounted the events to Shen Guannan, showing no visible emotional fluctuation.

Shen Guannan felt both impressed and puzzled: If Fu Chaoying had truly noticed Ye Yi’an’s issues long ago as she claimed, had she ever really loved this person?

If she had truly loved her, how could she remain so rational?

Reading her thoughts, Fu Chaoying explained calmly: “I started emotionally distancing myself when I noticed her giggling at her phone and making excuses to stay out overnight.”

“So confirming her infidelity step by step was just expected.”

Shen Guannan studied her for a moment before smiling in understanding. “Your mother must be very reassured about you.”

Fu Chaoying’s mother had been Shen Guannan’s mentor when she first joined the law firm, someone who had recognized her talent.

Fu Chaoying lowered her eyes briefly before continuing to outline her demands.

Shen Guannan noticed something: “Do you have other leverage?”

Fu Chaoying nodded, pulling out a manila envelope from her bag. “The gallery’s accounts have issues.”

Back when she first suspected Ye Yi’an of cheating, she had secretly hired someone to investigate. The results had come in just a week ago.

“No wonder Ye Yi’an proactively offered compensation,” Shen Guannan mused, yet remained perplexed: “The gallery collaborates with auction houses, and they’re in the film industry too…”

It was hard not to suspect tax-related issues.

“That’s why she needs me,” Fu Chaoying said with self-deprecation. “To make everyone believe she opened the gallery for me.”

Shen Guannan murmured: “There’s more—she’s using you to build her public image.”

The entire internet believed Ye Yi’an was kind and responsible, caring for the orphaned Fu girl while proudly announcing their relationship. But the truth was far more complicated.

After two drinks, Fu Chaoying ordered another.

Shen Guannan gazed at the woman before her, wondering inwardly—had this breakup changed her, or simply revealed the hidden facets of her personality?

Rational yet reckless, delicate yet rebellious.

“That drink has a high alcohol content,” Shen Guannan cautioned.

Fu Chaoying merely smiled faintly. “I might have inherited my mom’s genes—I never get drunk.”

No one knew, of course.

No one knew she could hold her liquor. No one knew about the tattoos hidden beneath her clothes. And no one knew that, despite pretending otherwise, she had never actually liked ink wash paintings.

Halfway through her third glass, her phone screen suddenly lit up—that name glaring back at her.

Fu Chaoying’s pulse quickened, her vision growing hazy, her words slurring slightly. “Guannan-jie, I feel dizzy… Could you answer that for me?”

The live singer strummed softly in the background as Shen Guannan stepped outside to take the call. When she returned, she handed the phone back to Fu Chaoying.

“Ye Jiayuan said if it’s important, you can call her tomorrow.”

“Oh.” Fu Chaoying responded flatly.

Of course. Ye Jiayuan had always treated her with polite detachment—why would she suddenly care now?

The corner of Shen Guannan’s lips curled slightly as she added, “I told her you and Ye Yi’an broke up, that you were heartbroken and drunk at a bar.”

Fu Chaoying’s eyes flickered. “And then?”

“She said she’d come pick you up.”