Slow to mature after marriage

"You filthy beast!" His voice boomed in the interrogation room. "What trouble have you gotten yourself into now? This time you've even made it to the police station!"

The slap landed quickly and heavily, turning Mu Sigui's face to the side, a trickle of blood seeping from the corner of his mouth. He didn't move or make a sound, but slowly turned back, calmly staring at Mu Cheng.

That glance sent a chill down Mu Cheng's spine. He raised his voice, "What are you looking at? Did I hit you wrong? Go back and kneel in the ancestral hall to reflect on your actions."

After saying this, Mu Cheng turned around, his anger replaced by a smile. He walked towards Zheng Hongyuan, his back slightly bent, his tone low and soft.

"Mr. Zheng, this...this must be some misunderstanding..." He rubbed his hands, his voice trembling with a hint of pleading. "This child has always been immature and has a strange temper, but he would never dare to kill someone. Don't worry, I'll definitely teach him a lesson when I get back—"

The name Zheng Hongyuan is synonymous with success in Beijing's real estate circle. The Zheng family acquired 60% of several prime urban redevelopment projects in northern Beijing. Even with the sluggish real estate market in the past two years, the Zheng family's businesses continue to thrive, with banks lining up to lend to them.

Mu Cheng couldn't afford to offend this person, nor did he dare to.

Zheng Hongyuan sat in his chair, his gaze shifting from the report to Mu Cheng's face. He had been in the business world for decades; he'd seen it all. His son's death had nearly driven him mad, but now he had pulled himself out of that immense grief.

Zheng Hongyuan knew perfectly well that in the past, someone like Mu Cheng wouldn't even have the right to speak to him. But he was just lucky; his daughter, whom he had raised casually, had somehow managed to climb up the social ladder by marrying into the powerful Bo family.

The news of the Bo and Mu families' collaboration on an artificial intelligence project was known throughout Beijing. At this point, Zheng Hongyuan really couldn't do anything to Mu Cheng. As the saying goes, even when beating a dog, one must consider its owner; he didn't need to offend the excessively young and ruthless CEO of Yanhe International just to vent his anger.

He took a deep breath, and when he spoke, his voice was already low and unreadable.

"Let's wait for the investigation results. If it really has nothing to do with your son, I won't wrong him."

-

Time passed second by second.

The interrogation room was so quiet you could hear the ticking of the clock on the wall. Each tick, slow and deliberate, struck a nerve. Mu Cheng stood there, hunched over, the smile on his lips long since frozen.

Everyone paused for a moment when the phone rang.

Mu Siwan glanced down at the screen; Bo Yan's name was highlighted there. Her eyes flickered slightly, and she pressed the answer button, her voice low but just loud enough for everyone in the interrogation room to hear clearly.

"Hey, honey. What's up?"

Mu Cheng straightened his back slightly.

"I'm at the police station, so it's not convenient for me to answer the phone right now."

She responded softly to what was said on the other end.

"Okay, then come pick me up."

The call ended, and Mu Siwan put her phone away. Zheng Hongyuan leaned back in his chair, his gaze sweeping over Mu Siwan's face, his fingers tapping lightly on the table. Mu Cheng unconsciously straightened up a bit, even his breathing became easier.

The results of the second test came out quickly.

Exactly the same as the previous two times. Sudden cardiac death, congenital cardiomyopathy, excessive alcohol consumption, no signs of homicide. After reading the report, Zheng's mother's voice rose again, and she pointed her finger in Mu Sigui's direction—

"Shut up."

Zheng Hongyuan slapped her hard across the face, the sound ringing out clearly. Zheng's mother covered her face, her sobs choking back.

Zheng Hongyuan straightened his cuffs and turned to Mu Cheng. His gaze lingered on Mu Cheng's face for a moment before finally settling on Mu Siwan standing to the side.

"It was my wife's impatience that led her to wrong your son." He spoke softly, but each word was enunciated clearly. "Another day, I, Zheng, will personally visit your home to apologize to your son."

