On The Night I Confirmed My Girlfriend's Infidelity, I Kissed Her Sister (GL) - Chapter 6: I Like It

As the evening drew to a close, Aunt Chu solemnly led them to the reception room and made a call to Ye Yi’an.

“Come here.”

This was likely where the farce would finally end.

Fu Chaoying sat sandwiched between her aunt and cousin, remaining silent despite Aunt Chu’s repeated reassurances.

She lowered her gaze, her mind calm.

Ye Jiayuan had already mediated between both sides. Now, all Fu Chaoying had to do was quietly play the role of the victim—she didn’t even need to look up.

Not that she wanted to see Ye Yi’an’s disgusting face anyway.

“Xiao Ying.”

Hearing the deep voice, Fu Chaoying slowly lifted her eyes to see Ye Jiayuan standing before her—neither too close nor too far, maintaining just the right distance.

“A-Ying.”

Fu Chaoying’s peripheral vision caught Ye Yi’an entering the room.

The two sisters stood side by side, forming a stark contrast—one composed and steady, the other flustered and uneasy.

“My apologies. We failed to discipline Ye Yi’an properly,” Ye Jiayuan said calmly, though a hint of coldness lingered in her tone. As she spoke, she tilted her head slightly toward Ye Yi’an beside her, her gaze profound.

The moment her words fell, Ye Yi’an abruptly bowed deeply toward Fu Chaoying.

“A-Ying, I sincerely apologize to you.”

Fu Chaoying didn’t respond, her eyes fixed on the engagement ring on Ye Yi’an’s left middle finger.

What was once a token of love now seemed bitterly ironic.

Ye Yi’an said something else, but Fu Chaoying wasn’t listening closely. Instead, she stared at the ring before finally speaking in a hoarse voice, “Take it off.”

“Why are you still wearing it after breaking up?” Aunt Chu couldn’t help interjecting, her tone clearly displeased. “Do you need me to remove it for you?”

Ye Yi’an clearly hadn’t expected this. Flustered, she awkwardly pulled the ring off.

Everything that followed unfolded naturally.

Fu Chaoying’s gaze flickered to Ye Jiayuan’s profile. Those eyes were unreadable, as if she saw through everything yet concealed layers of complexity.

Her voice was steady, her tone measured—like she was discussing a business deal.

But that night, her body had burned with unmistakable heat.

When Ye Yi’an started talking about trivial matters, Fu Chaoying gently leaned into her aunt’s arms and murmured softly, “I’m so sleepy.”

Aunt Chu understood immediately and quickly urged everyone to go rest. Before leaving, she didn’t forget to add, “Xiao Ying, if you ever need anything in the future, just ask our Jiayuan, okay? Don’t be shy.”

Fu Chaoying lifted her gaze, locking eyes with Ye Jiayuan. The other woman gave a slight nod, the corners of her lips curling into an almost imperceptible smile.

Chu Yiyun arranged for Ye Jiayuan to escort Fu Chaoying home.

Having the head of the household personally see her off was both an apology and a gesture of respect.

Ye Yi’an followed them out, watching as her sister, Ye Jiayuan, politely and properly escorted Fu Chaoying to the car before circling around to the other side to get in.

Her manners were impeccable, yet Ye Yi’an couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off—her sister was being unusually kind to Fu Chaoying, almost suspiciously so.

A flicker of confusion passed through Ye Yi’an’s eyes as she heard the car door close. She tightened her grip on the voice recorder in her pocket.

Once the car was sealed, warm air rushed in, cutting off the chill from outside.

Under the dim interior light, Fu Chaoying whispered to Ye Jiayuan, “Thank you.”

Ye Jiayuan turned her head, her gaze settling on Fu Chaoying’s face.

Their eyes met in the darkness, their breaths faintly audible in the quiet.

Fu Chaoying’s mind flashed back to that drunken night—their mingled breaths, their lips pressed together.

