Slow to mature after marriage

Without further hesitation, Mu Siwan closed her laptop, grabbed her coat, and went downstairs.

The elevator doors opened, and a night breeze rushed in, carrying the cool dampness of late spring.

Bo Yan was still standing by the car, looking down at his phone. The light from the screen reflected on his face, casting shadows on his brow bone and making his eyes appear particularly deep.

Mu Siwan walked towards him. Bo Yan heard the footsteps, slowly raised his eyes, stubbed out the cigarette in his hand, and stood up straight.

"Finished working overtime?" The man's voice was somewhat rough and hoarse.

"Okay, all added."

Mu Siwan walked up to the man, the streetlights casting a soft glow on her face. Her brows and eyes were serene, her lips a pale color, like a watercolor painting that hadn't quite dried, gently spreading across his eyes.

"Are you in a bad mood today?" she asked, looking up at him.

Bo Yan stared at her, neither denying it nor denying it, only saying, "A little."

He raised his hand and gently stroked the woman's head, his palm covering the top of her hair, gently kneading it. "Are you going to comfort me?"

Mu Siwan looked slightly bewildered and blinked.

"I'm bad at comforting people."

Bo Yan chuckled softly, unsurprised, and opened his arms to her: "How about a hug?"

Mu Siwan stared at the man's open arms, not even having time to consider whether this violated the three no's principle, when the next second, the man stepped forward and pulled her into his embrace. He rested his chin on the top of her head and closed his eyes briefly.

The night breeze passed between the two men, carrying with it the faint smell of smoke and the crisp scent of mint.

Mu Siwan froze for a moment, thinking to herself, "Bo Yan is indeed in a bad mood right now."

As a wife, she has an obligation to coax her husband.

She slowly raised her hand, mimicking the rhythm he used to use to lull her to sleep, gently patting his back, one pat at a time.

The movements were clumsy, but the filming was done very seriously.

Don't be upset.

His tone was dry and unresponsive.

Bo Yan felt the clumsy rhythm on his back, and a wave of bitterness welled up in his heart. He tightened his arms and pulled the person into his embrace.

"Mu Siwan".

"Um?"

"Thanks for your hard work."

Mu Siwan thought carefully about today's workload and replied seriously, "It's not hard work. I only moved two buckets of corpses today."

Bo Yan paused for a moment.

Then he pulled her into his arms, resting his chin on the top of her head, his voice low and husky.

"……Fool."

The man held her tightly, as if he wanted to meld her into his very bones.

Mu Siwan endured for a moment, her ribs aching from the pressure, before finally speaking, "Bo Yan."

"Um?"

"You're squeezing my ribs so tight they're about to dislocate."

"Feel sorry."

Bo Yan loosened his grip, and after hugging her for another ten minutes or so, he finally ended the embrace, turning to take her hand and intertwine their fingers. His tone returned to its usual nonchalant tone: "Are you hungry?"

Mu Siwan is not actually hungry right now.

But she remembered what Fan Qiqi once said: "There's no bad mood that a hot pot meal can't fix. If there is, then have two hot pot meals."

So she nodded, unusually taking the initiative to suggest, "I'm hungry. Let's go get hot pot?"

Bo Yan glanced at her. It was midnight, time for hot pot.

I can't understand it.

But he's happy to indulge him.

So the man opened the car door: "Get in."

-

There weren't many people at Haidilao in the early morning.

In a small cubicle in the corner, the broth of a hot pot was bubbling and steaming, blurring the faces of the two people.

Bo Yan sat opposite, his sleeves rolled up to his forearms, holding a piece of tripe with his chopsticks, moving it up and down a few times before putting it into Mu Siwan's bowl.

Mu Siwan lowered her head and focused on eating.

She takes small bites, chewing at an almost fixed frequency, as if following an invisible metronome. Her swallowing is also light, with a slight movement in her throat, unhurried and deliberate, even eating has its own unique rhythm.

Bo Yan stared at it, and the melancholy in his eyes slowly dissipated, and he couldn't help but smile.

"Are you free on Saturday?" Her voice lowered involuntarily. "I've booked a private flight to Switzerland. To go skiing, or to see the Northern Lights."

Mu Siwan looked up, a little sesame paste on the corner of her mouth. She was interested in both options, and her eyes lit up for once.

but--

"Bo Ning has already made plans with me this Saturday," she said. "She said there's a meteor shower this Saturday, and we can go make a wish."

Bo Yan raised an eyebrow, not missing the curiosity and expectation in her eyes, and asked with some surprise, "You still believe in this?"

Mu Siwan shook her head decisively: "I don't believe it."

She was a staunch materialist.

But Mu Siwan had seen it in a TV series when she was a child; the fleeting meteor showers were beautiful. The male and female protagonists would embrace and kiss under the romantic meteor shower, making a promise to spend their lives together—she had certainly longed for that too.

Of course, Mu Siwan only realized how ridiculous this promise was when she grew up.

That couldn't compare to the stability of her current relationship with Bo Yan. They don't talk about feelings, they don't interfere with each other, and they treat each other with the utmost respect.

She was extremely satisfied.

"Bo Yan," she looked up at him, her eyes sparkling, "can we maintain this kind of relationship forever?"

The topic changed a bit too quickly. Bo Yan wiped the sesame paste from the corner of her mouth and slowly asked, "What's the relationship?"

"A long-term, stable marital relationship."

Bo Yan paused for a moment, met the woman's bright eyes, and his Adam's apple bobbed slightly.

"Of course," he replied quickly, then narrowed his eyes dangerously. "What, you're thinking about divorcing me?"

Mu Siwan quickly shook her head: "No."

His tone was decisive and quick.

She wanted to maintain this relationship with Bo Yan indefinitely.

Bo Yan looked at her, a satisfied smile playing on his lips, and then bent down to scoop up a slice of beef roll and put it in her bowl.

"That's good, go ahead and eat."

-

Saturday.

The best spot to watch the meteor shower was Cuiping Mountain, located in the northern suburbs of Beijing. The mountaintop has a wide viewing platform with excellent views, far from city lights, making it a popular stargazing location.

Bo Yan drove, and Mu Siwan sat in the passenger seat. The two of them first went to Beijing North University to pick up Bo Ning.

The car stopped in front of Jingbei University, and Bo Yan said, "Now that we're at Jingbei University, should we call my younger brother to come over too?"

Mu Siwan had the same idea: "I'll ask him first."

She first called Bo Ning to ask if she minded having another person. Bo Ning liked lively atmospheres and readily agreed.

Then Mu Siwan dialed Mu Sigui's number.

Are you free?

"Now?"

"Um."

"available."

"Come out, I'm at the gate of Jingbei University."

"it is good."

The call ended in less than a minute.

The siblings spoke in increasingly concise tones, leaving Bo Yan, who was sitting to the side, both amused and exasperated.

It's probably two human-computer interfaces executing some kind of program.

Less than five minutes later, Mu Sigui ran out of the school gate, wearing a white sweatshirt and jeans, her hair a little messy from the wind.

He first saw Mu Siwan sitting in the passenger seat, his eyes brightened slightly, and he called out "Sister". His gaze then turned to Bo Yan in the driver's seat, and his smile vanished.

Bo Yan raised an eyebrow at him with interest and greeted him first: "Hello, little brother."

Mu Sigui paused for a moment, nodded, and resumed his expressionless demeanor: "Brother-in-law."