Chapter 11
Chapter 11 Rose 11 [New Addition]: “When the younger sister breaks up, the older sister takes the opening.”
The next morning, Fu Chaoying woke groggily from sleep. The space beside her was empty, leaving only the faint scent of magnolia in the air.
She remembered that after Ye Jiayuan came back from answering the call, she had taken the initiative to curl into her arms. And after that? Had she really slept in Ye Jiayuan’s embrace all night?
Fu Chaoying slipped on her slippers and quietly stepped out of the room, calling softly, “Sister Jiayuan?”
No one answered, but a note lay on the coffee table: [I’ve gone to work. You can call breakfast through the intercom. — Ye Jiayuan]
The handwriting was just like the person—steady, yet sharp.
Fu Chaoying’s brows lifted as she picked up the note and dialed the intercom. Before she could even speak, a vaguely familiar female voice came through. “Miss Fu, hello. What would you like for breakfast?”
It was Ye Jiayuan’s residence manager.
After ordering wonton noodles and tea eggs, her phone suddenly rang. It was a call from her eldest aunt.
“Xiaoying, where are you?”
“Waiting for breakfast.” Fu Chaoying’s lips curled.
Her eldest aunt, Fu Anyun, assumed she was in the hotel restaurant. After a few simple pleasantries, she gave Fu Chaoying an address and told her to attend a luncheon at noon.
The people at the table were all her aunt’s friends, and Fu Chaoying obediently agreed. Then she turned back into Ye Jiayuan’s bedroom, folded the quilt, and took away her own pillow and teddy bear.
The room returned to looking like a place she had never set foot in.
Fu Chaoying went to the other bedroom to get her travel bag, took out a bottle of perfume, and lightly pressed the nozzle twice into the air.
Ye Jiayuan’s bedroom was instantly filled with a faint rose fragrance; it was the perfume Fu Chaoying usually used.
Satisfied, she curved her lips and gently pulled the door shut behind her.
Just after Fu Chaoying stepped out of the bedroom and was about to gather her things, her phone screen suddenly lit up.
It was a message from Ye Jiayuan: [Still there?]
Fu Chaoying’s brows and eyes softened. Her fingertip tapped the screen, ready to reply, but then another message came in: [Could you help me scan a document? It’s on the desk.]
Fu Chaoying sent back an “ok” sticker, then turned into the corridor beside the master bedroom and found the study at the far end.
Sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows, lighting up half the bookshelf; the whole space carried a quiet, warm feeling.
Fu Chaoying walked straight to the desk by the window and quickly found the document.
It was only a few pages, so scanning it was fast.
Just after she sent it over, she lifted her eyes in a daze and suddenly caught sight of a bright splash of color.
It was a painting—the oil painting she had given Ye Jiayuan.
A lively yet slightly clumsy painting hung on the white wall directly facing the desk.
It clashed with the understated luxury of the decor, yet somehow blended perfectly into the atmosphere of the study.
Fu Chaoying’s breath caught sharply. Her phone vibrated in her hand; it was Ye Jiayuan’s “thank you.”
Her heartbeat sped up.
Ye Jiayuan had hung her painting in a place she could see every single day, just as Fu Chaoying had placed the painting Ye Jiayuan gave her beside her bed.
Was Ye Jiayuan responding to her?
Countless sultry images flashed through Fu Chaoying’s mind; the unspoken words and unfinished actions intertwined, and the wavering thought in her head suddenly solidified into something certain.
She didn’t just want revenge on Ye Yian; she also wanted to find out how far Ye Jiayuan’s special treatment of her could go.
Or rather, whether Ye Jiayuan truly felt something for her that was different from everyone else’s.
*
At noon, Fu Chaoying attended the luncheon with her aunt. During the meal, she conducted herself gracefully, speaking at just the right moments and leaving the guests with an excellent impression.
But the evening cocktail reception was the real social battlefield.
Her aunt had her own commitments and only reminded her not to drink too much; the rest was left for her to handle on her own.
Fu Chaoying picked up a glass of red wine, stood in a corner, and reviewed a few commonly used lines of social English. Then she took the initiative to strike up a conversation with two international oil painters.
They showed strong interest in Chinese ink painting and said they hoped to have a chance to visit Nanyan for research next time.
Fu Chaoying gladly invited them and naturally exchanged contact information.
After the conversation ended, she turned to look for a new target; however, someone lightly tapped her shoulder.