“Are you thanking me for seeing you home, or for agreeing to be your consultant?” Ye Jiayuan asked, her voice still calm but carrying a trace of something lighter, almost imperceptible.

With no interior lights on and the windows tinted, Fu Chaoying couldn’t make out her expression, only gauging her mood through her tone.

It was a stark contrast to how she had been in the sitting room earlier.

Fu Chaoying averted her eyes, steadying her breath before replying, “Both.”

She glanced at Ye Jiayuan from the corner of her eye, only to find that the other woman hadn’t looked away. Was she still watching her?

Fu Chaoying lightly clenched her hands, then turned to look again—but Ye Jiayuan had already closed her eyes at some point.

The car was silent, no music playing, leaving only the sound of their breathing.

By the faint light, Fu Chaoying traced the contours of Ye Jiayuan’s profile—her high nose bridge, perfectly shaped lips, and the faintly visible collarbone, all exuding an austere beauty.

“I’m going on a business trip to Singapore tomorrow,” Ye Jiayuan suddenly said, opening her eyes.

Caught off guard, Fu Chaoying’s mind raced before she replied, “Then… would you like to stop by my place to pick up the painting on the way?”

Their eyes met again. Ye Jiayuan gave a slight nod. “Mm.”

–

Bathed in warm yellow light, Fu Chaoying and Ye Jiayuan stepped into the house together.

Aunt Wu, hearing the commotion, hurried over with a beaming smile. “Oh, Miss Jiayuan is here! Would you like something to drink? Should I make some floral tea?”

Ye Jiayuan inclined her head in acknowledgment.

Fu Chaoying was about to lead Ye Jiayuan upstairs when the latter paused in front of an ink-wash painting.

It was Beauty and the Land, a masterpiece by Fu Chaoying’s grandmother, Fu Li—graceful yet bold, with profound depth.

Ye Jiayuan stood before it, and Fu Chaoying stopped as well, following her gaze. Then, unexpectedly, Ye Jiayuan spoke—

“You traced this?”

Every non-artist friend who had visited had mistaken it for an original Fu Li piece, given that this was Fu Li’s former residence.

Yet Ye Jiayuan alone recognized it as a replica.

Surprised but keeping her composure, Fu Chaoying asked, “How could you tell?”

Ye Jiayuan pointed to the misty clouds in the painting. “This part was done with pine-soot ink.”

Grandmother preferred lacquer soot ink, while she favored pine soot ink—a distinction few outsiders could discern.

Fu Chaoying silently admired her but kept her expression neutral. “Jiayuan-jie truly has a wide range of knowledge.”

Ye Jiayuan glanced at her briefly, giving an almost imperceptible shake of her head, the corners of her eyes curving slightly.

Fu Chaoying led Ye Jiayuan upstairs to the door of the studio.

Yet Ye Jiayuan remained rooted at the threshold. “I’ll wait here for you.”

Fu Chaoying paused, then reached out to gently grasp her wrist.

The skin beneath her palm was warm and smooth as jade—so unlike Ye Jiayuan’s usual cool, reserved demeanor. Unconsciously, Fu Chaoying tightened her grip slightly.

Ye Jiayuan let herself be led inside but suddenly lowered her gaze, staring at where their skin touched.

“Look at this one,” Fu Chaoying said, stopping her before a painting.

Ye Jiayuan lifted her eyes and saw brushstrokes that were gentle yet powerful, the ink layered with rich depth, the entire piece ethereal and serene.

It could undoubtedly be called a masterpiece of the Southern School.

“Is it good?” Fu Chaoying tilted her head to look at her.

Ye Jiayuan studied it for a moment before nodding. “Are you giving it to me?”

“No,” Fu Chaoying shook her head, her smile faint.

“I just wanted to show you—my grandmother’s favorite painting.”

Painted in the final week of her grandmother’s life, Fu Chaoying still didn’t know whether her words—“the best,” “my favorite”—had been sincere or just to comfort her.

