Slow to mature after marriage

He swallowed back the joking praise that was originally on his lips.

Bo Yan straightened up slightly and stared at her.

The mint spun around on my fingertip and then stopped.

He just stared at her without saying a word.

Mu Siwan felt a little confused by his gaze and looked down at herself.

"What's wrong?"

He snapped out of his daze, popped the mint into his mouth, and took a bite.

A refreshing minty scent spreads.

"It's nothing." He looked away, reached out and opened the car door. "Get in, Mrs. Bo."

Mu Siwan bent down and sat down.

Bo Yan walked around to the other side, got into the car, and closed the door.

The car started.

Sunlight streamed in through the window, illuminating her. She turned her head to look out the window, the light outlining the soft contours of her profile.

Bo Yan glanced at it out of the corner of his eye, then looked away.

He remembered the first time he saw her three years ago; she was just like that—wearing a dress befitting a socialite, standing there gently and gracefully.

But now he knows that the woman in front of him is anything but gentle and graceful.

Strangely, he didn't think she was particularly beautiful at the time, at least not stunning.

Now I think it's almost too beautiful.

-

The car drove out of the city and headed north for nearly an hour before finally stopping in front of a vermilion gate.

The plaque above the door has two large, gilded characters: Chengyuan.

Mu Siwan got out of the car and looked up. The gatehouse was tall and wide, with flying eaves and brackets. Looking inside, layered pavilions and verdant pines and cypresses were faintly visible. This was probably the only household in this area at the foot of the mountain.

The rich heritage of the Bo family, a family with a history spanning over a century, can be glimpsed from this house.

Mu Siwan had been here more than once, and seeing this scene still shocked her.

"Let's go," Bo Yan said.

She nodded.

Passing through the hanging flower gate, there is a long corridor paved with bluestone. Birdcages hang under the corridor, and several thrushes are chirping happily. After passing the screen wall, the view suddenly opens up—a pool of clear water, several pavilions, and a rockery made of Taihu stones arranged in a pleasing and orderly manner.

Mu Siwan paused in her steps.

"What's wrong?"

"It's nothing." She looked away. "The building layout is well-designed, and the feng shui is good."

Bo Yan turned his head to look at her, a hint of a smile in his eyes.

"Forensic doctor Mu also knows about feng shui?" He paused. "The old lady will definitely be happy to hear that."

"I know a little bit." She said seriously, "Where the feng shui is good for burying a corpse is also related to my profession."

Bo Yan paused in his steps.

"...Okay." He nodded, unable to suppress the smile on his face, and then added, "You don't need to say the last sentence in front of the old lady."

-

The door to the main hall was open, and laughter could be heard coming from inside.

Bo Yan turned his head and glanced at her.

Mu Siwan stood still, her gaze fixed on the main hall. Her face was expressionless, but her back was straighter than usual.

He suddenly spoke.

"Do me a favor, Mrs. Bo."

Mu Siwan looked up at him.

Bo Yan took a step forward, turned slightly to the side, and extended his arm to her.

"Otherwise, the old lady would tear me apart with her bare hands."

Mu Siwan looked down at the arm.

She looked up at him again.

He wore his usual lazy smile, but there seemed to be something else in his eyes—something she couldn't quite understand.

However, when she returned to the Mu residence last time, Bo Yan helped her in the same way.

Husbands and wives should help and support each other.

It makes sense.

Mu Siwan raised her hand and took the man's arm.

Her movements were still a bit stiff, but more natural than last time in front of the Mu family's house.

Bo Yan glanced down at the hand tucked into his arm, a slight smile playing on his lips.

Instead of moving forward, he took another half step closer to her.

Then he raised his hand and casually put his arm around her waist.

Extremely fine.

He can cover it with half a palm.

Through the layer of cashmere fabric, you can feel the delicate and soft texture underneath.

Mu Siwan froze for a moment, then turned her head to look at him.

He stared straight ahead, his face still bearing that lazy expression.

"That's more like it," he said.

She didn't say anything.

But it didn't break free.

Bo Yan's fingers rested lightly on her waist, without moving.

His Adam's apple, however, kept bobbing up and down restlessly.

"Let's go," he said.

The two walked side by side toward the main hall.

Sunlight streamed in from under the eaves, falling on the two figures standing close together.

-

Laughter filled the main hall.

As soon as the two stepped across the threshold, everyone in the room turned their gazes toward them.

Grandma Chen Ruohua sat in the main seat, wearing a dark red silk cheongsam, the jade bracelets on her wrists gleaming warmly under the light. Next to her sat an elderly man with gray hair and a thin face, wearing a dark gray Zhongshan suit, holding a newspaper in his hand, who was looking over his reading glasses when he heard the noise.

Bo Qishan. The patriarch of the Bo family.

The old lady's eyes lit up when she saw the two of them come in hand in hand. Bo Yan's hand was still on her waist, he didn't let go.

"Grandma," he called out somewhat solemnly, then nodded to the old man, "Grandpa."

Mu Siwan then spoke up, "Grandma, Grandpa."

The old man glanced at her over his reading glasses, nodded, and put the newspaper aside.

The old lady was smiling so hard that wrinkles appeared at the corners of her eyes as she waved to them.

"Come here quickly, let Grandma take a good look at you."

Bo Yan led her forward and stopped in front of the old lady.

The old lady held Mu Siwan's hand, looked her up and down, then glanced at Bo Yan's hand on her waist, and nodded in satisfaction.

"That's more like it."

Bo Yan replied casually, "Of course, you can rest assured about what I do."

The old lady rolled her eyes at him: "I don't trust you to do anything, except this one thing you did alright."

Bo Yan laughed out loud: "Then thank you."

The old man spoke slowly from the side: "Don't stand, sit down."

The voice wasn't loud, but it carried an undeniable air of authority.

The old lady pulled Mu Siwan to sit down beside her and pointed to the opposite side.

"These are your second uncle and aunt, people you've met before."

Her second uncle, dressed in a Zhongshan suit, had a kind face and nodded to her. Her second aunt was dressed very elegantly, and when she smiled, fine crow's feet appeared at the corners of her eyes.

"Siwan, long time no see," her second aunt said with a smile. "You've become even more beautiful."

Mu Siwan nodded: "Hello, Second Aunt."

Two young people, a boy and a girl, who looked to be in their teens, sat next to her and respectfully called her "sister-in-law".

Bo Ning hopped over from the side and squeezed in to sit on the other side of Mu Siwan.

"Sister-in-law, you look so beautiful today!"

She leaned closer to look, her eyes shining.

"This lipstick color suits you. Is it a gift from me?"

Mu Siwan paused for a moment, then nodded.

"Um."

Bo Ning laughed even harder, turning to Bo Yan and gesturing with her chin: "Brother, look at the color I picked for sister-in-law, doesn't it match perfectly?"

Bo Yan leaned back on the sofa next to him, crossed his legs, and spoke slowly and deliberately.

"Your sister-in-law looks good in anything she wears; it has nothing to do with what you choose."

Bo Ning paused for a moment, then scoffed.

"With such a sweet tongue, have you taken the wrong medicine?"

Bo Yan ignored her, leaned back on the sofa, a slight smile on his lips, his gaze lingering on Mu Siwan's profile before slowly turning around and looking away.

The old lady watched this scene from the side, her smile growing wider. She patted Mu Siwan's hand.

"Siwan, today is a special day to introduce you to everyone. You've been married into the family for three years, and if someone hadn't been so busy, we would have had this kind of celebration long ago."

The person who was being subtly criticized sighed.

"It was my fault."