Slow to mature after marriage

Bo Yan glanced down at the neat bandage on his arm, wanting to say something.

For example, thank your wife for suddenly showing concern.

Then, out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the open survey box at her feet.

The top layer of the box was neatly arranged with tape, cotton swabs, and gauze.

On the lower level, the handle of the craniotomy saw is exposed, its metallic texture gleaming coldly under the light.

Bo Yan paused for a moment.

He glanced down at the delicate little bandage on his arm.

Then I glanced at the saw again.

Mu Siwan followed his gaze and saw the skull saw.

"That's for the dead," she said calmly. "You're perfectly healthy now, no need to think about it."

After saying that, she closed the suitcase, picked it up, and walked towards the door.

-

Bo Yan sat there, watching her back.

She stopped at the door and glanced back at him.

"What time are we leaving for the Mu family tomorrow?"

Bo Yan thought for a moment: "I'm free after 5 p.m.

"Then six o'clock," she said. "Go early and come back early."

The door closed.

Bo Yan looked down at the bandage on her arm. The tape was applied smoothly, with rounded edges, showing a serious attitude towards every body—every living person.

He remembered the saw again.

She's cold and aloof, just like her.

To be honest, having married such a sexually frigid wife, it's hard for him not to imagine—that one day that saw might be used on him.

After all, it was their first time meeting, and besides praising his beautiful nose, she also complimented his physique.

The original quote was—

"You are a very high-quality specimen, and I am very satisfied."

"Thank you," he replied, "but I'm twenty-five years old and have no intention of becoming a forensic specimen for the time being."

Mu Siwan looked at him earnestly, thought for a moment, and said, "It's okay. If we can get married, your body will belong to me."

Bo Yan fell completely silent.

He remembered that sentence for three years.

-

Mu Siwan walked to the garage, put the box in the trunk, got in the car, and started the engine.

As the car warmed up, she sat in the driver's seat, her hands on the steering wheel, and mentally reviewed tomorrow's itinerary: finish get off work at 5 p.m., leave at 6 p.m., arrive at the Mu family home at 6:30 p.m., have dinner, come back, and go to sleep.

If no one dies, there's enough time.

She recalled Xu Ruolin's words—"Don't let Bo Yan think you're not presentable."

Did I count as being on the front line when I bandaged him up just now?

It should count.

Mu Siwan felt that she got along well with her long-lost husband today. She expressed her concern, treated his wounds, and explained the purpose of the saw.

No problems. Family relationships are handled very well.

She shifted gears, reversed, and drove out of the garage.

-

Yesterday was the first time that forensic assistant Xiao Qin went to a crime scene, and she vomited as soon as she got back. She didn't sleep well all night, and after finally recovering, she saw a chicken leg on her plate at lunchtime. The meat was separated from the bone, and the cafeteria lady probably didn't cook it properly. When she bit into it, there was still blood in it.

"yue——"

Xiao Qin threw down her chopsticks and ran away, grabbing onto a trash can and vomiting violently.

Mu Siwan glanced up, then looked down again and took a bite of her chicken leg.

Hmm. The chicken wasn't bled completely when it was slaughtered, so the meat was a bit tough, but the chewiness was still okay.

Xiao Qin vomited into a trash can for half an hour. When he looked up, he saw his master still sitting there with a plate in front of him and a tablet next to him playing an autopsy video.

She walked back unsteadily and sat down in the chair opposite her.

"master……"

"Um?"

"Aren't you scared at all?"

"What are you afraid of?"

"Corpses, limbs...that's all."

Mu Siwan thought for a moment.

There's nothing scary about corpses. If someone is dead, they're dead. How they died and why they died are all there for you to find out by checking.

Living people are different.

What living people say isn't necessarily the truth, and what they do isn't necessarily justified. She's been observing for twenty-five years, and sometimes she still doesn't understand.

But it was too long to explain, so she didn't bother.

"I'm not afraid." She took a bite of her chicken leg. "Corpses are simpler than living people."

Xiao Qin was stunned: "Simple?"

