The Daughter-In-Law Is So Pitiful? Just Take Her Home and Pamper Her! - Chapter 10

Chapter 10: We Have Kittens

A cherry blossom petal, damp with night dew, soaked a faint water stain over the infinity symbol. Chen Mi reached out to brush it away, but his fingers accidentally touched the back of Xu Yao’s hand before he could pull it back. They both recoiled at once, the ledger snapping shut with a crisp “pa”, startling the petal into the air.

“The noodles are going to get soggy,” Xu Yao said, turning around and accidentally knocking over a glass. The clear liquid spilled over the edge of the vanity, dripping onto the spot where Chen Mi had first “recommended” himself on the day they met.

Inside Sister Lin’s takeout boxes were two steaming bowls of beef noodles. The noodles were neatly arranged, topped with a generous pile of beef slices, vibrant green scallions, and fresh cilantro—so much it seemed ready to overflow.

Chen Mi opened the takeout, and the rich aroma hit him immediately. He couldn’t help swallowing a bit of drool. He picked up a pair of disposable chopsticks, ready to dig into the delicious beef noodles.

But when he broke the chopsticks apart, one of them unexpectedly split in half. Instinctively, he reached to pass the intact pair to Xu Yao.

However, when he looked up, he saw that Xu Yao had already grabbed the good pair and was roughly sanding off the splinters.

“Use these.” Xu Yao handed him the smoothed chopsticks, snatched the broken ones from Chen Mi’s hands, and used them to lift some noodles for himself.

Chen Mi’s ears turned red again. He quickly lowered his head to eat, only to discover two braised eggs hidden at the bottom of the bowl—Xu Yao always said egg yolks choked his throat, but he still ordered them every time.

The wind chime on the glass door jingled softly. Xu Yao instantly raised his head, hand reaching toward the razor under the counter—but it was only a calico cat slipping in, fishbone in its mouth, its tail brushing against Chen Mi’s leg.

The calico leapt lightly onto the counter, its tail brushing against Xu Yao’s wrist. Chen Mi noticed a notch missing from its right ear, like it had been sliced off by something sharp—strangely similar to the scar on Xu Yao’s left eyebrow.

The cat solemnly placed the fishbone on the accounting ledger. The yellowed bone pinned down the blue-stained cherry blossom petal, casting a long, slender shadow over the infinity symbol.

“You’ve gotten fatter,” Xu Yao said, tapping the cat’s head with his knuckles before reaching under its chin for a scratch.

“Just like you,” he added, his gaze sweeping over the faint outlines of Chen Mi’s ribs under his hoodie—his face had rounded out a bit too.

The kid had only been here less than a month, but he was finally softening under Xu Yao’s care.

Chen Mi opened his mouth to argue, but hot broth went down the wrong pipe and he started coughing, eyes watering.

Xu Yao’s hand landed on his back, still smelling faintly of hair dye. The first pat nearly knocked Chen Mi into his bowl, but the second one was gentler, and the last so soft it felt like a feather.

The calico took the opportunity to crawl into Chen Mi’s arms, its little claws hooking into his collar.

“Well, looks like it’s chosen you as its owner.” Xu Yao narrowed his eyes, snatched the last piece of beef from Chen Mi’s bowl, and said, “Just like you—ungrateful little brat.”

The beef slice glistened with oil as it hovered near Xu Yao’s lips. Without thinking, Chen Mi reached out to grab it—his fingertips brushed the corner of Xu Yao’s mouth.

They both froze. Just then, the cat let out a loud “meow.”

The cat’s cry shattered the tension. Chen Mi quickly withdrew his hand, and both of them turned to see the cat had jumped from his arms onto Xu Yao’s shoulder, its tail arrogantly sweeping across his tense jaw.

“Ugh, filthy thing,” Xu Yao muttered, but he let the cat paw at his silver earring. The cat leaned down, sniffed at the beef near Xu Yao’s mouth, and suddenly licked it—with tongue and all, including the corner of his lips.

