On The Night I Confirmed My Girlfriend's Infidelity, I Kissed Her Sister (GL) - Chapter 3: Kisses, Low. Hoarse and Light. Trembling.

Fu Chaoying froze, a faint trace of amusement flashing across her features—

Since when had Ye Jiayuan become so warmhearted?

The Ye Jiayuan she remembered was always composed and distant, as if nothing in the world could shake her.

Shen Guannan noticed the subtle shift in Fu Chaoying’s expression, a glimmer of amusement in her own eyes before she cleared her throat. “Ye Jiayuan is a good person. And she’s close with your mother and grandmother—why haven’t you asked her for help?”

Fu Chaoying took a slow sip of her drink, her gaze dimming.

Of course she knew Ye Jiayuan’s reputation—exceptional skill, unwavering integrity.

Ye Yi’an listened to his sister more than anyone. If Ye Jiayuan spoke up for her, any condition could be negotiated.

But…

“Guannan-jie,” Fu Chaoying suddenly asked, her voice so soft it nearly dissolved into the bar’s ambient music, “are you nice to me because of my mother?”

The question seemed random, yet it wasn’t entirely unfounded.

Shen Guannan understood immediately. “You think if she’s kind to you, it’s only because of your late family?”

In Fu Chaoying’s memory, Ye Jiayuan had always been lukewarm toward her—especially after a job transfer three years ago, the polite distance between them had only grown, as if Ye Jiayuan was deliberately keeping her at arm’s length.

She still remembered a childhood fever, when her mother and grandmother were both away on business and left her at the Ye household.

Ye Jiayuan hadn’t exactly been patient with her.

Fu Chaoying had always believed Ye Jiayuan didn’t like her.

Fu Chaoying nodded. “If I asked her for help, she probably would.”

“But it would only be because of my family.”

Her family was gone—and Fu Chaoying was the last person who would exploit their memory.

Shen Guannan thought of certain past events. “Then how did you put up with Ye Yi’an before?”

Ye Yi’an used to frequently and ostentatiously commemorate Fu Chaoying’s grandmother—a renowned ink painter, her gold-medal lawyer mother, and chemist father on social media.

Between the lines, she always implied her own kindness and her care for Fu Chaoying, the pitiful orphan of the Fu family.

Fu Chaoying let out a self-deprecating laugh, a cold glint flashing in her eyes. “Probably because I was love-struck.”

After her mother passed away, her grandmother and Ye Yi’an became her emotional anchors.

Later, when her grandmother died, Ye Yi’an became her sole pillar.

It took her a long time to accept that even her “only one” could betray her and leave her.

Shen Guannan patted her shoulder. “Xiao Ying, being alone isn’t so bad. Look at me—I’m doing just fine, aren’t I?”

Shen Guannan hadn’t lost any relatives, yet she might as well have had none. During the time she decided to cut ties with her family completely, she was far less composed and calm than Fu Chaoying was now.

Fu Chaoying’s eyes curved slightly, though the smile didn’t reach them. “I’ll find something interesting to do first.”

Without emotional attachments, without love or hatred—how was she supposed to live?

Checking the time, Shen Guannan clinked glasses with her. “Ye Jiayuan should be arriving soon. Remember to message me when you get home.”

Shen Guannan left first.

Fu Chaoying’s gaze grew increasingly unfocused as she listened to the distant melody of Tomorrow’s Gift.

She had hummed this song softly on countless afternoons.

Back then, she had placed herself so low, believing it was always Ye Yi’an who tolerated her.

Only after seeing the truth did she realize—she had been the one doing all the tolerating.

She had known Ye Yi’an was using her, yet she still clung to the energy and dopamine she provided.

She had naively thought these benefits could keep Ye Yi’an by her side.

But she never imagined Ye Yi’an could exploit her value while ruthlessly cheating on her.

As her drink neared its end, Fu Chaoying motioned for another.

The bartender, however, slid a glass toward her. “Courtesy of that lady over there.”

Following the gesture, Fu Chaoying’s gaze landed on a woman seated in the light, dressed entirely in black.

After just a glance, Fu Chaoying looked away and pushed the glass aside. “Make me a fresh one.”

Perhaps noticing her refusal, the woman strode over and sat beside her. “Little sister, how about a drink together?”

Fu Chaoying had strong self-preservation instincts and naturally wouldn’t clink glasses with a stranger.