“Miss Fu, what a coincidence.” It was Yunji, the founder of a rising Chinese-style clothing brand, who had once approached her about a collaboration.
Back then, because Ye Yian had previously worked with them, Fu Chaoying had politely declined.
Now that they had run into each other again, Fu Chaoying put on a perfectly measured smile. “Miss Yun, long time no see.”
The two of them shook hands lightly.
Yunji didn’t mention the regret of their earlier missed collaboration. Instead, she enthusiastically introduced tomorrow’s fashion exhibition and brought up the invitation once more.
Fu Chaoying remembered receiving the other party’s email several days ago and never replying; she hadn’t expected them to invite her again in person.
After a brief consideration, Fu Chaoying nodded. “It would be my honor.”
She knew she shouldn’t let Ye Yian’s involvement color her view of the brand, especially since they had already come knocking three times.
Not long into the conversation, a familiar female voice sounded from the stage area. Fu Chaoying looked up and saw the woman from last night; it was Ye Jiayuan’s colleague and university classmate, Qu Jingyuan.
Ye Jiayuan had said she was busy today and couldn’t attend in person.
As the sponsor of this forum and cocktail reception, Xingye International naturally had to say a few formal words.
The woman was flamboyant and full of charm, like the brightest star in the night sky, and naturally drew everyone’s attention.
Fu Chaoying watched her figure, but couldn’t help wondering what kind of woman Ye Jiayuan would like.
Before she could think it through, she heard a voice from not far away.
“Aying, found you.”
Ye Yian, wearing a burgundy gown, slowly walked up to stand in front of her.
Fu Chaoying did not turn around. She shifted to the side of the bar counter, but saw that Ye Yian followed her.
“The letters I wrote you, you rejected every single one.” Ye Yian’s tone carried a trace of humility. “Aying, I’ve cut things off with her completely. Give me one more chance, okay?”
Fu Chaoying turned her head, her expression calm, and said flatly, “Ye Yian, I don’t like leftovers.”
Her voice was light, but her meaning was absolute.
Ye Yian was about to say something else when several women in tailored suits cut in.
“Little Ye?”
They recognized Ye Yian and immediately came over to exchange pleasantries.
Fu Chaoying couldn’t be bothered to join in their hypocrisy and was about to leave when one of the women stopped her. “Where are you going, Miss Fu? Not staying with Little Ye?”
Fu Chaoying ignored her and tried to shake off the other woman’s hand, only to hear two sharp voices mocking her.
“Didn’t they break up? Why are they still attending the cocktail party together?” someone muttered under her breath.
“Isn’t that obvious? A peaceful breakup. What’s wrong with borrowing some of your ex’s resources?”
The two women traded lines back and forth, their tsk-tsk’s never stopping.
Her ex’s resources. They thought Ye Yian had brought her here.
Fu Chaoying suppressed the fire rising in her chest and swept a cold glance over the crowd, only to realize that Ye Yian seemed to have no intention of clarifying anything. Maybe Ye Yian really believed that Xingye had sent invitations to her, Fu Chaoying, through that connection.
A nameless anger surged through Fu Chaoying. She took two deep breaths and forced it down; just as she was about to turn and leave, her body suddenly jolted.
She had actually collided with a warm, solid embrace.
The familiar scent of magnolia rushed into her nose at once. Fu Chaoying’s breath caught, and a cool voice brushed past her ear. “Borrowing whose resources? I personally invited Miss Fu.”
Ye Jiayuan lifted her left hand and naturally rested it on Fu Chaoying’s shoulder, while her right hand held a glass of red wine; her expression was composed, yet her presence was overwhelming.
All around them, gazes snapped over at once. Looking at the intimately standing pair, those foul-mouthed women were instantly speechless, and even Ye Yian was so stunned she couldn’t say a word.
Fu Chaoying blinked, then recovered and looked up to meet Ye Jiayuan’s gaze.
Her eyes were as inscrutable as ever—mysterious and impossible to read—yet they made Fu Chaoying’s heart suddenly speed up.
The surrounding gossip surged in waves.
“Oh my god, Ms. Ye personally invited her?”
“No wonder Fu Chaoying said she doesn’t eat leftover grass...”
“She really climbed onto a better branch!”
Amid the swelling tide of gossip, one voice offered a different interpretation: “This is getting interesting. Is this... the younger sister breaks up, and the older sister steps in?”