Slow to mature after marriage

The next day, Yanhe International.

Wang Jin stood in front of his desk and had just opened the schedule when he heard Bo Yan speak slowly.

"I remember I'm going to Haicheng next week. What date did you meet with the partners for the Harbour City complex?"

Wang Jin replied, "Next Thursday. The other party is a newly emerging shipping group in the area, which holds the operating rights of several key ports. The government's approval has also been granted, and you need to go and inspect it in person."

Bo Yan nodded.

"Go and talk to them to see if we can change the schedule to tomorrow."

Wang Jin agreed and placed the documents in his hand on the table.

"Here's what you requested: information on middle-aged men aged 40 to 60 from the banquet at the Park Hyatt Hotel three years ago."

"It will take some time for me to investigate your wife's life from childhood to adulthood."

Bo Yan took it and opened it.

The photos scrolled past, one after another. Dressed in suits, with polite smiles, they couldn't overlap with the ugly, boastful face in my memory.

The man's gaze eventually settled on one of the cards.

His eyes were slightly cold as he pointed his finger at it.

"Is this person in talks with us about a project?"

Wang Jin leaned over for a look and nodded.

"Yes, we've been following up on that overseas logistics project for three months now."

Bo Yan closed the document, his tone extremely indifferent.

"It's stopped."

Wang Jin carefully considered his words before speaking: "President Bo, if we are the first to propose terminating the contract, we may need to pay the penalty for breach of contract."

Although this amount of money was nothing to Yanhe, he felt it was necessary to make things clear beforehand.

"We're terminating the contract?" A hint of surprise flashed in the man's eyes, but he quickly regained his nonchalant demeanor. "Wasn't it the other party who first dropped a huge scandal, violated the contract terms, leading to a broken cash flow and the company's bankruptcy?"

Wang Jin was stunned for a moment, then suddenly realized. A layer of cold sweat broke out on his back.

President Bo is trying to kill someone without anyone knowing. He has been by Bo Yan's side for many years and knows that this boss is decisive and efficient in business, but because Bo Hanzhang died twenty years ago in the deliberate revenge of his business rival, Bo Yan always leaves some room for maneuver in his actions.

There aren't many times when the methods are this ruthless.

Wang Jin lowered his head, his tone becoming more respectful than before.

"I misspoke, I'll make the arrangements right away."

-

My last day in Haicheng.

After the intensive autopsy work was completed, the production team arranged a party on the beach in the evening. It was ostensibly a "victory celebration," but it was actually a tradition at the end of each episode—to relax the nerves that had been tense all week and to record some lighthearted behind-the-scenes footage as a bonus.

The director also included a little game.

Teachers and students formed pairs and ran in three-legged races from one end of the beach to the other. Those who arrived first got to choose the local delicacies. Mantis shrimp, steamed sea urchin eggs, and garlic oysters filled the table, their aromas wafting on the sea breeze.

Mu Siwan wasn't very interested in food.

But she wanted to win.

Curly was assigned to her group and stood next to her as staff tied ropes to their feet.

He secretly glanced at Mu Siwan.

Mu Siwan wasn't wearing that cold, impersonal work uniform today.

A sea breeze blew by, and a light apricot-colored long dress draped over her, the hem lifting slightly to reveal her slender ankles. The delicate anklet shimmered in the setting sun, its bone pendant swaying gently.

The wind blew her long hair, and a few strands brushed against his arm.

A faint scent of roses wafted over.

It doesn't smell like disinfectant as usual.

The base of her curly ears started to get hot.

He silently repeated it to himself several times—

Married. Married. Married. Teacher Mu is married.

And her husband looks scary.

After repeating it three times, my heart finally calmed down.

-

Mu Siwan had no idea that the young man next to her was experiencing a flutter in his heart.

She stared at the red flag ahead, wanting nothing more than to win.

"Are you ready?" she asked.

Curly-haired guy nodded, his throat a little dry: "I-I'm ready—"

The whistle blew.

Mu Siwan grabbed him and rushed forward.

The three-legged race is all about rhythm, but her rhythm had no concept of "practice." Curly was pulled back two steps by the force, and as soon as one foot was lifted, the other foot was pulled forward by her.

Teacher Mu looks so thin, how come she's so strong?

"Teacher Mu, slow down—"

"If you're too slow, you'll lose."

"But--"

Before he could finish speaking, his foot tripped on her skirt.

The two of them fell straight down onto the beach.

Curly hair was half-lying on her shoulder, and she was frantically trying to prop herself up, her ears already bright red.

"I'm so sorry, so sorry, so sorry—"

Mu Siwan propped herself up on the sand and looked ahead—the other teams were crossing the finish line one after another.

competition is over.

the last one.

Mu Siwan sat on the beach with her arms crossed, staring at the vast sea in the distance, silently calming her emotions.

A three-story white cruise ship was anchored on the sea, bathed in the golden light of the setting sun. Figures moved about on the deck, their clothes fluttering in the sea breeze, creating a scene of tranquil beauty from this distance, like a quiet painting.

Just as she was about to look away, her gaze suddenly froze.

That slender, graceful figure—

Mu Siwan frowned.

Why... does this feel so familiar?

It seems like her husband, who should be far away in Beijing, is...?

After a moment's hesitation, Mu Siwan realized that she hadn't called him to let him know that she hadn't called him earlier that day.

So I turned on my phone and started a video call.

-

Bo Yan arrived in Haicheng this afternoon.

Mr. Zhou, the general manager of the shipping company, personally picked him up at the airport and accompanied him onto the cruise ship. On the third deck, in the panoramic restaurant, a route planning map was spread all over the table, and a group of people were waiting for him to nod. After several rounds of polite words and two glasses of champagne, Bo Yan listened to those words with a faint smile on his face, but his heart was not stirred.

I feel so stuffy.

He made an excuse to slip away from the crowd and leaned against the deck railing for some fresh air.

The sea breeze carried a salty, fishy smell. The setting sun bathed the entire sea in a warm golden hue, offering a beautiful view.

Fortunately, he spotted the group of people on the beach at a glance.

He spotted the woman in the light apricot dress at a glance.

She was tied to someone and stumbled forward. He recognized the person—the intern who had delivered the roses last time.

The two fell, and the man landed on top of her, his hand on her arm.

Get up and keep running.

I fell again.

They've hit it off again.

Bo Yan stared at that hand, watching it touch her arm, shoulder, and waist again and again.

I just want to chop that claw off.

The cup made a soft sound between my fingers.

What kind of lousy game did the production team come up with?

What's the point of running if you tie a man and a woman together?

Bo Yan didn't know how long he had been standing there or watching.

All I know is that the tightness in my chest is even worse than when I was socializing in the cabin.

Perhaps I should properly teach my human-machine wife what it means to distinguish between men and women.

Even if it's just a game, it won't work.

Bo Yan took a deep breath and turned to return to his cabin.

My phone vibrated.

Three words popped up on the screen—Mu Siwan.

His finger paused for a moment, then he pressed the answer button expressionlessly.

The screen lit up, and Mu Siwan's face appeared on the screen. The sea breeze tousled her hair, a few strands clinging to her cheeks, and her ears were tinged a pale pink by the setting sun. Her eyes were still clear and bright, staring intently at him.

"Bo Yan," she called his name, "where are you?"

He did not answer the question.

"What is it?"

The voice was quieter than usual.

Mu Siwan noticed his coldness and pursed her lips.

"I'm here to report to you about what happened today."