Slow to mature after marriage

Bo Yan sighed softly and leaned against the railing.

"Okay, then you go ahead and I'll listen."

Mu Siwan lowered her eyes, slowly began to draw on the beach with a twig, and began to speak slowly.

I went to the scene this morning; the case is closed. I had a boxed lunch for lunch, which wasn't very good. In the afternoon, the production team arranged a beach party, where we played a game called three-legged race.

"And then?" he asked.

"And then they lost, still coming in last place."

There was a hint of regret in his tone.

Bo Yan looked at the face on the screen—she had her head down, twigs were drawing lines in the sand, and stray hairs were being blown by the wind, sticking to her cheeks.

He scoffed softly, his mockery undisguised.

"Last place?"

"Um."

"Who are you paired with?" I asked deliberately.

Mu Siwan looked up at him, then lowered her head to continue drawing.

"An intern arranged by the production team, who is someone I mentor."

Oh.

It turned out to be an intern who didn't even have a name.

Bo Yan's lips curved into a smile.

The image of the two of them falling together on the beach was still swirling in her mind, but as she sat in the sunset, she earnestly recounted the day's events to him, her tone even carrying a hint of resentment at losing the game.

Only he could see this childlike side of her.

The anger suddenly dissipated by more than half.

The sea breeze blew by, ruffling the stray hairs on Bo Yan's forehead.

He leaned against the railing, looking at the face on the screen bathed in the warm glow of the setting sun, and suddenly chuckled.

"Then come find me."

He said, "Brother Yan will help you win."

Mu Siwan stared at him.

So where are you?

"Haicheng," the man said, lifting his chin slightly, "on that cruise ship directly in front of you."

On the beach, Mu Siwan's drawing with twigs was just a few strokes away from completion.

She slowly lowered her head and finished drawing the last petal.

It was a sunflower. The petals reflected the setting sun slightly, crooked and uneven, but still recognizable.

Mu Siwan threw away the branch, stood up, and ran towards the cruise ship.

The sea breeze tossed her hair back, lifted her skirt, and made her anklet dangle. She ran across the beach, across the wet sand where the waves had just receded, and past the props the production crew hadn't yet taken away.

Someone called her from behind, but she pretended not to hear.

They ran closer and closer to that white cruise ship.

-

Bo Yan ran down the gangway to meet her.

Mu Siwan then noticed that he was wearing a very formal suit. It was dark gray, with a clean cut that accentuated his straight shoulders and cinched waist. His tie was tied neatly, and the cufflinks gleamed slightly in the setting sun.

She ran to the entrance of the pier and slowed down.

She was panting, her hair was disheveled, and there was sand on the hem of her skirt. She stood in front of him, looking up.

"Why are you here?"

"On a business trip." Bo Yan looked down at her, his gaze moving from her messy hair to the sand-stained hem of her skirt, then back to her face. "I just stopped by to see you."

He frowned. "Your leg has just healed, why are you running?"

Mu Siwan didn't know either.

I only remembered that when he casually mentioned "on that cruise ship over there," my feet had already started moving. Now that I'm standing in front of him, I realize he's here on a business trip.

"Well..." Mu Siwan pursed her lips and took a half step back, "How about I leave first and not disturb your work?"

"Need not."

Bo Yan reached out and took her hand, leading her up the gangway.

"I need a female companion." The man glanced at her, a smile playing on his lips. "Where am I supposed to find one if you leave?"

Mu Siwan was led forward by Bo Yan, and she looked down at the hand he was holding.

They couldn't break free.

"But I'm dressed like this..."

"What's wrong?"

"Not very formal."

"Don't worry. Everything is ready. You just need to show up."

-

The room was on the third floor. Pushing open the door, a floor-to-ceiling window faced the sea. The setting sun dyed the entire sea surface a warm gold, and the light streamed through the glass, falling on the carpet, the sofa, and the perfectly made bed.

Bo Yan closed the door.

Before Mu Siwan could even see the room's layout, she was already pinned against the door.

His kiss landed.

It wasn't a test, nor was it restraint; it was the jealousy that had been building up all day finally finding an outlet. The man's tongue pried open her lips and teeth, hooking and entwining with hers. Mu Siwan was breathless from his kiss, her hands gripping his shirt collar tightly.

His fingers slid down her shoulder, brushing against her collarbone, his fingertips calloused, the rough touch leaving a trail of tingling sensations on her skin.

His hand continued downwards. Through the thin fabric, his palm rested on her waist, gently caressing it.

Mu Siwan's body went limp from his kneading, and she leaned back uncontrollably, her head hitting the door panel.

He pressed down on him.

The kiss slid from the corner of her lips to her chin, and from her chin to her neck. His breath fell on her collarbone, hot and burning.

His fingers were still moving downwards—

Mu Siwan turned her head and bit his lip hard.

Bo Yan stopped moving.

Mu Siwan was panting, her eyes were watery, and her eyelashes were slightly damp. The setting sun shone in through the French windows, tinting her cheeks a light pink, and her lips were slightly swollen and red.

But that gaze was still clean and clear.

"I need to take a shower first."

His voice was a little hoarse, with lingering breaths.

"It's so hot in Haicheng, I'm all sweaty. I feel uncomfortable."

Bo Yan stared intently at her, his Adam's apple bobbing.

"Let's wash together."

A hint of hesitation flashed in Mu Siwan's eyes: "Didn't you say there would be a banquet—"

"It starts at 8:30." He put his arm around her waist, lowered his head to kiss her, and chuckled softly as his lips touched hers. "We'll make it."

The bathroom door opened and closed, and the sound of running water was heard for a while, interspersed with intermittent splashes and small noises, all mixed in with the steam and indistinct.

The sound of water stopped later.

A long time passed before the door finally opened.

Mu Siwan was carried out by Bo Yan. Her hair was wet and dripping, soaking his shirt. Her face was buried in his neck, her ears were bright red, and her exposed calves were still trembling slightly.

A formal dress had been placed beside the bed sometime during the night. It was a light champagne-colored long dress, made of satin, fitted at the waist, and embroidered with tiny sequins on the hem.

Next to it, there was also a matching pair of underwear neatly folded—blue, with lace trim and thin straps.

It's exactly the same as the one he picked out at the hospital last time.

Mu Siwan stared at the blue for two seconds, her ears burning even hotter.

Bo Yan seems to have a particular fondness for this style.

It took another half hour to dry her hair. By the time Mu Siwan was all ready, the clock struck 8:30.

The banquet hall was filled with the clinking of glasses and the shimmering light of the crystal chandelier spilling across the floor. People in suits gathered in twos and threes, their laughter and the clinking of glasses creating a lively and almost dizzying atmosphere.

Mu Siwan tightened her grip on Bo Yan's arm without making a sound.

She's never been very good at these kinds of situations.

I don't know what to say, what to laugh about, or where to put my hands.

Noticing the woman's discomfort, Bo Yan turned his head and leaned close to her ear.

"Don't be nervous." He lowered his voice so only she could hear, "In this kind of situation, all you have to do is smile and enjoy the compliments. Your husband will take care of the rest."