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Chapter 23: An Unexpected Encounter

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Shuiyun Pavilion wasn’t far from the old mansion. Nestled by Yang Lake, its white, half-moon-shaped structure stood out, with a long flight of steps at the entrance flanked by brilliant red maples. Maple leaves were scattered across the stone steps, like autumn’s most beautiful ornament.
Cecilia Ye got out of the car, thanked Uncle Liu, and walked up the stairs.
Someone was checking tickets at the door, so she called Julian Jarvis.
Julian Jarvis came out quickly. It was the first time Cecilia Ye had seen him in a white suit—he looked both handsome and dignified.
“Cecilia, sorry, I was just with a few acquaintances.”
“That’s okay, I just got here myself.”
“Let’s go.”
They entered the art museum together. The museum was large, with three floors.
Cecilia Ye had been here twice before. The first-floor lobby displayed some of the museum’s collection of famous paintings.
After stepping inside, Cecilia Ye froze in surprise—several of her own paintings were hanging in a prominent spot.
Following her gaze, Julian Jarvis smiled. “Your works are far more popular than you think.”
“Really? Thank you, Julian Jarvis.”
Cecilia Ye felt a genuine burst of happiness, a dimpling smile lighting up her face.
Julian Jarvis sometimes found it hard to understand—how could a girl as innocent as Cecilia Ye, when she smiled, be so dazzling that one couldn’t look away?
“Let’s go. Quentin Zane’s exhibition is on the second floor.”
“Mm.”
Unlike the calm and restrained quiet of the first floor, the atmosphere on the second floor was completely different.
Quentin Zane’s paintings were displayed all along the walls; the interplay between the white walls and the exuberant colors was visually stunning.
Just a single glance was enough to capture all of Cecilia Ye’s attention. Quentin Zane’s illustrations were always unique and extravagant, each hue brimming with life.
This series, themed "A Dream Through Ancient Cities," was clearly inspired by classical architecture. Yet, with imaginative distortions and vibrant colors, it became a wondrous fairy-tale world.
Every time Cecilia Ye saw them, she couldn’t help but wonder what kind of free-spirited soul could create such work.
She watched intently, pausing for a long time before each painting.
Julian Jarvis waited patiently behind her, watching her delicate face tilt up in concentration. The light dusted her long, curled lashes with a warm glow; hair tucked behind her ear, exposing a beautiful curve of neck.
To Julian Jarvis, in that moment, the girl before him was a work of art herself.
The gallery was crowded yet hushed, with only the occasional murmur of admiration.
Cecilia Ye loved the atmosphere here, as if she’d fallen into another world.
She spent a long time appreciating every painting along a wall, then turned to find Julian Jarvis watching her with a gentle smile.
A faint blush crept onto Cecilia Ye’s cheeks. “Sorry, I was so absorbed.”
“No worries. Take your time. Quentin Zane has twenty-four pieces here; there’s still plenty to see.”
Inside, the museum was a sequence of circular doors, shaped almost like caves—you had to pass through several turns to see the next space.
By the time they’d finished viewing all the paintings, it was already noon. Julian Jarvis accompanied her downstairs via the glass-railed staircase. They’d just descended a couple of steps when Cecilia Ye suddenly stopped.
Downstairs, by her paintings, stood two people. That silhouette—she would recognize it anywhere. It was Xavier Foster, with Vivian Belle beside him.
Cecilia Ye’s eyes locked onto them, her hands at her sides balling into fists.
She loved painting, and loved visiting exhibitions, but Xavier Foster had never come with her to one— not even once.
At that moment, Vivian Belle was holding Xavier Foster’s hand, leaning half her body against him.
In the past, every time Cecilia Ye saw them together, she would tell herself Vivian Belle was only clinging to Xavier Foster to make her jealous.
But now, they didn’t even notice her existence.
It turned out that, where she couldn’t see, they really were like a couple—
Attending exhibitions side by side, holding hands, close and intimate.
Julian Jarvis noticed as well. He frowned faintly, a cold glint passing through his eyes.
As the couple turned, hand in hand, preparing to come upstairs,
Cecilia Ye took a couple of steps back and fled toward the restroom.
She splashed cold water on her face. In the mirror, her lashes trembled, feeling colder inside than out.
She looked like a miserable clown—no harsh words from Vivian Belle could hurt as much as witnessing that kind of intimacy.
She rubbed her reddened eyes, determined not to cry.
Cecilia Ye stayed in the restroom a long time before finally emerging.
Julian Jarvis was waiting outside, concern etched on his face.
He recognized Xavier Foster—he’d seen him at the restaurant last time. There was no need to ask to understand what had happened.
Julian Jarvis offered a comforting smile. “They’ve gone inside. Let me take you out to eat?”
