During the kiss, Yingyu Chi deliberately made a soft *mwah* sound—not loud, yet unmistakable between them. Even Jianglai, usually slow on the uptake, realized her younger sister-in-law was shamelessly taking liberties.
A flicker of unease shot through Jianglai. She covered her head and subtly slid toward the far end of the sofa, her mind racing. Every odd detail she’d noticed lately suddenly clicked into place.
Lowering her hands, Jianglai gently pulled the dazed girl beside her. It was time for a private talk.
"Yingyu," she began, voice steady despite her nerves, "there’s something I’ve never said. I’ve always treated you as an equal—you’re my wife’s sister, after all. I never saw myself as your elder."
Jianglai had never been one to dominate. Even with her own stubborn daughter, she chose gentle words over authority. But now, facing this fragile soul who’d shared her life for years—her wife’s younger sister—she forced herself into the role of a caring guardian. She pictured her own mother’s warmth, mimicking it piece by piece.
"This time," she said softly, "will you listen to me as you would an elder?"
Yingyu felt a tender, maternal glow radiating from her brother-in-law—like winter sunlight spilling over her, soothing and safe. Beneath the comfort, she savored the softness of Jianglai’s hand in hers, grinning up at the flustered woman. "I’m listening, *gege*."
"It’s just…" Jianglai’s throat tightened. The question had simmered in her heart for days. "Do you… like girls?"
Before Yingyu could react, Jianglai’s own cheeks burned. *How could I blurt that out?* But the clues were undeniable: Yingyu’s lack of suitors, the absence of men in her life—even Jianglai herself was now female. Those lingering touches, the playful kisses… it all pointed one way. *She’s spent years alone. And now I’m parading around as this gorgeous woman, teasing her without meaning to.*
As the responsible elder, Jianglai steeled herself. "I’ve watched you grow up. You’ve never dated. Barely had friends. I saw it all." Her voice grew husky; a sheen of tears blurred her eyes. "I know my presence held you back. Made you sacrifice too much."
Yingyu had never heard these words. *Is this what he’s carried all these years?* "I chose this," she whispered. "You never held me back."
"If I’d been stronger," Jianglai pressed on, "you wouldn’t have shouldered so much alone." She remembered the child Yingyu once was—younger than her own daughter now. Back then, Jianglai had been a reckless twenty-something, blind to the weight on those small shoulders. "I want your happiness. Whoever you love—man or woman—I’ll support you. I may seem old-fashioned, but I read online. I understand."
Yingyu tilted her head, curiosity cutting through the tension. "I’m less curious about *my* preferences… and more about what *you* know." For years, she’d studied Jianglai like a sacred text, yet his heart remained a locked room. *What fantasies fill his nights? What does he touch when he’s alone?* The thoughts spiraled, deliciously filthy.
"That’s not the point—" Jianglai looked away, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear to hide her blush. "I just… see things online sometimes. We don’t have to be strangers. You can tell me anything."
"*I see~*" Yingyu purred, unconvinced by the flustered evasion. She lifted Jianglai’s hand to her cheek, pressing a slow, intimate kiss to her palm. Her voice melted like warm honey, dripping with longing. "You look so beautiful right now, *gege*… beautiful enough to make me want to be with you."