She tilted her head slightly, her gaze cool as it swept over the woman. “Sorry, I don’t like women in black.”

The woman chuckled and reached to pull open her collar, revealing a flash of red lingerie—a provocative, ambiguous gesture.

Fu Chaoying lowered her eyes, about to call for security, when a slender figure emerged from the shadows.

Dressed in an impeccably tailored black suit, the woman’s wavy hair swayed gently with each step.

A delicate, pale wrist bore a watch that glinted coldly under the light.

Ye Jiayuan caught the stranger’s wrist with an elegant yet firm grip. “Have some self-respect.”

Her voice was low and composed, but laced with warning.

Fu Chaoying turned slightly and met those deep, inscrutable eyes.

A single glance, and her heartbeat inexplicably quickened. Those eyes always held emotions she couldn’t decipher.

The stranger froze, then glared at Ye Jiayuan. “Who the hell are you?”

Ye Jiayuan didn’t answer. Security arrived swiftly.

Fu Chaoying ignored the commotion, focusing only on downing her drink.

As she raised the last sip to her lips, another hand intercepted hers.

Fu Chaoying’s heart raced again as she turned her bleary eyes and mumbled, “What are you doing…”

Ye Jiayuan gazed at her face, noticing how her once-clear pupils were now clouded with intoxication, yet still carrying profound dejection.

“How did you end up in this state.”

Her tone was impossibly gentle, making Fu Chaoying feel inexplicably wronged. She stopped trying to pull her hand away. “Who are you…”

It seemed she was too drunk to recognize her.

Ye Jiayuan took her glass away. “I’ll take you home.”

Fu Chaoying obediently let herself be led, leaning into her embrace as they walked. But at the entrance, she suddenly called out to the security guard—

“Security! I don’t know her. She says she’s taking me home.”

Ye Jiayuan sighed helplessly. Despite her drunken stupor, her sense of self-preservation remained sharp.

After a brief explanation with the guard to prove their acquaintance, they were finally allowed to leave.

Ye Jiayuan guided her into the car, where the back seats were fitted with airline-style chairs. She helped her settle in before taking her own seat.

The scent of alcohol filled the air again.

Ye Jiayuan raised her hand to open the window but hesitated, then withdrew it.

The early spring night was chilly—keeping warm was more important.

“Ye Jiayuan…”

“Why would Ye Jiayuan come pick me up?”

“Are you really Ye Jiayuan…”

Watching her lips part and close, Ye Jiayuan’s mouth curved into a faint smile.

Fu Chaoying seemed to have dozed off, but her murmurs continued: “Ye Yi’an, you’re disgusting,” “How could you do this to me…”

Her voice even cracked with hints of tears.

She sounded utterly heartbroken.

Noticing the teardrops at the corners of her eyes, Ye Jiayuan reached out to gently wipe them away. Her fingertips lingered on Fu Chaoying’s cheek for less than two seconds before withdrawing.

As if restraining something.

Fu Chaoying hazily registered the feather-light touch, ticklish and fleeting.

When they arrived at the Fu residence, Aunt Wu recognized Ye Jiayuan and gasped at the sight of the heavily intoxicated Fu Chaoying in her arms. “Goodness, how did she get so drunk!”

“Thank heavens Miss Jiayuan found her—who knows what could’ve happened otherwise!”

Frowning slightly, Ye Jiayuan supported Fu Chaoying inside. “Which room is hers?”

Aunt Wu led them upstairs.

The Fu family’s ancestral home retained its vintage decor, having only been restored—not remodeled—when they moved in three years ago.

Fu Chaoying’s room still displayed the rare antique painting Ye Jiayuan had gifted her for her eighteenth birthday.

Fu Chaoying had adored it, vowing to see it first thing every morning.

A promise kept for six years.

True to her word, she had hung it right across her bed, where it greeted her upon waking.

Ye Jiayuan averted her gaze and guided Fu Chaoying to the bed, tucking her in carefully before turning to Aunt Wu. “Could you prepare some hangover soup, please?”

Aunt Wu didn’t leave immediately. Pausing at the doorway, she watched as Ye Jiayuan’s black blouse became thoroughly wrinkled, then saw her patiently remove Fu Chaoying’s shoes without hesitation.

After a moment of silent astonishment, she relaxed and went downstairs to make the soup.

