Slow to mature after marriage

When Bo Yan came out after taking a bath, Mu Siwan was already awake.

She sat on the edge of the bed, her hair a little messy, her eyes not fully awake, staring blankly at the morning light over the Alps outside the window. Hearing a noise, she turned her head.

Just as he was about to speak, Bo Yan spoke first.

"Miss Mu's sleeping posture is rather unremarkable."

The man's baseless accusations made her slowly furrow her brows.

"What...did I do?"

Bo Yan turned and walked towards the dressing room, his voice drifting over.

"Think for yourself."

Mu Siwan stared at his back, her mind replaying the scenes from last night.

She was still thinking about that kiss before she went to sleep.

Then I fell asleep.

And then—

The video feed was intermittent.

She felt as if she were hugging something warm.

It seems like... they're holding each other very tightly.

Could it be Bo Yan...?

Mu Siwan looked down at herself—her collar was askew, her hair was a mess, and she looked like she had just finished a battle.

She raised her hand to pull up her collar, her fingers hooking the fabric and tugging it upwards.

When Bo Yan came out after changing her clothes, she was sitting on the bed struggling with her neckline.

Sunlight fell on her, making her collarbone, which she hadn't had time to cover, appear white. Her hair was still messy, with a few stray strands clinging to her neck.

The man's gaze lingered on her collarbone for a second.

She looked up at him, her hand still clutching her collar.

"Sorry," she said, "I'm not a good sleeper. In a completely unfamiliar environment, my sleeping posture is... not very good."

Bo Yan's Adam's apple bobbed.

"Come out for breakfast."

He turned and walked towards the door.

-

The morning's filming didn't go very smoothly.

The sun shone brightly, giving the castle a completely different feel. Mu Siwan had changed into a new gown—an elaborate classical crinoline, cinched tightly at the waist, with gold embroidery on the cuffs. Her hair was styled in a medieval updo, adorned with a delicate pearl crown. Bo Yan stood beside her, wearing a dark gray stand-up collar coat with crisp shoulders and white ruffles at the cuffs, making him look as if he had stepped out of an oil painting.

Pierre changed angles several times, pressing the shutter button again and again, but his brows furrowed more and more tightly.

Halfway through taking the photos, he put down his camera and walked over to the two people.

He turned the monitor around.

"Look."

Mu Siwan glanced down.

In the photo, she and Bo Yan stand in front of the castle, sunlight falling on them, the lighting and composition flawless. She wears an elaborate crinoline, and he wears a high-collared coat, like a princess and prince from medieval Scandinavia.

The two did look at each other, but the light in their eyes didn't meet. Perfect, yet empty.

Pierre turned to the next page.

It's the one from last night.

In the darkness, he leaned down and kissed her, and she stood frozen in place. The distant Alps were reduced to a dark blue silhouette, and the lamplight fell upon the two of them.

Pierre pointed at the photo, becoming unusually serious.

"I want my protagonists to have that kind of look in their eyes." He paused, "Love."

Love?

The two looked at each other, both taken aback.

In last night's photo, was there love between them?

Bo Yan looked away from the photo, his expression remaining calm.

"There's no such thing. If you can't film it, find someone else."

"You, you, you..."

Pierre was furious and instinctively wanted to quit.

Then I remembered the price he paid.

That number was enough for him to put his professional ethics aside.

He scratched his head and chuckled sheepishly.

"Never mind, never mind, forget I said anything." He raised his camera. "Keep going, keep going, let's try a different angle."

The shutter clicked again.

Sunlight fell on the castle, and on her elaborate skirt. They stood side by side, just enough space between them for another person to stand.

-

After filming wrapped, the two returned to Muyan Garden.

It was already evening when Mu Siwan opened the door, and the living room lights were on. Grace, who had been curled up on the sofa armrest, raised its head when it heard the noise and flicked its tongue. Then it slid off the sofa, slowly swam to her feet, circled her ankle twice, and then nuzzled her calf with its head.

Mu Siwan squatted down and patted its head.

"Missing me?"

Grace rubbed against her again, and the spit-out spittle became even more enthusiastic.

She smiled, stood up, and went upstairs to change her clothes.

Aunt Chen poked her head out from the kitchen.

"Your wife is back? I made some lotus root and pork rib soup. You can have a bowl later."

Mu Siwan nodded.

"Thank you, Aunt Chen."

-

Bo Yan went straight into the study.

The door closed, and he sat down in the chair, raising his hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. Dusk was falling outside the window, and the light from the computer screen reflected on his face, revealing a hint of weariness.

My phone vibrated.

Wang Jin's name popped up on the screen.

He pressed the answer button.

"President Bo, everything in the UK has been arranged," Wang Jin's voice came from the other end. "As you said, we'll be flying to London in five days; the application for the private flight has been approved."

Bo Yan hummed in agreement.

Wang Jin paused for a moment, then spoke again.

"It will take at least two months there, are you sure..." Her tone was hesitant. "Although the branch office needs someone to keep an eye on things, it doesn't necessarily have to be you going in person. Vice President Zhou said before that he could do it for you."

"Sure."

"And what about your wife..." Wang Jin asked tentatively, "Should I tell her, or will you do it yourself..."

"Need not."

Bo Yan's voice was unreadable.

Wang Jin paused again.

"Two months isn't a short time," he said softly. "And what about my wife..."

"She won't care." Bo Yan leaned back in his chair, his gaze fixed on the deepening twilight outside the window. "We agreed not to interfere with each other."

There was no further response on the other end of the phone.

"...Okay, Mr. Bo."

The call has ended.

Bo Yan placed his phone on the table, his gaze sweeping around the study before finally settling on the row of bones on the bookshelf.

Glass jars of various shapes, with bones floating quietly inside.

He stared at it for a few seconds, then slowly closed his eyes.

Two months. When I come back, everything will be back to normal.

There was a knock on the study door.

"Mr. Bo," Aunt Chen's voice came from outside the door, "I made lotus root and pork rib soup. Madam asked if you would like some, it's going to get cold soon."

Bo Yan opened his eyes.

The wife asked.

He stared at the door for two seconds, his voice hoarse.

"Okay, coming right away."

-

Bo Yan sat down at the dining table and picked up the bowl of soup.

The aroma of lotus root wafted up, warm and slightly sweet. He took a sip, but his gaze drifted past the rim of the bowl and landed on the living room.

Mu Siwan sat on the sofa, a sketchbook open on her lap, a pen in her hand, head down, intently drawing something. Her hair hung down, obscuring half her face. Light fell from above, enveloping her entirely.

She was immersed in her own world.

The two were separated by the entire living room, with the light drawing a boundary on the floor between them.

Bo Yan stared at the boundary for a while, then took another sip of soup.

"Mu Siwan".

He spoke, but his voice was soft.