Chen Mi burst out laughing and quickly clapped a hand over his mouth. Xu Yao shot him a glare, then shoved the beef at the cat’s mouth.

“Go on, eat up, you little rascal.”

…

The next morning, Chen Mi was woken by a rustling noise in the attic. Rubbing his eyes, he went downstairs and found Xu Yao squatting at the door with a cardboard box in front of him.

“Come here,” Xu Yao called without looking back.

Inside the box was one of Xu Yao’s old T-shirts—ruined by hair dye—used as a cushion. The calico cat was curled up inside, surrounded by three tiny kittens, each about the size of a palm—one pure black, one orange and white, and one a miniature version of their mother.

“Found them in the back alley last night,” Xu Yao said, nudging the black kitten gently with the end of a comb. “Kinda reminds me of what you looked like when you first showed up.”

Chen Mi crouched down. As his fingertip brushed the kitten’s damp nose, it gave him a soft bite. His heart tightened abruptly. He suddenly remembered how, before his mother left, she had gently touched his sleeping face the same way.

…

The three kittens quickly became part of the little household—not because their mom didn’t want them, but because she was a free spirit, never one to settle down.

Every morning, the calico cat would show up punctually at the back steps with a mouse or a sparrow as “rent.” She’d lick each kitten from head to toe before vanishing into the depths of the alley. Xu Yao said it was her “wanderer’s instinct,” but quietly placed a waterproof cat house outside the shop door.

The Star Salon underwent some changes:

Like a hair dye bowl converted into a litter box.

Or a cat bed sewn from old towels.

And a new entry in the accounting ledger:
“Kitten food – ¥300/month (tentative)”

The three kittens brought unexpected changes to daily life in the shop:

The little black one loved crawling into the hood of Chen Mi’s sweatshirt to nap, but just as it got cozy, Xu Yao would yank it out by the scruff (always rough-looking, but never once hurting it).

The orange one fell in love with Xu Yao’s minty cigarettes, constantly trying to paw at his lips. One time it sneezed from the smoke and rolled into a bowl of hair dye, emerging with a red tail (Sister Lin jokingly called it the “Star Salon Limited Edition”).

The calico kitten, though, became the store’s mascot—perching on the cashier counter and sweeping customers’ hands with its tail, refusing to let them leave until they promised to come back next time.

Chen Mi couldn’t shake his anxiety. He was deeply afraid Xu Yao would one day decide to give the kittens away. The thought made him restless. He kept thinking of how to stop that from happening.

After much deliberation, Chen Mi made up his mind: if Xu Yao really insisted on giving them away, then no matter how small his salary was, he would find a way to keep them. If it came to it, he’d even offer to do extra work in exchange for letting the kittens stay.

But as the days passed, Xu Yao never once mentioned giving them away. Chen Mi began to wonder if maybe he’d worried too much. Maybe… Xu Yao had never even considered it.

Then one rainy night, after the shop had closed, Chen Mi was about to turn off the lights. As he walked into the living room, he was surprised to see Xu Yao asleep on the sofa, the three kittens piled on top of him like a little tower.

Chen Mi tiptoed closer, careful not to wake him. He reached for the switch, but just as his fingers brushed it, he heard Xu Yao murmur in his sleep:

“…Keep ’em all. Already picked up the biggest troublemaker anyway…”

Chen Mi froze. His heart, once held tightly in anxiety, instantly relaxed. At the same time, he felt a bit silly—clearly, Xu Yao liked the kittens just as much as he did.

The ledger was spread open on the table, covered in paw prints that looked like little plum blossoms. Only one line stood out clearly:

“Adopted 4 strays (including a certain idiot)”

Thinking of Xu Yao’s accounting book, Chen Mi buried his face in the blanket, eyes quietly growing misty. Outside, the neon sign of the Star Salon blurred into a soft blue glow through the curtain of rain.