The Daughter-In-Law Is So Pitiful? Just Take Her Home and Pamper Her! - Chapter 16

Chapter 16: Xu Yao’s Past (2)

Xu Yao wrapped his jacket around the boy and suddenly felt the uneven texture under his left ribs. Lifting the school uniform, he saw scar tissue—burn marks etched into the numbers “07.21.” The flesh was raw and distorted, as if the digits had been branded into him with a searing iron.

In the distance, the sound of police sirens grew louder.

The boy suddenly grabbed Xu Yao’s hand and traced three characters into his palm: Run. Now.

Xu Yao stared at the teardrop mole under the boy’s eye for two seconds, then suddenly grinned.

“Remember,” he pried open the boy’s fingers and tucked a razor blade into his palm, “stay alive and wait for me to come back.”

Then he turned and sprinted toward the warehouse’s back window. Just as he shattered the glass, the boy’s heart-wrenching scream echoed behind him:

“Razor Hand—!”

Three months later, in a prison somewhere.

As the iron gate slammed shut behind him, Xu Yao licked the bl00d at the corner of his mouth—not his own, but the prison guard’s. The guard had yanked his hair and slammed his head against the wall, and Xu Yao reflexively elbowed him. That earned him three days in solitary.

The solitary cell had no lights—only a narrow beam through a window slit in the door.

Xu Yao leaned against the wall, counting his breaths. On the 300th, his fingers brushed over carved notches—seven vertical lines, four crossbars. A calendar of sorts, left by the previous “tenant,” marking the days of confinement.

He scratched one more line beneath them with his nail.

Back in the cellblock, seven inmates looked up in unison as he entered.

The biggest one, nicknamed “Butcher,” had a toothbrush handle carved into a pendant around his neck. He eyed Xu Yao’s bandaged hand with a sinister grin.

“New guy,” Butcher bared his gold-inlaid canine teeth, “you know the rules?”

Xu Yao said nothing. He walked straight to the bed by the window—the fourth iron post was carved with hundreds of tally marks.

He brushed a hand across them. Dark brown flakes—rust mixed with dried bl00d—stuck to his fingertip.

That night, as Xu Yao sharpened a toothbrush into a shiv, Butcher and his crew gathered around.

“Heard you used to play with razors?” Butcher kicked the bedframe. “Show me a trick.”

Xu Yao looked up. Moonlight filtered through the barred window, illuminating the seventh vertical line he had just carved.

Three minutes later, Butcher was writhing on the floor, clutching his ribs. Xu Yao stepped on his throat and yanked his head back by the hair.

“You?” Xu Yao’s voice was cold. “You’re the one who bullied that kid in cell 203 yesterday?”

The cell fell silent.

That night…

Inmate #407 leaned against his iron bunk, reading the newspaper by moonlight.

“Liu Shipping Suspected of Smuggling – Eldest Son Liu Mingyuan Left Paralyzed in Attack”

The moonlight was like a blunt knife, etching the iron bars’ shadows across Xu Yao’s face.

In the corner, a smuggled note from the warden read:
“The kid was sent to a welfare home. The scar under his ribs couldn’t be removed.”

Xu Yao rolled the note on his tongue. The coarse paper fibers and cheap ink left a bitter, metallic taste.

He chewed the note to pulp and swallowed it. The taste of bl00d followed.

“I served three years in prison. After I got out, I opened this barbershop. Then I met a stray ‘kitten’ with nowhere to go.” Xu Yao’s voice was low, like it came from a great distance.

Night wind swept past the alley, carrying a few petals on its breeze.
Xu Yao and Chen Mi sat side by side on the barbershop’s front steps.
At some point, a calico cat had curled up between them, her tail lazily brushing against Xu Yao’s shoelaces.

The steps were damp with dew, chilled by the night air.
Chen Mi hunched his shoulders and tucked his chin into his collar. Xu Yao’s cigarette glowed dimly in the dark, like a dying ember.

“That welfare home…” Chen Mi stared at a weed poking through a crack in the cement. “…did you ever go back?”

Ash fell silently from the cigarette.
Xu Yao’s voice was deeper than the night itself.
“I went. There was a crack in the wall—just enough to see the sycamore tree inside.” He paused. “There was a star carved into the bark.”

Chen Mi suddenly reached out, lightly touching the tattoo on Xu Yao’s right arm.
The jagged cliff lines shimmered under the moonlight, as if they might come alive.

“I don’t mind being a stand-in,” he said slowly, each word carefully weighed, “but make sure you look closely—The scar under my eye? My dad gave me that. It’s not a tear mole.”

Xu Yao abruptly stubbed out his cigarette. Sparks flew, leaving a tiny black mark between them on the steps.

“F***.” He swore under his breath and suddenly grabbed Chen Mi’s face.

“You listen to me—” His thumb pressed hard against the old scar under Chen Mi’s ribs.

“This scar? Your bastard father gave it to you.” Then he pressed the one beneath his eye. “This? That was from a beer bottle.” Finally, his hand rested over Chen Mi’s pulsing carotid. “And this right here—the bl00d flowing now—is warm.”

The wind suddenly shifted, ruffling the calico cat’s fur.
She meowed in protest and leapt onto Xu Yao’s lap, her fish-scented paw landing on the corner of his mouth.

Chen Mi froze, startled by Xu Yao’s abrupt movement.
His pupils widened under the moonlight.
He could feel the rough pressure of Xu Yao’s thumb against his throat, right where his pulse pounded like a drum.

The calico’s tail brushed his wrist—soft and furry.
It reminded him of that first time Xu Yao had cut his hair, when the electric trimmer grazed the back of his neck, sending a shiver down his spine.

“…Xu Yao,” he rasped, his voice hoarse.
Even he didn’t know what he meant to say.

The next second, breath thick with cigarette smoke crashed down on him.

Xu Yao’s lips were softer than he expected—but they carried a force that wouldn’t take no for an answer.
He kissed him hard, grinding into the corner of his mouth.

Chen Mi tasted bl00d.
It might’ve been Xu Yao’s.
It might’ve been his own.
He couldn’t tell.

In the distance, the first bus of the day made its arrival announcement.

Xu Yao pulled back half an inch, panting.

“Feel that?” His thumb brushed over Chen Mi’s bitten lower lip.
“I never left bite marks on his lips.”