Grandmother had always been good at comforting her.

“It’s very well done,” Ye Jiayuan added, “Old Madam Fu had excellent taste.”

Fu Chaoying’s heart stirred, and the corners of her lips lifted slightly.

The faint redness still lingered at the edges of her eyes, and when she smiled now, it carried a fragile quality.

Ye Jiayuan averted her gaze discreetly, scanning the paintings lining the walls before asking, “Which one are you giving me, then?”

Fu Chaoying curved her lips and pointed lightly. “This one.”

Ye Jiayuan followed her gesture and froze for a moment.

It was an ink painting that stood in stark contrast to the traditional Southern School style—its lines wild and untamed, evoking boundless wilderness.

Technically unrefined, yet it triumphed in its unrestrained freedom.

Ye Jiayuan gazed deeply at the painting, then turned her profound gaze toward her.

Fu Chaoying met her eyes directly and blinked lightly. “Do you like it?”

Ye Jiayuan was silent for a moment. “This doesn’t resemble the Southern painting style.”

Of course, it didn’t.

Fu Chaoying gave a soft hum of acknowledgment.

Ye Jiayuan caught the slight flattening of her lips from the corner of her eye, and a flicker of amusement passed through her gaze. “If I like it, will you give it to me?”

Fu Chaoying nodded gently, a hint of mischief in her eyes. “Of course.”

“So, do you like it?”

This should have been a moment of unspoken understanding between adults, yet Fu Chaoying suddenly felt compelled to press for an answer.

Ye Jiayuan sighed helplessly and turned her attention back to the painting.

The room fell into silence. Just as Fu Chaoying was about to turn and fetch a ladder, she abruptly heard Ye Jiayuan say—

“I like it.”

Fu Chaoying instantly turned back, her eyes locking onto Ye Jiayuan’s calm, steady gaze.

Ye Jiayuan held her gaze and repeated, “I like it.”

The emotions in her eyes were too complex—Fu Chaoying only caught a fleeting glimpse of tenderness before it vanished.

“Then, I’ll take it down now.” Fu Chaoying turned to find the ladder, and Ye Jiayuan helped carry it over, holding it firmly in place.

Fu Chaoying had just climbed four steps when, as if guided by some inexplicable impulse, she glanced back at her.

The look in Ye Jiayuan’s eyes at that moment was so resolute, as if she were determined to help her ascend to the heavens—yet so deep that it was impossible to guess what she was truly thinking.

Fu Chaoying smiled faintly, carefully removed the painting, rolled it up with care, and placed it inside a sandalwood box.

“There’s one more.” Fu Chaoying pointed to the marble tabletop. “Just finished.”

Ye Jiayuan looked up. “The oil painting from your social media?”

Mentioning social media again.

Ye Jiayuan stepped closer to the table. Fu Chaoying’s gaze lingered on her elegant silhouette as she asked casually, “Jiayuan-jie, did you check my social media?”

“Yes.”

The answer was obvious. Fu Chaoying stood beside her, packing the painting, and joked, “Then next time you see something, remember to like it!”

“I don’t usually check social media.” Ye Jiayuan shook her head lightly.

“That’s fine,” Fu Chaoying shrugged. “At least Jiayuan-jie has seen it once now.”

Ye Jiayuan pressed her lips together, hesitating before finally saying, “I rarely have time.”

Fu Chaoying waved a hand with a light smile. “It’s no big deal.”

When it was time to leave, Fu Chaoying stood at the gate of the courtyard, watching Ye Jiayuan depart.

Only when the car’s taillights disappeared around the corner did she turn and go back inside.

Not one to waste, Fu Chaoying returned home to eat the children’s meal reheated by Aunt Wu.

She had barely taken two bites when she received a message from Ye Jiayuan—

[When I return from my business trip, I should have time to have dinner with you.]