Slow to mature after marriage

The next day was Saturday.

Mu Siwan once again successfully disrupted her biological clock, waking up to find it already broad daylight. She was now remarkably calm about such things, no longer even bothering to adjust her initial embarrassment.

What truly woke her from her drowsiness was the unusually hot temperature emanating from the body pressed so tightly against hers behind her.

It wasn't the usual warmth of a morning.

It's the kind of heat that makes you immediately furrow your brow in alarm when a forensic examiner's fingers touch your skin.

Bo Yan has a fever.

Mu Siwan turned over and met the man's slightly closed eyes. He was obviously awake too, but his brows were furrowed and his expression was not good.

"Bo Yan, you have a fever."

"I don't."

His voice was muffled and hoarse, with a heavy nasal tone, making his denial seem utterly unconvincing.

Mu Siwan didn't argue with him. She raised her hand and placed her palm on his forehead. The temperature was almost burning. She paused for two seconds and accurately gave him a number.

"39.2℃, you need to go to the hospital now."

"unnecessary."

Bo Yan turned his head away, avoiding her hand. Then, as if unwilling to give up, he buried his face in the crook of her neck, his hot breath from the high fever spraying all over the skin above her collarbone, making her tremble slightly.

He was very upset.

He had just finished talking about "the practice of being 28 years old" last night, and the next day he was burning up with fever. For Bo Yan, this kind of thing was probably more unbearable than the fever itself.

Therefore, it cannot be admitted. It absolutely cannot be admitted.

As if trying to save face, he nudged her neck forcefully, his lips close to her ear, and mumbled a harsh threat:

"I can do it with you eighteen more times."

Mu Siwan: "..."

He's been burned silly.

Mu Siwan rarely insisted, saying, "Don't talk nonsense, Bo Yan, you need to go to the hospital."

"Aren't we going to your master's house for dinner today?" Bo Yan's voice was muffled in the crook of her neck, with a heavy nasal tone.

"I'll tell my master," Mu Siwan reached for her phone on the bedside table, "that we'll go another time."

"It's not good to break the contract at the last minute. I also don't want to leave a bad impression on your master." Bo Yan reached out and pressed down on her wrist, his palm burning hot, but the pressure didn't lessen. "Don't worry, I'll just take a fever reducer."

Mu Siwan glanced at him. Even with such a high fever, he was still thinking about first impressions.

She pursed her lips and didn't insist any further.

-

The master's home is in the old town, in a residential building with a small courtyard. There are several osmanthus trees planted downstairs, and although it is not yet the flowering season, the leaves are bright green.

Bo Yan leaned on her shoulder the whole way, his eyes half-closed, listless, even his breath was burning hot. Mu Siwan touched his forehead; it was still hot, but a little better than in the morning. He took fever-reducing medicine, barely managing to bring his temperature down from 39.2 to around 38.5.

"We've arrived," Mu Siwan said.

Bo Yan opened her eyes, glanced at the entrance of the residential area outside the window, and then closed them again.

"……Um."

The car came to a complete stop.

Mu Siwan got out of the car first and turned to look at the man who was still sitting in the seat.

Bo Yan raised his eyes, his slender fingers reaching out towards her, his expression listless, but his words were a nasal accusation: "How cruel you are, Mu Siwan, you don't even know to help your sick husband."

Mu Siwan sighed, helplessly reaching out to pull him out of the car.

He carried the gift bag, weighing over ten kilograms, steadily and powerfully, but his legs felt weak, with most of his weight resting on her shoulders. He put his large arm around her shoulder and leaned closer—yet the weight on her felt strangely light.

Mu Siwan glanced at him sideways but didn't expose him.

When she reached the door, she raised her hand and knocked.

Almost at the same second that his knuckles tapped the security door, the weight on his shoulder suddenly vanished.

Bo Yan straightened up.

His back was straight, his shoulders open, and the sickly look he had just had was completely gone. A polite smile appeared in his eyes, gentle, composed, and impeccable.

The sick cat instantly turned into a thin cat.

He's a master of face-changing.

The door opened.

Li Jiliang stood at the door, his gaze first falling on Mu Siwan's face, he nodded, and then turned to Bo Yan.

He looked her up and down, his gaze sharp.

Bo Yan felt a tightness in his back from being stared at. He wasn't nervous about contracts worth hundreds of millions, but his throat tightened inexplicably, though the smile on his face remained unchanged.

"Greetings, Master." Bo Yan bowed slightly, his voice clear and bright, completely devoid of the hoarse nasal tone he had that morning. "I am Bo Yan, Si Wan's husband. It was my fault for not visiting you and your wife earlier."

Li Jiliang hummed in response, neither confirming nor denying.

A woman's voice came from inside the door: "Old Li, what are you doing blocking the doorway? Let them in!"

The master's wife poked her head out of the kitchen, her apron still covered in flour. Her gaze fell on Bo Yan's face, and she paused for a moment before her eyes lit up.

"Oh my, this is Siwan's husband?"

She walked over quickly, wiped her hands on her apron, looked Bo Yan up and down, and became more and more satisfied with her, her smile lines crinkling together.

"Come in, come in! You're so handsome!" The teacher's wife turned and glared at Li Jiliang. "You're standing there like a door god. Don't scare the child."

Li Jiliang was bewildered by the glare and stepped aside.

Bo Yan carried the gifts into the room. When she changed her shoes, she bent over slightly, but the movement was natural and showed no signs of discomfort.

Li Jiliang walked ahead with his hands behind his back, entered the living room, sat down, and pointed to the sofa opposite him.

"Please sit down."

Bo Yan sat down, his back straight.

The master's wife brought over some tea and placed it on the coffee table. She looked at Bo Yan with a smile, becoming more and more satisfied with him.

"Your name is Bo Yan, right? What do you do for a living?"

"I started a small business myself," Bo Yan replied.

"He's in business, huh? That's good, young and promising." The teacher's wife nodded in satisfaction, then asked, "How old are you this year?"

"Twenty-eight."

"Twenty-eight, three years older than Siwan, just right." The teacher's wife smiled from ear to ear, "She's good-looking and tall too, our Siwan has such good taste."

Li Jiliang picked up his teacup, took a sip, looked at Bo Yan from above the rim of the cup, and said nothing.

Bo Yan noticed the gaze, turned to meet Li Jiliang's eyes, and smiled.

"Master, Siwan told me you like fishing. I know a friend who has a nice fishing spot in the suburbs. I'll go with you sometime."

Li Jiliang put down his teacup and said slowly, "I don't go fishing with people I don't know well."

Bo Yan, shameless and unfazed, said, "It's alright, I'll get to know my master after a few more visits."

While the two men were talking, the teacher's wife pulled Mu Siwan to a corner of the kitchen, glanced back at Bo Yan who was talking to Li Jiliang in the living room, lowered her voice, and spoke with barely suppressed surprise.

"Xiao Wan, what kind of business does your husband run? How come he gives such expensive gifts so casually?"

"Who brings hundreds of thousands of dollars worth of gifts as a guest? Anyone who didn't know better would think they were there to propose marriage." The teacher's wife patted her chest, looking as if she was still shaken.

Mu Siwan didn't want to hide it from her, so she told her the truth.

The teacher's wife was stunned for a moment.

"Yanhe International?" she muttered twice, then suddenly gasped, "You mean... that Yanhe International that's on the news every day?"