Slow to mature after marriage

The door opened.

The doctor stood at the door, holding a medical record in his hand, and paused for a moment when he saw Bo Yan.

He glanced again at Mu Siwan on the bed behind him, and then at his shirt, which was all wrinkled up.

"Who are you……"

"Her husband," Bo Yan said, his tone indifferent.

The doctor nodded, walked in, and began his routine questioning.

After asking a few questions and looking at Mu Siwan's feet, he began to make notes in the medical record.

As he reached the door, he paused and turned to look at Bo Yan.

"By the way," he pushed up his glasses, "try to avoid sexual activity during this time, as it's not good for recovery."

Bo Yan said expressionlessly, "You don't need to remind me of that."

He is not an animal.

I wouldn't do something so outrageous.

The doctor glanced at him again, his gaze sweeping over his wrinkled shirt, and then patted him on the shoulder meaningfully.

"Young man, even though you're newlyweds, you should still exercise some restraint."

The door closed.

The ward was quiet for a few seconds.

Mu Siwan sat on the bed, looking completely bewildered.

Bo Yan stood at the door, his back to her, and didn't move.

After a while, he cleared his throat and spoke.

"I'm going to buy breakfast."

Mu Siwan watched his figure disappear through the door.

She looked down at her wrinkled hospital gown and remembered what the doctor had just said.

Realized it too late.

My face slowly started to feel hot.

-

After finishing breakfast, Bo Yan moved his computer to the ward and began working.

The screen light shone on his face as he tapped lightly on the keyboard, occasionally stepping outside to answer the phone, his voice kept low.

Mu Siwan leaned against the bed, finished flipping through the stack of files, and wrote several reports. The pen tip scratched across the paper, mingling with the sound of him typing on the keyboard.

The ward was quiet and peaceful.

After finishing her last report, she put down her pen and suddenly felt uneasy.

That sticky feeling seeps out from under the skin.

Mu Siwan frowned.

As a forensic pathologist, she sometimes takes several showers a day. She showers after returning from a crime scene, after completing an autopsy, when she's in a bad mood, and when she's in a good mood.

But now—

She looked down at her left foot, which was in a cast.

I haven't washed it for three days.

She looked at Bo Yan.

"Thin inkstone".

He looked up.

"I want to take a shower."

The man stopped what he was doing and refused without even thinking.

"no."

Why?

"The doctor said it's not possible."

"The doctor said it can't get wet." She frowned. "I can find a way."

"That won't work either."

Mu Siwan looked at him, trying to find some room for negotiation on his face.

No.

She fell silent.

He lowered his head, staring at his left foot in a cast, and remained silent.

Bo Yan continued typing, but his eyes kept glancing at her out of the corner of his eye.

She kept her head down, her hair hanging down, obscuring half her face. Her expression was unclear, but her stubbornness could be felt even from two meters away.

He looked away.

After a while, she spoke again.

"Thin inkstone".

"Um?"

"I want to take a shower."

He closed the notebook and looked at her.

"Mu Siwan".

"Um?"

"no."

She pursed her lips and didn't say anything more.

Lie down, with your back to him.

He stared at the wall, saying nothing.

Looking at the curled-up figure, Bo Yan suddenly found it a little funny.

This little robot has even learned to protest.

He leaned back in his chair and chuckled slowly.

After a long time, Mu Siwan suddenly moved again.

She turned her head to the side, peeking out one eye from under the covers to look at him.

"Thin inkstone".

"Um?"

"I think--"

"no."

She pursed her lips even tighter.

Turn back and continue staring at the wall.

Bo Yan watched that retreating figure, a slight twitch at the corner of his mouth as he suppressed a laugh.

-

In the afternoon, Bo Yan received a phone call and went to the hospital corridor.

Mu Siwan stared at the closed door.

She slowly sat up, looked at her left foot, and then looked towards the bathroom.

Not far away.

She can hop across on one foot.

She had thought of it: she would wrap the plaster side with plastic wrap, several layers, to prevent water from getting in.

Bo Yan is a strange person; he won't let her take a bath.

She stood up, bracing herself on the edge of the bed, and tried to jump towards the bathroom.

Okay.

It jumped again.

The door was suddenly pushed open.

Bo Yan stood at the door, looking at her.

Then I looked at her foot, which was dangling in mid-air.

He took a deep breath.

"Mu Siwan".

Mu Siwan fell silent, and after a while, she said, "I just... went to the restroom."

Bo Yan stared at her meaningfully and smiled.

He walked over, bent down, supported her back with one hand, and put the other hand under her knees to lift her up in his arms.

Mu Siwan froze, raised her hand, and subconsciously grabbed the man's shoulder.

The man carried her into the bathroom, put her down, and helped her stand steadily by the toilet.

"Let's go."

He left, and even thoughtfully closed the door behind him.

Mu Siwan looked up at the showerhead on the wall.

She stood on one leg, tried to move a step in that direction, and reached up to touch it.

The next second—

"Mu Siwan".

A man's voice came from outside the door, lazy and with a hint of nonchalant laughter.

"I'm watching you."

"..."

-

Mu Siwan returned to bed, and Bo Yan covered her with the blanket again.

She leaned there, not moving.

That sticky feeling came back. From my back to my neck, and from my neck to my hair, nothing felt right.

She took a deep breath.

"Thin inkstone".

He didn't even look up, staring at the computer screen: "Hmm."

"I need to take a shower today. What do you want from me to let me?"

Bo Yan stopped typing, closed the laptop, and looked up at her.

"Unless you have someone watching you," he said, "what if you fall and hurt yourself in the bathroom alone?"

After he finished speaking, the ward fell completely silent.

Bo Yan looked at her and belatedly realized that what she had just said sounded like something a beast would do to take advantage of someone's vulnerability.

Honestly, he didn't mean it that way.

Mu Siwan's eyes were fixed on him, and she looked unusually embarrassed and annoyed.

He spoke instinctively.

"I can--"

Call Aunt Chen over.

"Okay, then you do it."

Bo Yan was stunned.

He met her eyes to make sure she was serious.

Then he burst out laughing.

"Okay, I'll do it."

Mu Siwan propped herself up on the edge of the bed and slowly sat up, trying her best to remain calm.

"Could you get me a bath towel and... clothes? They're in the closet."

Bo Yan walked to the cabinet and opened the door.

Inside, everything was neatly folded—hospital gowns and spare underwear were categorized and placed separately.

He took out the hospital gown, his gaze sliding over the fabric.

White, pink, and a light blue set.

Lace, pure cotton, all different styles.

He turned his head to look at her.

Are there any requirements regarding style and color?

The red mark behind Mu Siwan's ear gradually spread out.

"……No."

Bo Yan withdrew his gaze, his finger pausing briefly above the pile of fabric.

Finally, I picked up the light blue one.

The lace trim is delicate and gleams slightly under the light.

He likes blue.