Slow to mature after marriage

Near the end of the workday in the afternoon, Mu Siwan received a message from Bo Yan.

[Bo Yan]: I have to work overtime today, so I can't pick you up. I called Wang Jin over.

She stared at the line of text for a few seconds.

Then I breathed a sigh of relief.

It's not disappointment. It's a sense of relief.

She...is still unable to interact normally with Bo Yan.

I can't tell if it's anger or something else. The spot where he bit me this morning doesn't hurt anymore, but the tingling sensation seems to linger, occasionally creeping up from behind my ear.

She replied with an "okay".

-

After get off work, Wang Jin came to pick her up.

The car drove out of the appraisal center and headed towards Muyan Garden.

After driving for a while, Wang Jin suddenly spoke.

"Madam, I'm sorry, my wife asked me to go to the mall to pick up something for her. Could you please wait for me for twenty minutes?"

Mu Siwan nodded.

"Okay, it's fine. I'm not in a hurry to go home."

She's definitely not in a hurry.

If she goes back now, and Bo Yan is home, she doesn't know how she'll face him.

She herself felt that the anger she had in the morning was inexplicable.

He bit her, and she got angry. But when he asked her if it hurt, she couldn't say.

That's very strange.

-

Forty minutes later, the car stopped at the entrance of Muyan Garden.

Dusk was falling, with the last vestiges of orange-red on the horizon. The living room lights were off, and the whole house was bathed in the warm glow of the twilight, as if it had been gilded.

She pushed open the car door and slowly walked inside, leaning on her cane.

Grace appeared out of nowhere and circled her ankle twice. She looked down and stroked its head, then looked up—

stunned.

The kitchen was lit by a warm yellow light.

Bo Yan stood in front of the kitchen counter, his back to her. He was wearing a black shirt today, the sleeves rolled up to his forearms, and a dark gray apron tied around his waist. The light outlined his shoulder line, and his whole body was enveloped in that warm light.

She was stunned.

My footsteps stopped in the entryway; I forgot to change my shoes.

The living room has changed.

A new tablecloth, off-white with drooping edges, was laid on the dining table. Several candles were lit, their flames flickering gently. The vase no longer held a bunch of sunflowers; instead, it contained a cluster of pink tulips, blooming delicately.

The air was filled with the aroma of grilled steak, mixed with a hint of buttery sweetness.

She stood there, watching the figure receding into the kitchen.

Black shirt, apron, spatula.

Mu Siwan actually found it difficult to associate the latter two things with Bo Yan.

"Weren't you...working overtime?"

The man turned around.

He was holding a plate, and the steak was still sizzling.

The candlelight reflected on his face, illuminating his eyes. He looked at her, and the corners of his lips slowly curved into a smile.

"Weren't you angry?"

He walked over, placed the plate on the table, and looked up.

"I'll cook for you myself to cheer you up."

Mu Siwan stood still, without moving.

She looked at his face in the candlelight, at the nonchalant smile on his lips, and suddenly didn't know what to say.

"You don't have to do this."

She heard herself speak, her voice slightly unsteady.

"I wasn't angry this morning."

Not angry.

It just feels weird.

The way he bit her was strange, the way her heart raced was strange, the way she didn't want to look at him while sitting in the car, and the way her ears were still burning after getting out of the car—everything was strange.

The same is true now.

Now she was staring at him, the candlelight reflecting in his eyes, making that hint of a smile exceptionally clear.

My heart skipped a beat.

It jumped again.

That's even stranger.

She looked away, somewhat uncomfortably.

Perhaps... it's normal for a respectful couple to occasionally have a candlelight dinner together.

Right?

She wasn't quite sure.

Just as they were hesitating, Bo Yan's voice came over.

"Aren't you coming over for dinner?" he said slowly, leaning against the table. "Do you want me to carry you over?"

Mu Siwan's ears burned.

"No need," she quickly replied, "I can manage on my own."

She changed her shoes, leaned on her cane, and walked step by step toward the dining table.

Bo Yan stood still and watched her walk over.

The sound of the cane hitting the ground was particularly clear in the quiet living room.

When she reached him, she stopped and looked up.

His gaze fell on those ears, which were still red.

She lowered her eyes and didn't look at him.

Bo Yan chuckled softly.

"Please sit down."

-

The restaurant was quiet.

The cutlery occasionally struck the porcelain plate, producing a crisp sound that echoed gently in the warm, yellow candlelight.

The steak was cooked to perfection. The outside was slightly charred, and when you cut into it, the juices seeped out, releasing an aroma of black pepper and butter that slowly filled the air.

Mu Siwan kept her head down and cut very carefully.

One cut, another cut, and yet another.

Each piece was cut to the same size and arranged neatly.

Bo Yan leaned back in his chair, holding a wine glass as he looked at her.

The candlelight illuminated her profile, casting a pale gold hue on her drooping eyelashes. She was cutting with intense focus, her brow slightly furrowed, meticulous and earnest.

Bo Yan looked down at the steak on his plate.

I picked up the knife and fork and made a couple of random cuts.

One piece was cut crookedly, another was cut into pieces, and yet another had tendons that couldn't be cut no matter what.

He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye.

She was still cutting her own portion and didn't notice.

He made two more cuts, and the knife and fork made a crisp sound as they hit the plate.

Mu Siwan looked up.

My gaze fell on his plate and paused.

The steak pieces varied in size and shape, some were thick and some were thin, and some were even stuck together.

It is clear that the cow's carcass was not treated with respect.

Her brow furrowed.

"you……"

Bo Yan put down his knife and fork, leaned back in his chair, and looked completely innocent.

"This steak is a bit tough."

Mu Siwan stared at the steak with tendons that she couldn't cut no matter what, and remained silent for two seconds.

"Let me cut it for you."

Unable to bear it any longer, she reached out, took his plate, and pushed her own cut portion in front of him.

You eat mine first.

The knife and fork landed on the crooked steak, cutting it neatly, one slice at a time.

Bo Yan forked a piece of steak that she had cut and put it in her mouth.

Seeing the woman's focused and serious expression, he couldn't help but laugh out loud again.

He waited until she had cut the last piece before he slowly spoke.

"Mu Siwan".

She looked up.

The candlelight flickered in his eyes, casting his thoughts on and off.

"Have you ever thought," Bo Yan began, his tone slower than usual, "that our relationship could actually be changed a little?"

For example, get closer.

For example, let's put those three principles aside for a while.

Rules are dead, people are alive.

A hint of confusion appeared in Mu Siwan's eyes.

"...How about changing it?"

What does that mean?

Does he no longer want to maintain a long-term, stable marital relationship?

Mu Siwan lowered her eyes, forked a piece of steak, and put it in her mouth. The juices exploded on her tongue; it was perfectly cooked, and the flavor was just right.

She swallowed, looked up at him, and saw helplessness in her eyes.

"I really like our current relationship and don't really want to change it."

She spoke each word slowly and deliberately, earnestly and sincerely.

Bo Yan looked at the woman's resolute gaze and sighed inwardly, but nodded calmly on the surface.

"Okay, I understand."

It seems he was too hasty.

It's okay, they have a very long time to take their time.