"Hmm." Mu Siwan chewed on the meat, her gaze falling on the tablet—on the screen, a corpse was having its chest cavity cut open, "It can't speak, it can't lie, it can't suddenly change its expression."

She swallowed, then said, "It's fine."

Xiao Qin looked at her, unsure of what to say.

Mu Siwan didn't say anything more, and continued eating and watching videos.

She didn't say the second half of her sentence—

Living people are too much trouble.

That's why she likes to be around dead people.

He thought of the man from that morning, her legal husband.

He is a living person too.

It's really troublesome to suddenly have another living person in the family to get along with.

The law stipulates that they are husband and wife, and husband and wife should live together.

She accepted the rule.

That doesn't mean she likes it.

-

Bo Yan felt the same way.

In a private room, several of his friends hosted a welcome dinner for him.

After a few rounds of drinks, the conversation turned to him.

"I heard you didn't go back to the old house last night, but stayed at Muyan Garden?" Xu Qishan swirled his wine glass, a look of anticipation on his face. "How were things going with that forensic doctor's wife?"

Bo Yan crossed his legs, leaned back on the sofa, and lazily uttered two words: "Troublesome."

There was a moment of silence in the private room, then several people burst into laughter.

"Troublesome?" Xu Qishan raised an eyebrow. "Five million is deposited into the card on time every month, without even meeting in person. How is that troublesome?"

Bo Yan raised an eyebrow and smiled.

He remembered the bandage that morning; the tape was cut neatly with rounded edges. When she bent down to treat the wound, her eyelashes drooped, and her expression was no different from when she was treating a piece of flesh.

Then I remembered that saw.

And the way she looked at him—not the way she looked at her husband, but the way she looked at a specimen.

"Getting along with people is troublesome enough," he said slowly. "Getting along with a woman like Mu Siwan is even more troublesome."

"Which kind?" Zhou Qishen leaned closer, looking curious. "Not good-looking?"

"nice."

"Bad personality?"

Bo Yan fell into thought and finally came to a conclusion.

It's not that it's bad, it's that it's not available.

It was as if her emotions had been stripped away, leaving only the program running.

"It's not bad," he paused, then said, "it's just that there's nothing there."

Xu Qishan understood and chuckled, "Nothing? That saves trouble, doesn't it? Just what Young Master Bo wants."

Bo Yan glanced at him.

Saves trouble?

She was indeed very easy to deal with. She didn't ask about the itinerary, didn't check the phone, didn't whine or throw tantrums, accepted money as soon as offered, bandaged the wound when asked, and gave the departure time when asked.

But it was precisely this "convenience" that made him feel that nothing was right.

No, this kind of "convenience" should suit him just fine.

Bo Yan leaned back on the sofa, thinking to himself that, in this respect, he had a pretty good eye for choosing a wife.

"What's with that expression?" Xu Qishan leaned closer to look. "Why do I get the feeling you're not happy?"

Bo Yan glanced at him and frowned: "You're overthinking it."

Zhou Qishen added fuel to the fire: "Of course he's unhappy. He married a wife, but she doesn't take him seriously at all."

Bo Yan raised his eyes and said coolly, "Looking for death?"

Zhou Qishen raised his hands in surrender and said ingratiatingly, "I was just talking nonsense, good brother, please forgive me this time."

I'm deliberately trying to disgust him.

The man, unable to bear it any longer, kicked him: "Get out of here, don't disgust me."

The private room became lively again, and some people started shaking dice.

Bo Yan didn't move, holding his wine glass, and went through the scene from this morning in his mind again.

She stood at the door and turned to ask him what time he was leaving.

His tone was flat, and his gaze was flat, but he remembered that turn of his head.

Actually, there's nothing special about it.

It's probably because it's been too long since anyone has spoken to him like that—not flattering, not pandering, and not avoiding him.

He suppressed the thought.

No matter what, having another person in the family to live with is definitely a hassle.

However, she is his wife.

Since she was the wife he had personally chosen, he accepted the trouble.