Slow to mature after marriage

Mu Siwan opened her eyes.

In the darkness, she could make out the man's outline—his eyebrows, his nose, and the way his eyelashes drooped slightly as he looked down at her. And his eyes, dark and somber, reflected her image.

She suddenly realized that Bo Yan was also looking at her at that moment.

In the darkness, where only she could see clearly, they gazed at each other like this.

My heart is beating very fast.

Then the man leaned down again, his kisses sliding from the corner of his lips to his brow, from his brow to the tip of his nose, and from the tip of his nose back to the corner of his mouth, but he wouldn't let them land properly.

Mu Siwan was aroused by this subtle teasing and reached out to grab his collar and pull it down.

Bo Yan leaned down and chuckled softly.

"What's the rush, Mrs. Bo? The night is still long."

She opened her mouth to retort, but he shut her up the next second.

This kiss carried a hint of possessiveness. Bo Yan cradled the back of her head with one hand and gripped her waist with the other, as if he wanted to make up for all the kisses he had missed over the past two weeks. She was breathless from the kiss, her fingers sliding from his collar to his back, feeling his taut muscles through the thin fabric.

The winding snake pattern undulated beneath her fingertips...

-

The next morning, sunlight streamed in through the gaps in the curtains.

Mu Siwan opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling for two seconds.

It's all empty around me.

She glanced to the side—the blanket was pulled back on the other side of the bed, but no one was there.

There was no sound of water in the bathroom.

She sat up, stared blankly for a while, then got out of bed and went downstairs.

-

Aunt Chen was busy in the kitchen when she heard footsteps and peeked out. When she saw it was her, she smiled so much that the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes appeared.

"Madam is awake? Mr. Bo is back, he's in the living room."

Mu Siwan nodded and walked towards the living room.

She stopped halfway there.

The coffee table was piled high with gift boxes. They were all different sizes and colors, stacked from one end to the other, almost completely obscuring the table.

Bo Yan leaned back on the sofa, holding a cup of coffee in his hand. When he saw her coming over, he raised his chin.

"This is a gift for you, a gift from my business trip."

Mu Siwan walked over and looked down at the boxes.

Skincare products, cosmetics, perfumes, scarves, bags—all the items on Wang Jin's note.

"Thank you," she said.

Bo Yan hummed in agreement and lowered his head to drink his coffee.

Mu Siwan stood there, when suddenly she remembered something.

She turned and walked towards the entrance.

Bo Yan looked up at her back.

She walked to the cabinet in the entryway, pulled out a large, unopened box from the bottom, and carried it back.

"Here, this is for you." She placed the box on the coffee table.

Bo Yan glanced down, a hint of surprise flashing in his eyes.

"A gift for me?"

He paused, and his gaze towards the box shifted.

—It's not some random bone, is it?

Mu Siwan could tell what he was thinking.

"Not bones," she said, "the suit."

Bo Yan raised an eyebrow and reached out to open the box.

The dark gray fabric is visible, with a delicate feel and a clean cut.

He picked it up, glanced at it, then looked at her, his tone carrying a hint of meaning.

"You got the measurements so accurate?"

Mu Siwan was stunned for a moment.

The scene from last night flashed through her mind—in the darkness, he held her hand, guiding her to touch his shoulder, his waist, his taut back. The snake snake slithered beneath her fingertips, its scales slightly raised, his muscles rising and falling with his breath.

My ears started burning uncontrollably.

She tried to remain calm and met his gaze.

"I hadn't even touched it when I bought it."

Bo Yan raised an eyebrow and spoke slowly.

"Oh, that's a shame." He held the suit up to himself. "If you buy it now, the size will definitely be more accurate."

Seeing that he was deliberately teasing her, Mu Siwan pursed her lips and didn't reply.

Bo Yan glanced down at the suit in his hand, then at her serious face, and suddenly chuckled.

He stood up, picked up his suit, and walked towards the dressing room.

"Wait."

A few minutes later, he came out.

The dark gray suit accentuated his straight shoulders, perfectly tailored waist, and flowing trousers, making him look like he stepped right out of a magazine cover.

He stood in the center of the living room, straightened his cuffs, and looked at her.

"How is it?"

Mu Siwan's gaze swept over him.

"The shoulder line fits perfectly, and the cut is just right." She paused, "The waist-to-hip ratio is really accentuated."

"I've touched thousands of dead people, so even my visual estimation is quite accurate."

Bo Yan: "..."

-

Bo Yan, holding a tie, beckoned to her, "Come here, your suit..."

Mu Siwan walked over: "What's wrong?"

He didn't say anything, just casually hung his tie around his neck, letting the ends hang down, as if he were wearing a scarf.

"I'm not very good at tying them." He bent down, looked up at her, a hint of a smile in his eyes, "You help me."

Mu Siwan looked at the crooked tie around his neck, and then at his self-righteous face.

"I can't," she said.

"I know." The man chuckled, reached out and grasped her wrist, guiding her hand to his tie knot. "So I'll teach you."

His palm covered the back of her hand, its temperature burning hot. Mu Siwan was pulled along by him, her fingers touching the tie. The silky texture was cool and smooth, a stark contrast to his body temperature.

"You can teach others how to do it, but you don't know how to do it yourself?"

"No," Bo Yan said. "I can only teach."

Mu Siwan was too lazy to point out the flaws in his logic.

"First step," he said, looking down and whispering in her ear, "Go around it."

His hand led hers, wrapping the tie from left to right.

Mu Siwan lowered her eyes, looking at the two people's intertwined fingers.

His fingers were thicker than hers, with distinct knuckles, and his nails were neatly trimmed.

"The second step," he continued, "is to come in from behind."

Bo Yan's breath brushed against her ear.

Her eyelashes trembled.

His voice was low, with a hint of nonchalant amusement, as if he were teaching a student who was listening attentively.

But she knew that Bo Yan was deliberately slowing down his movements.

The tie twirled in her hand, but she couldn't remember it at all.

With her brows furrowed, Mu Siwan became serious.

"The third step," he said, guiding her hand through the newly tied knot, "tighten it."

She pulled it down.

Without much effort, he suddenly bent down and looked up to meet her gaze.

"Is she going to murder her husband again?"

He leaned close to her ear and lowered his voice.

"It's too tight, Mrs. Bo."

Mu Siwan relaxed.

The man's Adam's apple bobbed, and the faint scratch on his neck became visible with the movement—it was left by her last night.

"That's about it," he said.

Mu Siwan looked down at the newly tied tie knot.

It's crooked.

"It's crooked," she said.

Bo Yan looked down and offered words of comfort.

"Not bad for your first time."

Mu Siwan stared at the crooked bow tie, her brows furrowing slightly.

No.

She reached out and loosened the bow tie. Following the steps he had just taught her, she wrapped it around again, threaded it back through, and pulled it again.

I tried several times, but it wasn't right enough.

Bo Yan stood there, looking down at her with a smile on his lips, letting her do as she pleased.

After finishing the last loop, she stopped and looked him up and down.

This time it's positive.

Taking a step back, Mu Siwan looked up at him, a hint of a smile appearing in her eyes.

"Welcome home, Bo Yan."