Slow to mature after marriage

The next day was Saturday.

Bo Yan left early in the morning. Mu Siwan didn't know where he was going; she only heard the sound of a car starting downstairs, and then the whole house fell silent.

Mu Siwan sat in front of the easel, picked up a paintbrush, and tried to paint something. The brush tip landed on the paper, paused for a moment, and then lifted it again. The lines were crooked, the proportions were wrong, she frowned, erased and redrawn, drew a few strokes but still felt something was wrong, finally put the brush aside, and stared blankly at the messy paper for a long time.

I can't draw well.

How strange, what exactly does Bo Yan want to say to her?

A strange, inexplicable feeling welled up in Mu Siwan's heart.

She felt a vague unease, yet also a hidden anticipation.

She stood up and walked to Grace's glass tank. Grace was coiled on a branch, lazily flicking her tongue, seemingly indifferent to the world.

Mu Siwan opened the feed box next to her, pinched one pellet, and Grace swallowed it. She pinched another, and Grace swallowed that too. She pinched yet another…

"Madam! Please, please don't feed her anymore!"

Aunt Chen appeared behind me at some point, her voice filled with genuine panic.

She strode over, snatched the feed box from Mu Siwan's hands, and held it protectively in her arms.

"Grace has already eaten three meals today. If we keep feeding her, she won't be a snake anymore; she'll turn into a giant python."

Aunt Chen looked down at Grace, who was clearly bloated in the glass tank, and shook her head with heartache.

Look how full the child is! I hope he doesn't get hurt from overeating.

"Madam, is something on your mind?"

Mu Siwan shook her head. In her heart, she thought, "Right, since it's a date, I should dress up nicely."

So he turned around and went upstairs.

After trying on several outfits without finding them satisfactory, Mu Siwan collapsed onto the bed, somewhat dejected, and rolled around a couple of times.

Bo Yan is such an annoying person.

-

In the afternoon, Wang Jin arrived, followed by a large group of people. Stylists, makeup artists, hairstylists, and several others whose titles Mu Siwan couldn't recall, filed in, taking up most of the living room.

Mu Siwan sat in front of the dressing table and looked up at Wang Jin, who stood respectfully to the side, always maintaining a professional smile.

"Assistant Wang, is there a dinner party to attend this afternoon?"

Wang Jin smiled and shook his head: "My husband asked me to keep it a secret. Madam, you'll find out soon enough."

He shook his head again in his heart. Half a month ago, when President Bo took action against the Mu family, he asked him to revise the agreement. The agreement that "no feelings would be discussed" was written in black and white. However, he was speechless when he saw the newly drafted terms—the redistribution of marital property was practically laying everything out in front of Mu Siwan.

And look at the scene today...

Wang Jin was often teased by his friends for being love-obsessed, focusing solely on work and family after getting married. Now, seeing his boss Bo's current attitude, he had to admit—there are always people more capable than you, and the world is vastly different.

My own romantic fantasies are no match for President Bo.

Mu Siwan didn't get an answer from Wang Jin, so she simply stopped thinking about it. A makeup brush swept across her eyelids, as soft as a feather, and she leaned back in her chair, drifting off to sleep.

My shoulder was gently patted.

Mu Siwan slowly opened her eyes.

The woman in the mirror wore a misty blue long dress with smooth shoulders, the hem spreading out like water beside the chair. Her hair was styled up, with a few wisps falling beside her ears, each adorned with a small pearl. Her makeup was light, yet it accentuated her features—the coolness in her eyes was softened, adding a touch of gentleness.

She tilted her head, looked at herself in the mirror, and suddenly an idea popped into her head.

This hairstyle... makes me look like a princess from a fairy tale.

The hairstylist said gently, "Madam, what do you think of this style? If you don't like it, we can change it."

Mr. Bo specifically instructed that the hairstyle and clothing should not be too complicated, just comfortable and clean.

Mu Siwan shook her head, a slight smile curving her lips: "Thank you, I like it very much."

-

When Mu Siwan arrived by car, dusk had already fallen on the horizon.

The car was parked outside the amusement park's main entrance. Wang Jin opened the car door for her, and she got out, lifting her skirt as she looked up—

The entire Disneyland was as quiet as a painting frozen in time.

There were no queues, no children's laughter, and no cheerful music playing on a loop from loudspeakers. The castle stood quietly in the distance, its gray-blue spires blending into the twilight, and the lights on the walls twinkled like stars, creating a scene of tranquility.

The parking lot was empty, and the plaza in front of the gate was deserted. Even the wind seemed unusually still, only lifting a corner of her skirt as it blew by, gently brushing her ankles.

Bo Yan booked the entire amusement park.

Mu Siwan stood before the gate, momentarily dazed. She had seen Bo Yan give her gold, an anklet, and a bone puppy, but those things happened casually and naturally in the gaps of life. Unlike today—so solemn, so elaborate.

Wang Jin had retreated to a distance at some point, without anyone noticing.

Mu Siwan walked alone through the gate and into the town's main street. The shop windows on both sides were lit, with Mickey Mouse and Donald Duck standing behind the glass, smiling at her. The street was deserted; Mu Siwan's footsteps pounded on the cobblestones, each step growing more hurried.

Her skirt swayed gently behind her, the misty blue satin shimmering delicately under the warm yellow light.

After passing through the town's main street and around the square in front of the castle, at the end of the road stood a person, trapped in silent darkness.

Mu Siwan slowed her pace.

She recognized the figure.

Then the lights came on.

At the same time, golden lights poured down from the entire carousel—warm yellow light surged from the ceiling, falling on each of the wooden horses, on the central mirror pillar, on the ground, and on the men.

The music box began to play, its tinkling notes like musical notes drifting from the pages of a fairy tale. The rocking horse began to turn slowly, the light and shadow flowing with its rotation, spreading out in concentric circles.

Mu Siwan finally saw the person standing in the light.

Thin inkstone.

He wore a black suit, a white shirt, and a neatly tied tie. He stood there, his posture upright, his shoulders relaxed, as poised as if he were attending any important occasion.

But his hair wasn't black.

It is silver.

The silver hair fell above the man's brow bone, which should have given him a touch of unruliness, but at this moment he appeared extremely solemn.

He was watching her, ever since she appeared at the end of the road.

Mu Siwan stood still, meeting his gaze across the light-filled road.

Music was playing, the carousel was spinning, the lights were shining brightly, but the entire park was deserted.

He stood in that grand spectacle, waiting for her to walk over.

Mu Siwan gripped the hem of her skirt tightly, her fingertips turning white.

She is a very oblivious person; if no one breaks through that thin veil of secrecy, she can continue to pretend to be stupid.

But at this moment, strangely enough, she seemed to know what Bo Yan was going to say to her.