Slow to mature after marriage

Bo Yan thought he had misheard.

"……who?"

This time, Mu Siwan's tone was much more certain.

"Meng Qing. I used to... like him."

As for the person she likes now, she thought of the three principles that stood between him and Bo Yan, but there was no room for her to think about it any further.

Bo Yan's lips were pressed into a straight line.

He learned the news rather suddenly, and he was in a bad mood, starting to hate himself for insisting on playing the game half an hour earlier.

Alright, alright, you insisted on asking. Now look what kind of bullshit information you've found out.

Mu Siwan actually did have a white moonlight.

That's utterly absurd.

"Didn't you say he was just your tutor?" The man looked down at her, his voice low and unreadable.

"Yes." Mu Siwan bit her lip, "But his appearance during that time gave me a lot of spiritual strength."

Bo Yan did not respond.

Mu Siwan didn't want to talk about "the person she liked" anymore. She pushed the dice over, her voice becoming more hurried, trying to distract herself.

"Your turn."

Bo Yan didn't move. He stared straight at her, his gaze holding something she couldn't decipher, and he had long since lost interest in playing games.

"So," he began slowly, his voice deepening, "are you sure you like him, and not just see him as a free-spirited icon?"

Spiritual totem?

Mu Siwan was taken aback. She didn't understand why he cared about this.

"That doesn't matter," she said. "I don't like him anymore. I'm your wife now, and I know my limits."

She shoved the dice into his hand.

"You can start throwing now."

Bo Yan looked down at the die in his palm, weighed it in his hand, and then fell silent.

It's his wife, that's right.

But his wife didn't like him.

Bo Yan had never realized this so clearly before. In the past, she could use excuses like "she's a cynic and doesn't understand love" to cover it up. But Mu Siwan had liked Meng Qing—she could clearly sense it and say with certainty that she liked Meng Qing.

But Mu Siwan could never say that she liked him.

So, are those edited videos on the internet real? A love misplaced, a lost and found white moonlight, a broken mirror mended.

Oh.

Round my ass. As long as he's around, this broken mirror will never be round.

Bo Yan casually tossed the die, which rolled twice on the coffee table before landing on a "6". Bo Yan glanced at the card, tossed it aside, leaned back on the sofa, and watched her expressionlessly.

"Truth or dare. My condition is, right now, do it with me." He paused for a moment, "You take the initiative, honey."

Mu Siwan paused: "But we were just in the car..."

"That doesn't count." Bo Yan continued to stare intently at her, his tone not harsh, but brooking no refusal. "Come here, sweetie, you take the initiative."

Mu Siwan looked at him for two seconds, then stood up and straddled him. She cupped his face, gently massaging his taut jawline with her thumb, and whispered, "But you're not aroused right now."

Bo Yan was amused by her words, but his dejected mood had not yet dissipated.

"Hmm." He was still deflated by that awful news. He lifted his eyelids slightly. "Just touch Mo."

Mu Siwan lowered her head, her fingers resting on his belt buckle; the clinking of metal was particularly clear in the quiet living room. Bo Yan stared at the top of her head, his Adam's apple bobbing.

I quickly got the hang of it.

Mu Siwan straddled him, her movements clumsy. Bo Yan barely moved, his hand lazily resting on her waist, letting her do as she pleased. But she didn't last long—he mischievously adjusted the angle.

Mu Siwan's waist slumped instantly, and she lay on his chest, her breathing rapid and broken.

"If you move, I'll have no strength left," she complained in a muffled voice, with a hint of grievance at the end.

Bo Yan's palm rested on her lower back, without moving an inch.

"Forces are reciprocal," he slowly replied, returning her words. "You dare say I didn't use any force?"

Mu Siwan: "..."

She was so angry that she tried to get off him, but as soon as she managed to prop herself up a little, Bo Yan pulled her back with ease.

"Hiss—" It went completely limp.

Someone then gently patted her, deliberately asking, "Why did you stop?"

Mu Siwan grabbed his shoulder, her face expressionless, her voice muffled: "I'm out of energy."

"I said let's roll the dice." Bo Yan chuckled softly. "What are you thinking, Madam?"

Mu Siwan ignored him and casually threw the dice.

"The last game."

The number landed on "3". She propped herself up and reached for the card on the coffee table. Just as her fingertips touched the edge of the card, a large hand suddenly grabbed the back of her neck and pulled her back, tightly wrapping her in a hot embrace.

"I love you," Bo Yan suddenly said.

Mu Siwan's heart skipped a beat.

"...What?"

"The requirements on the card."

"It's about saying 'I love you' to the other person," Bo Yan's voice came from above.

"Mu Siwan, tell me—I love you."

Mu Siwan's heart was pounding uncontrollably; her ears were filled with the sound of blood surging. She tried to keep her voice steady: "I don't remember this requirement on the card."

"You're mistaken. That's the requirement on the card."

"Then I'll choose to drink."

Mu Siwan refused without hesitation.

She realized there were certain boundaries that she could not cross, no matter how much Bo Yan tried to deceive her.

Once broken, their long-standing, stable relationship is very likely to cease to exist.

The atmosphere suddenly turned cold.

Bo Yan didn't speak again. He grabbed her waist, flipped her over, and pinned her to the sofa. Mu Siwan's thoughts were suddenly thrown into disarray. Her fingers gripped the sofa cushion tightly, her knuckles turning white. She bit her lip, trying not to make a sound, but her breath still broke out, dissipating into the air.

When her consciousness was almost completely disconnected, she heard a soft sigh from above her.

"Can't you even lie to me, Mu Siwan?"

-

the next day.

Mu Siwan woke up in Bo Yan's arms.

The curtains weren't fully drawn, and a ray of light squeezed in through the gap. She squinted, snuggled closer to Bo Yan's chest, and showed no intention of getting up.

My phone on the bedside table vibrated.

Mu Siwan reached out to grab it, but it was too short. Too lazy to move, she patted the abs of the person next to her.

"Could you get my phone for me?"

Bo Yan opened his eyes, lazily reaching for his phone. The screen was still lit; he glanced down at it and pursed his lips.

Caller ID: Meng Qing.

His hand, which was about to hand the phone to Mu Siwan, paused. His thumb hovered over the screen for a moment before sliding down to answer.

"Hey?" Bo Yan held the phone to his ear, his voice low and husky from just waking up. "You need something from my wife?"

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the phone.

Meng Qing's voice came through the receiver, businesslike in tone, but with a hint of displeasure at the end: "Mu Cheng has sent a lawyer to sue you for intentional assault. You need to come to the police station."

"Okay, got it." Bo Yan nodded, his tone casual yet tinged with coldness. "But I remember this is my business. Officer Meng, don't you have my phone number? Why are you calling my wife so early in the morning?"

Meng Qing's voice was equally blunt: "It's obvious that he asked Mu Siwan to pass on his message because he didn't want to hear your voice."

Bo Yan scoffed lightly.

"I'm really sorry," he said slowly. "Officer Meng still heard it. How was it? Did you enjoy hearing it so early in the morning?"

"It's disgusting."

Meng Qing hung up the phone after saying that.

Bo Yan glanced at the screen indicating the end of the call and clicked his tongue softly.

She doesn't want to hear his voice; she's clearly trying to steal him away.

Do you really think he can't see it?

Tsk, green tea.