Cecilia Ye nodded. She was drained—she needed someone to take her away from here.
Meanwhile, in the exhibition hall, Xavier Foster slid his arm from Vivian Belle’s grasp.
If Vivian Belle hadn’t mentioned seeing Cecilia Ye’s paintings, he wouldn’t have come today.
Approaching the display, he easily recognized the paintings on the wall—they were of scenes from the Fu estate, beautiful and familiar.
He was absorbed in looking, oblivious to Vivian Belle holding onto his arm.
He thought he’d glimpsed a familiar figure on the stairs, but perhaps it was just his imagination.
Julian Jarvis brought Cecilia Ye to his family’s restaurant nearby. It had a classic, ink-wash style decor, and the dishes were Suzhou and Jiangnan cuisine: light, refined, and elegant.
They sat by the window, latticework framing the view. Yet Cecilia Ye had no heart for scenery. She sat, dazed, until the food arrived and snapped her out of it.
She gave Julian Jarvis an apologetic look and tried to smile. “Sorry for worrying you, Julian Jarvis.”
He shook his head. “You don’t need to apologize. About... well, if you’d rather not talk, that's fine. But sometimes letting it out helps.”
“It’s nothing to hide. We’re getting a divorce. The girl with him is the one he really loves.”
Cecilia Ye gave a bitter little smile.
“I’m sorry.” Julian Jarvis frowned, pushing a small bowl of chicken soup in front of her.
“You don’t have to be. Xavier Foster and I agreed to this when we married. I’ve known from the start.”
“Isn’t it foolish? Knowing he loves someone else, and marrying him anyway—”
“It’s just... I like him too much.”
The words were awkward and helpless—being in love meant losing all control.
She lowered her head to drink the soup, hiding the pain in her eyes.
Julian Jarvis looked at the girl before him—so heartbroken, still pretending to be strong.
How could Xavier Foster care for someone else? Last time in the restaurant, he’d looked so concerned for Cecilia Ye. Julian Jarvis couldn’t help but wonder.
“Let’s eat. This is my family's restaurant. I hope you like it.”
“Mm. It’s delicious.”
After the meal, Julian Jarvis drove Cecilia Ye back to the old mansion.
She was so exhausted she fell asleep in the car. When they arrived, she was still asleep. Julian Jarvis watched her resting, her long lashes gently fanned, breathing soft as a whisper.
Xavier Foster really didn’t know how lucky he was.
Maybe sensing the car had stopped, Cecilia Ye woke, rubbing her eyes. “Sorry, I dozed off.”
Julian Jarvis laughed, tucking a stray lock of her hair behind her ear. “You’ve said ‘sorry’ to me too many times today.”
Cecilia Ye shrank back, almost imperceptibly.
He turned and fetched a beautifully wrapped box from the back seat, handing it to her. “A gift for you—your birthday’s coming up, isn’t it?”
Cecilia Ye was momentarily stunned—her birthday really was soon, and she hadn’t expected Julian Jarvis to remember.
She hugged the gift to her chest. “Thank you. The exhibition was wonderful, and I loved your gift too.”
After bidding Julian Jarvis goodbye, Cecilia Ye returned home. She put the present on the table, but wasn’t in the mood to unwrap it yet.
Her phone lay by her elbow. Suddenly, she had the urge to call Xavier Foster.
She wanted to ask what he was doing—maybe he was having dinner with Vivian Belle.
Her slender hand gripped the phone—just this once, she wanted to be reckless.
She dialed. Holding her breath, she waited for the rings to connect.
“Hello? What is it?”
His familiar voice came through, but Cecilia Ye was at a loss for words.
After a long hesitation, she finally spoke softly. “Zhiye, are you busy?”
There was a pause. “No, I’m out.”
“Ah Ye, let’s have some shrimp, okay? Do you want anything else?”
Before Cecilia Ye could answer, Vivian Belle’s voice rang out from the other end.
“Never mind, I’ll let you get back to it.” Cecilia Ye hung up, almost fleeing from the call.
Ha. Serves you right, Cecilia Ye. You knew they were together, yet still brought this humiliation on yourself.
On the other end, Xavier Foster stared at his phone in thought.
“Order whatever you like. I’m done—you eat. I have work at the company.”
He got up and left the restaurant, leaving Vivian Belle glaring resentfully at his back.
Just now, she’d seen Cecilia Ye’s name light up on his phone.
Cecilia Ye—the absolute worst.
In his car, Xavier Foster called his assistant, Henry Hart.
“Buy Quentin Zane’s piece—number sixteen—from the Shuiyun Pavilion exhibition today.”
He remembered how much Cecilia Ye adored Quentin Zane’s artwork—and her birthday was just around the corner.