Slow to mature after marriage

After Bo Yan finished speaking, the room was quiet for a few seconds.

Mu Siwan sensed a hidden meaning in his words.

But she couldn't figure out where the mockery came from.

Logically, a couple who are not familiar with each other should maintain a polite distance.

After thinking it over, she came to a conclusion: Bo Yan might not be very polite.

However, considering the five million per month, she nodded and said, "Welcome."

Bo Yan gave a half-smile and said, "Thank you."

Mu Siwan asked, "Will you be sleeping here from now on?"

"If nothing unexpected happens, yes. The overseas business has been brought back to China."

Bo Yan turned her head to look at her and asked, "This is my house, can't I sleep here?"

Mu Siwan nodded: "Yes."

It's normal for couples to sleep together.

She accepts this kind of normalcy in the conventional sense.

That concludes the discussion.

Bo Yan waited for her to continue, but she had already stood up and walked towards the dressing room.

Even his back view exuded indifference.

He watched that figure disappear into the distance, and mentally went over the conclusion again.

Man-machine.

But even a human-machine interface is good. It perfectly meets all his requirements for this marriage—

Let's not talk about feelings.

No interference.

Be a respectful but unfamiliar couple.

-

After changing my clothes and going downstairs, Aunt Chen had already set out breakfast.

My phone vibrated.

Mu Siwan glanced at the screen and pressed answer.

It was her adoptive mother, Xu Ruolin.

"Siwan, Mom has something to ask you. Tell me the truth." Xu Ruolin's voice was very gentle.

"Um."

"How has Bo Yan treated you since he came back this time?"

Mu Siwan thought for a moment.

How is it?

I had just woken up in the morning when he lay down next to me and said, "I'm sorry to disappoint you, Forensic Doctor Mu, I won't be increasing your workload for now."

She said, "Welcome home," and he said, "Thank you."

She asked if she would be sleeping here from now on, and he said it was his home and she couldn't sleep there.

After thinking for three seconds, she concluded, "It's alright."

What does "not bad" mean?

"No arguing or making a scene, just speaking normally."

Xu Ruolin was probably taken aback by this answer.

After a few seconds, Xu Ruolin said, "That's good. Siwan, remember, the marriage between the Mu family and the Bo family is no small matter, so don't act impulsively."

"I know."

"It's good that you know," Xu Ruolin's tone softened. "Mom is doing this for your own good. If even Bo Yan doesn't side with you in the Bo family, how will you manage in the future?"

Mu Siwan did not respond.

Xu Ruolin waited for a while, then sighed, "Alright, go eat. Tomorrow is your father's birthday, remember to bring Bo Yan along."

"I don't know if he's free, I'll ask."

"it is good."

Xu Ruolin gave a few more words of advice—be sensible, don't embarrass the Mu family, and don't let Bo Yan think she's not presentable. Her tone was still gentle and soft, sounding like she was concerned.

After listening, Mu Siwan said "I understand" and hung up the phone.

She put her phone on the table and picked up her chopsticks.

Aunt Chen asked quietly from the side, "Madam, the porridge is cold. Shall I heat up a bowl for you?"

"Need not."

She lowered her head and continued eating.

-

Mu Siwan didn't hide from people when she answered the phone.

Or rather, she wasn't even aware that she needed to avoid it.

Bo Yan came down the stairs and overheard her saying "Hmm," "I know," and "Let me ask" into the phone.

He stood at the top of the stairs for a while—she was sitting at the dining table, holding her phone in one hand and resting the other on the table. She looked relaxed, but the knuckles of the hand holding the phone were a little white.

After hanging up the phone, she picked up her chopsticks and began to drink her porridge.

Bo Yan walked over, sat down opposite her, and took the initiative to start a conversation.

"Whose call was that?"

Mu Siwan looked up at him, then looked down again: "My mother."

"What did you say?"

She swallowed what was in her mouth before replying, "Tomorrow is my adoptive father's birthday. I was asking if you're free to go."

Mom, adoptive father.

A form of address that clearly distinguishes between close and distant relationships.

Bo Yan didn't miss this detail; he raised an eyebrow: "What did you say?"

"Let me ask you."

"Okay." He placed his hand on the table, his eyes slightly lowered. "Then ask me now."

She looked at him, thought for a moment, and then spoke.

Are you going?

The tone was very flat, like asking if the weather was nice today.

Bo Yan looked at her for a while, then suddenly smiled.

"go."

She nodded and continued eating her porridge.

Bo Yan leaned back in his chair, staring at his wife whom he hadn't seen in a long time.

It's too much like a human.

The human-machine interaction... is actually quite interesting.

-

After finishing her meal, Mu Siwan stood up to leave. Xu Ruolin's last words were still echoing in her mind—"Don't let Bo Yan think you're not presentable."

What does it mean to be considered lowbrow or unpresentable?

She didn't understand.

So she stood there, her gaze falling on Bo Yan and beginning to scan him.

From top to bottom, and from bottom to top, it's like going through a CT scan.

Bo Yan was drinking his porridge when he suddenly felt a chill on the back of his neck. He looked up and saw Mu Siwan staring at him, her gaze calm and expressionless—not the kind of gaze one gives to a person, but the kind that looks at a sample.

He put down his spoon.

"What's up?"

Mu Siwan paused for two seconds.

Nothing.

But she remembered that as a wife, she should express her concern appropriately. This should be part of what is "presentable."

Her gaze shifted downwards and landed on his arm.

His hand rested on the edge of the table, sleeve rolled up, revealing the cut from yesterday's car accident. The wound wasn't deep, but he probably hadn't noticed when he washed his hands; the skin around the edges was a bit whitish from being soaked.

"Your wound has turned white from being soaked in water."

Bo Yan glanced at her, then looked up at her again, looking puzzled: "So?"

She thought for a moment and said seriously, "Living tissue that has been immersed in water for a long time will have its stratum corneum softened and its barrier function damaged, which will increase the risk of infection."

Bo Yan choked for a moment.

"Do you need me to help you with this?" she asked.

Bo Yan put down her chopsticks, leaned back, and seemed intrigued: "How should we handle this? Like we would with your other clients?"

Mu Siwan felt that his question was unreasonable.

"You're a living person." She looked at him, her tone flat. "Living people use iodine, sterile gauze, and waterproof dressings. It's not the same procedure."

Bo Yan nodded and slowly said, "Then—"

He drew out his words, paused, and waited for her reply.

"I'll bandage you up, as your wife."

Mu Siwan then said.

She turned and walked to the entryway, opening the forensic examination kit. The kit had two layers; the top layer contained everyday items—she rummaged through it, pulling out a roll of medical tape from a hidden compartment, along with iodine swabs and a pack of sterile gauze.

Bo Yan leaned back in his chair, watching her walk back carrying her things.

"hand."

He obediently placed his arm on the table.

Mu Siwan lowered her head, her gaze falling on his hand.

The phalanges are slender, with no obvious enlargement at the joint ends; the third phalanx is slightly longer than the fourth phalanx.

A thought flashed through her mind: This hand should be very steady when performing detailed dissections.

Then she looked away and began to treat the wound.

The iodine swab was gently and steadily applied to the edge of the wound, as if it had been done many times before.

Looking at her drooping eyelashes, Bo Yan suddenly asked, "How many times have you practiced this technique?"

"I haven't counted." She didn't look up. "I deal with fewer living people, but the principle is similar."

Bo Yan: "..."

She cut a piece of gauze, folded it, placed it on the wound, and then secured it with tape. The tape was stretched flat, with rounded ends, and applied smoothly.

"Okay." She stopped. "We don't have any waterproof dressings at home, so be careful when you shower."