Slow to mature after marriage

By the time we finally left Disneyland, night had already fallen.

Mu Siwan's long hair was blown away by the wind and then tied into a bun, with a few strands of hair hanging down beside her ears. Her face still had the blush left by the roller coaster, and her eyes were full of lingering joy.

Bo Yan walked beside her, his silver hair was messed up by the wind, and his sleeves were rolled up to his forearms, which added a touch of unruly handsomeness.

This wasn't how he had imagined his date to be.

The carousel, the lights, the music—he was taking pictures, capturing every beautiful moment of hers. Beautiful, romantic, everything was under his control. Instead of being pulled onto a roller coaster, contemplating the meaning of life amidst 360-degree tumbling, only to come off with a completely ruined hairstyle and a shirt wrinkled like pickled vegetables.

Bo Yan turned his head and glanced at Mu Siwan's profile.

The light from the streetlamp melted away the tension she had maintained all day, and a faint smile curved her lips.

Bo Yan also curled his lips into a smile.

It's not bad now.

Although she still couldn't say "I like you," at least she wasn't averse to him. She didn't reject his kisses, didn't reject his advances, and even took his hand on the roller coaster.

Who cares about the white moonlight, the cinnabar mole, or whether Meng Qing is eighteen or an eighteen-year-old silver-haired boy?

Now, only Bo Yan is Mu Siwan's rightful man.

Rightfully so. He had never thought these four words carried any weight before. Now, thinking back, it was probably because he had never truly cared about anyone before.

-

Life went on as usual after I returned from Disneyland.

The only difference is—

Bo Yan began to express his love for her without reservation.

She often says, "I love you, Mu Siwan."

Mu Siwan initially found it strange and uncomfortable.

She eventually got used to it.

It's like a human-computer interface that originally only understood binary code suddenly being programmed with a completely new language. At first, it felt unfamiliar and strange, but after listening to it for a while, it didn't seem so bad.

Another weekend.

Mu Siwan and Fan Qiqi made plans to have dinner at their favorite barbecue restaurant near Jingbei University. The restaurant wasn't big, and the decor was a bit dated, but the taste had never changed.

Fan Qiqi had just returned from Egypt, and was even more tanned. She wore an orange windbreaker, and her bright white teeth were particularly striking when she smiled. As she piled meat onto the grill, she gesticulated wildly as she recounted her experience of getting lost in the Luxor Temple, and laughed heartily as she talked about what the Egyptians called her.

"You didn't see that uncle selling papyrus paintings, chasing after me shouting 'Cleopatra, the Queen of Egypt.' I suspect he has something wrong with his eyes."

Mu Siwan listened, a smile curving her lips, and placed the grilled meat into her bowl.

Fan Qiqi took a sip of orange juice, wiped her mouth, and finally changed the subject away from herself.

"How about you? How have you been lately?"

Before Mu Siwan could speak, she quickly added, her expression exaggerated: "Except for corpses—don't talk about them while eating. I've seen countless corpses in Egypt, mummies, row upon row. I have a stress response to the word 'corpse' now."

Mu Siwan picked up a piece of meat, chewed it slowly, and put down her chopsticks.

"My husband said he likes me and wants to have a relationship with me."

Fan Qiqi was stuffing grilled meat into her mouth when she paused. She blinked, swallowed the meat, and then calmly nodded, saying, "I knew this guy's face would get swollen sooner or later."

She put down her chopsticks, leaned forward, and her gaze became serious.

"And you, Wanwan? Do you like him?"

Mu Siwan frowned, deep in thought. She stopped eating, her chopsticks resting on the rim of her bowl, staring at the sizzling meat slices on the grill, but her gaze was fixed on something far away.

After a long silence, she finally spoke slowly: "I don't know if it counts as liking someone."

Fan Qiqi looked at her but didn't reply immediately.

She knew perfectly well what was going on. Given Mu Siwan's obliviousness to emotions, the very thought that crossed her mind about whether she liked another man already contained a great deal of affection. She wouldn't even hesitate to reject someone she truly disliked; she'd dismiss them outright. Why would she furrow her brow and carefully choose her words like this?

Mu Siwan must like Bo Yan.

But Fan Qiqi didn't intend to expose it.

Hmph, she was still very unhappy that Bo Yan had inexplicably set those three principles and then inexplicably gone abroad. Why should he have the final say in everything? He decided when she confessed her feelings, he decided when she set the principles, and now he decides when she wants to break them.

Tell him to wait a little longer, what's wrong?

"Then don't think about it." Fan Qiqi picked up her orange juice and took a sip, her tone becoming lighter. "Just let things take their course. The more you think about relationships, the more confused you get, so it's better not to think about them at all."

Mu Siwan nodded and picked up her chopsticks again.

The two chatted for a while longer, rambling on about nothing in particular. Fan Qiqi recounted the embarrassing incident of being thrown off a camel while riding in Egypt, talked about how blue the Red Sea was, and how she was asked to take photos with locals in Cairo, thinking she had become a celebrity, only to later find out that they just wanted her to take pictures for them.

Mu Siwan listened with a slight smile, occasionally interjecting a comment.

When the meat was almost finished grilling, she suddenly put down her chopsticks and said something completely unrelated.

"Qiqi, I want to try to find my biological parents."

Fan Qiqi was stunned for a moment, then smiled, her eyes curving into two crescent moons.

"Okay. I completely support you." She moved closer to Mu Siwan. "What are you planning to do? Do you need my help?"

"No need to do anything." Mu Siwan smiled slightly. "I'll go get my blood drawn and have my DNA entered into the national anti-trafficking database. If they've also tried to find me, we should get news soon."

Fan Qiqi nodded and didn't ask any further questions.

She knew that Mu Siwan's childhood in the Mu family hadn't been good, but Mu Siwan wouldn't say exactly how bad, and she didn't ask. But how good could a childhood be for someone who didn't even want to celebrate their birthday?

"That's great," Fan Qiqi said, lowering her voice as if afraid of disturbing something. "Does your husband know about this?"

I'll bring it up with him tonight.

Mu Siwan didn't know why she suddenly had the courage to go find her biological parents. Before, her mind was filled with thoughts like "What if they don't want me?", "What if they've forgotten me?", "What if they've moved on with their lives?"—countless "what ifs" piled up like a mountain, pressing her down and making her afraid to move.

But now, standing on ruins that no longer belong to her, she suddenly wants to take a step forward.

The fire on the baking tray gradually subsided, with the last bit of oil splattering once before settling down.

Fan Qiqi looked at her with a smile, reached out and placed her hand on the back of the hand that was on the table, and gently rubbed it.

"That's wonderful, Wanwan."

"Don't worry, happiness will come to you."