Just as Ye Jiayuan was about to leave the bedside, Fu Chaoying suddenly sat up and wrapped her arms around her waist. “Sister, are you leaving already?”

The warmth and pressure around her waist were impossible to ignore. Ye Jiayuan raised her hands tentatively, only to rest them on Fu Chaoying’s hair. “I’m going to check on the hangover soup.”

Unconvinced, Fu Chaoying only tightened her embrace. “Don’t go, sister…”

Ye Jiayuan gazed into Fu Chaoying’s hazy, pleading eyes before slowly looking away with a resigned sigh. “I’m not leaving now.”

She stopped resisting and let the younger woman cling to her, treating her like a child.

Fu Chaoying seemed to sense the security and gradually loosened her grip.

Soon, Aunt Wu arrived with the hangover soup and nearly dropped the bowl at the sight of their entangled figures.

Noticing the disturbance, Ye Jiayuan patted Fu Chaoying’s shoulder and asked Aunt Wu without turning, “Is the soup at the right temperature?”

Only then did Aunt Wu realize it was just the drunk young mistress being clingy. “Perfectly warm,” she chuckled.

Settling on the edge of the bed, Ye Jiayuan partially embraced Fu Chaoying before accepting the soup bowl.

Aunt Wu observed her gentle yet proper movements, then glanced at the pink-cheeked girl nestled in her arms.

Suddenly inspired, she excused herself, “Would you mind watching Miss Fu for a moment? I think I left the stove on.”

Without looking up, Ye Jiayuan gave a soft hum of acknowledgment before blowing lightly on a spoonful of soup.

Fu Chaoying, her head cushioned against softness, blinked open her eyes to see Ye Jiayuan’s clean jawline and slightly pursed lips blowing steam away.

Her throat moved involuntarily as a spoon appeared before her mouth.

“Be good.”

Ye Jiayuan’s voice was tender as if coaxing a child.

Fu Chaoying blinked, then obediently accepted the spoon, swallowing the bitter liquid.

Halfway through, she suddenly turned and buried her face against Ye Jiayuan’s waist, muffling a complaint into the fabric: “Tastes awful…”

With a quiet sigh, Ye Jiayuan set the bowl aside and tried to ease her back onto the pillows—only to be abruptly pulled into an embrace.

“Hold me, jiejie…” Fu Chaoying murmured against her collar.

Ye Jiayuan froze mid-motion, debating whether to indulge this tipsy request when—in the space of a heartbeat—those intoxicated eyes filled her vision.

Then—

Fu Chaoying’s lips met hers.

Time seemed to crystallize.

Every muscle in Ye Jiayuan’s body locked as she registered the warm, tentative pressure—a kiss flavored with alcohol and hesitant longing.

She wanted more than just an embrace.

Ye Jiayuan’s breathing grew slightly uneven, the pressure of her palm against Fu Chaoying’s shoulder involuntarily increasing.

When their lips met, a strange, tingling sensation spread through her.

It wasn’t until Fu Chaoying subtly deepened the kiss, her tongue gliding deftly past Ye Jiayuan’s teeth as if seeking permission, that the latter suddenly snapped back to reality.

Her hands tightened on Fu Chaoying’s shoulders, trying to push her away—yet afraid she might fall, the force behind it remained gentle.

“I’ll ask Aunt Wu to take care of you.” Her voice was still steady, though laced with a barely perceptible huskiness and tremor.

Watching her retreating figure, Fu Chaoying curved her lips into a faint smile.

Perhaps, if she wanted Ye Jiayuan’s help, there might be another way.

After all, she had never seen this eternally composed woman wear such a dazed, almost intoxicated look before.

This reaction was far more amusing than her sister’s deliberately performed affection.

–

Early the next morning, in the CEO’s office.

“…Also, Young Miss Ye mentioned wanting to transfer 2.5% of the shares to Miss Chaoying. She requests you preside over the shareholders’ meeting.”

After the assistant finished reporting softly, Ye Jiayuan merely shook her head lightly.

Her slender fingers tapped lightly on the keyboard, a faint, imperceptible glimmer of amusement flashing in her eyes.

“Hold off on proceeding for now.”

The assistant hesitated. “Is there an issue?”

“The numbers are wrong.”

Gazing out at the cloudless sky, Ye Jiayuan’s tone was indifferent.

Only 2.5%—that was far too little.