Slow to mature after marriage

In the evening, Mu Siwan returned to Muyan Garden after get off work and found several suitcases in the entrance hall.

Wang Jin was directing people to move things into the house when he saw her and immediately stood up straight: "Madam."

Mu Siwan nodded, her gaze falling on the boxes—all dark-colored, made of leather, and looked very expensive.

It contrasted sharply with the mud-covered work boots hanging at her door.

"President Bo asked me to bring over his personal belongings," Wang Jin explained, "along with some clothes, books, toiletries..."

Mu Siwan hummed in agreement, changed her shoes, and went inside.

She stopped when she reached the living room.

A row of freshly unpacked suits sat on the sofa—dark gray, navy blue, and black—the fabrics clearly expensive. Next to them were a dozen or so cashmere coats, neatly folded. On the coffee table were dozens of exquisite boxes, from which one could vaguely glimpse watches, cufflinks, and pens.

She glanced down at the survey kit she was carrying.

The box was still covered in mud from today's event.

"Madam," Wang Jin approached cautiously and asked, "Where would be a good place to put these things?"

Mu Siwan thought for a moment: "Walk-in closet."

Mu Yanyuan's walk-in closet was very large, but she didn't need it at all.

All her belongings combined only occupied a small corner of the walk-in closet.

"That bathroom countertop..."

Wang Jin paused, speechless.

He remembered what he had seen in the restroom and unconsciously wiped away his sweat.

Pink bone soap dish, bone-handled toothbrush, bone-patterned towel...

He even saw several glass jars filled with water, containing the bones of some animal—or something else entirely.

I dared not think about it any further.

Wang Jin had the remaining things packed up and then hurriedly took his leave.

As he stepped outside, he glanced back at the window of Muyan Garden and sighed silently to himself.

No wonder Bo Xilai was unwilling to come back for three years.

Who would be willing to go back?

-

As dusk fell, Bo Yan entered Mu Yan Garden.

Upon entering the living room, she saw Mu Siwan sitting in front of the French windows, painting.

She was wearing a pink bone-inspired nightgown, her long, straight black hair casually draped over her shoulders, the ends of which were still dripping wet, soaking a small patch of fabric on her back.

Bo Yan casually carried his suit jacket, walked over, stood behind her, and stared at the drawing board, stunned.

The canvas doesn't depict any scenery or any figures.

It is a heart.

But it wasn't the kind of heart he had ever seen.

It was depicted as a fruit—plump, round, and deep red in color, but covered with thorns.

The thorns were fine and sharp, as if protecting something, or as if rejecting something.

Bo Yan narrowed his eyes slightly, finding it interesting and wanting to see her continue painting.

However, Mu Siwan stopped painting, turned the painting aside, and looked up at him.

"What's up?"

Bo Yan raised an eyebrow, finding her words unreasonable: "Can't I stand here if there's nothing wrong?"

"Sure, but I don't like people watching me draw."

Mu Siwan lowered her eyes and slowly put away her painting tools.

"Assistant Wang moved all your things over this afternoon, a lot of them."

She paused, her brow furrowing slightly.

"It has seriously encroached on my living space."

erosion.

Bo Yan raised an eyebrow.

The fact that she could utter this word suggests that the situation must be very serious.

He leaned back on the sofa, watching her put the paintbrushes back into the pen holder one by one. Her movements were slow but steady, as if she were doing something that required patience.

"How does it erode?"

Mu Siwan continued working, listing in a flat tone: "Your clothes take up more than half of the walk-in closet."

"In the bathroom, your toothbrush is next to my bone shelf."

"In the study, your books are piled up on the bookshelf, and there's no place for my spinal cupping set."

"And those watches, cufflinks, pens—"

She looked up at him, as if she had finally reached her breaking point.

"Next to my pink bone vase, there's now your watch box."

Bo Yan's temple twitched after hearing this.

"etc--"

He raised his hand to interrupt her, wondering if he had misheard.

"What bone skeleton? What spinal jar? And a pink bone vase?"

He paused, then slowly asked, "When did these things appear in our house?"

Mu Siwan blinked, then lowered her eyes: "It's always been here, ever since I moved here three years ago."

……OK.

He was negligent.

Bo Yan took a tour of the house and broadened his horizons.

She cleverly incorporated all sorts of strange and unusual things into every corner, so much so that you wouldn't notice them unless you looked closely.

He tolerated all of this, out of consideration for her being his wife.

but--

Bo Yan grabbed Mu Siwan's wrist and led her into the study, pointing to the glass jars next to the bookshelf.

Something was soaking in the jar; it was yellowish in color and irregularly shaped.

He called her name, emphasizing each syllable.

"Mu Siwan".

"Um?"

"And what are these?"

Mu Siwan walked over, stood next to him, and followed his gaze.

"Pig spine." She pointed to the first jar. "I bought it to practice with."

Pointing to the second one, he said, "This is a cow's shoulder blade. After processing it, we thought it looked good, so we kept it."

The third one: "This is the entire skeleton of a rabbit, which I assembled myself."

After saying that, Mu Siwan pursed her lips.

She knew that these things were unbearable for normal people.

So he took the initiative and said, "If you can't stand having these things in the house, I can move out."

She thought to herself, dealing with living people is indeed troublesome.

However, the man stared at her and frowned.

"Why should you move?"

Mu Siwan looked up.

"This is your home too," he said. "You've lived here for three years; if anyone should move, it should be me."

Mu Siwan was stunned.

She didn't expect him to say that.

So he casually suggested, "Then you move it."

Bo Yan looked at her, and the corners of his mouth twitched.

"Of course I'm not moving either."

After he finished speaking, he leaned back against the bookshelf, crossed his arms, and his gaze swept from the glass jars to her face, slowly curving into a leisurely smile.

"Mu Siwan".

"Um?"

"Have you noticed," he said slowly, "that you're quite an interesting person?"

She didn't speak, waiting for what would follow.

"You move when I tell you to move, and you stay when I tell you to stay," he said. "Why are you so obedient?"

"Because what you said makes sense."

Bo Yan raised an eyebrow: "What's the logic behind that?"

"This is my home," she said. "I've lived here for three years."

"so what?"

"So you have no reason to make me move."

Bo Yan chuckled: "Yes, that's exactly right. No one can make you move out of here, including me."

The two people stood there, one leaning against the bookshelf, the other standing in front of the bookshelf, with the glass jars between them.

After a while, Bo Yan made the first move.

"Keep these things," he said, pointing to the jars.

"The toothbrush holder too, the bone vase too," he said. "Put them where they belong."

"If you can't let go, just move to a bigger house and keep letting go. We're not short of money."

He paused, his gaze falling on her face.

"I have quite a lot of things too, I hope you won't mind."

"Let's even, okay?"

Mu Siwan thought for a moment and nodded: "Okay."

"besides--"

He paused, meeting her still calm eyes, his tone becoming somewhat lazy.

"Don't keep saying you're moving out," he said. "It's annoying."

After saying that, he went out.

Mu Siwan stood there, looking at the doorway.

After a while, she turned her head and stared at the glass jars.

The small bones inside floated slowly.