After saying that, he turned and walked out. His leather shoes clicked on the floor, one step at a time, unhurried and deliberate. Zheng's mother covered her face, being pulled along by him, staggering as she followed behind.

-

When the word "husband" came through the receiver, Bo Yan was leaning against the sofa in the waiting room of Haicheng Airport, flipping through a magazine.

He froze completely.

Those two words were crisp, calm, and clearly enunciated, unlike the flat, straightforward way she usually called him by his name. There was a deliberate, solemn tone in them. Bo Yan's magazine stopped on that page; his ears went numb first.

My heart skipped a beat.

He paused for two seconds before speaking.

"Who kidnapped you?"

The voice on the other end remained calm and measured: "I'm at the police station, and it's not convenient for me to answer the phone right now."

Police station? Bo Yan's brow twitched, and he sat up straight. "Mu Siwan, explain yourself clearly."

"Okay, then come pick me up."

The next second, the phone was hung up without hesitation.

Bo Yan stared at the darkened screen, her ears still burning. The word "husband" kept echoing in her mind—she called him husband, she was at the police station, and she asked him to come pick her up.

Damn, what does that even mean?

An announcement came over the loudspeaker in the waiting area, reminding him that it was time to board.

Bo Yan called Mu Siwan back, but she hung up. He then sent her a message.

[Mu Siwan]: I'm not available to answer the phone right now. It's been resolved. Thank you.

Bo Yan stared at that sentence, pondered it for a long time, and finally, rested his cheek on his hand and laughed in exasperation.

Got it, it's just another use-and-throw.

-

As I left the police station, the night wind rushed towards me, carrying the dry chill of northern Beijing.

Mu Cheng stood on the steps, his face even more unpleasant than when he arrived. He turned and glared at Mu Sigui, his voice low and strained, as if squeezed out from between his teeth: "I'll settle the score with you later."

Mu Sigui stood behind him, her eyes lowered, the red mark on her face still visible, her expression numb and indifferent.

Mu Cheng turned around, forcing a smile through the gloom on his face. He looked at Mu Siwan, his lips curving upwards, his voice softening with amusement: "Siwan, thanks to you and Bo Yan today. Otherwise, if we had offended Zheng Hongyuan, I really wouldn't know what to do."

Xu Ruolin followed, took his arm, and smiled as she echoed, "Yes, yes, thanks to you."

Mu Siwan looked at that face.

The streetlights shone from the side, illuminating the deep wrinkles on Mu Cheng's face. The slight curve of his lips was barely perceptible, and the weariness and calculation in his eyes were a mixture of emotions. She had seen him since he was a child; she knew him all too well.

She remembered when he came home drunk as a child, standing in front of her like this, his voice rising and falling, his mood fluctuating. She never knew if his next words would be "Come and eat" or "Go to the attic."

From childhood to adulthood, no one in the Mu family dared to defy him. She and Mu Sigui had to live their lives according to his whims, and so did Xu Ruolin.

It took Mu Siwan a long time to learn not to be afraid of him. But she never thought of taking revenge on him.

But today, he stood before Zheng Hongyuan, bowing and scraping, sweat dripping from his forehead and temples, responding with "yes, yes, yes." She suddenly realized that he was just an ordinary person after all.

They are opportunistic and bully the weak while fearing the strong.

And she happens to have that momentum now.

Mu Siwan stared at him for a long time.

Those eyes fell on him, like cold snakes, silently and slowly crawling across his face. Mu Cheng's smile froze little by little, the slight curve of his lips hanging awkwardly on his face, as if someone had grabbed his neck.

"Alright," he coughed lightly, taking a half-step back, "If there's nothing else, your mother and I will head back today—"

"Something's up."

Mu Siwan interrupted him. Her voice wasn't loud, but the night wind carried the two words clearly.

"I'm not in a good mood today." She looked at him and said calmly, "Although I'm not drunk, I'm a little...wanting to—"

She stepped forward and raised her hand.

"Snap—"