The Daughter-In-Law Is So Pitiful? Just Take Her Home and Pamper Her! - Chapter 21

Chapter 21: Starlight Barbershop

The sky was just beginning to lighten with the bluish-gray hue of dawn when Xu Yao climbed up the aluminum stepladder, toolbox in hand.

The iron frame of the signboard was soaked with dew, biting cold to the touch. He clenched a flashlight between his teeth, its white beam illuminating the broken character for “star”—the right component of the character “日” was rusted and filled with a year’s worth of grime, forming reddish-brown webs from exposure to rain.

As he unscrewed the corroded clamp, the morning dew soaked into his cuffs.

Xu Yao, holding a screw in his mouth, suddenly remembered the first time Chen Mi walked into the barbershop—those wet eyes, looking like an abandoned kitten.

“Morning, Little Xu!” Aunt Wang from the breakfast stall across the street called out. “Finally fixing it?”

Xu Yao slid the new light tube into place, lips curling into a faint smile. “Yeah, found my sun.”

His fingertips held the newly bought orange tube light, and in the morning glow, it looked like he was holding a strand of solidified sunset.

When Chen Mi came downstairs rubbing his eyes, the wooden stairs creaked in their usual way. The calico cat perched on the counter, grooming its paws. Upon seeing him, it immediately raised its tail—its paw pads stained with some unknown hair dye.

“Xu Yao?”

The screen door in the back yard rattled, accompanied by a faint clinking of metal.

Chen Mi peered through the window—Xu Yao was crouched beside the motorcycle, oiling the chain. His shoulder blades shifted beneath a sweat-dampened white tank top, and the tattoo on his chest looked a bit red—probably from Chen Mi rubbing it too hard the night before.

“Had your fill?” Xu Yao suddenly looked back, gloved in grease-stained hands holding a wrench. “Come here.”

Chen Mi shuffled over in his slippers, only to trip on the threshold. Xu Yao caught him easily, but not without smearing black grease onto his pajama sleeve.

“Hiss—” Xu Yao pulled off his gloves. A fresh scratch across his palm was oozing bl00d.

Chen Mi immediately leapt from his arms and grabbed his hand in alarm.

“How’d you get hurt so early in the morning?”

“Scratched myself fixing the bike,” Xu Yao said casually.

Chen Mi was too focused on the injury to notice the slight guilt in Xu Yao’s expression.

“Ow—hurts,” Xu Yao winced deliberately.

Chen Mi froze. If Xu Yao said it hurt, then it must really hurt.

“Don’t move, I’ll disinfect it for you right now!”

Just as he turned to leave, Xu Yao pulled him back. “Babe, kiss it better and it won’t hurt.”

Chen Mi was speechless. Chen Mi wanted to hit him. Chen Mi did hit him. Good job, Chen Mi!

Xu Yao didn’t get the kiss. Xu Yao got a punch. And Xu Yao laughed. Xu Yao is clearly insane.

The smell of disinfectant drifted in the morning breeze. Chen Mi applied the antiseptic with a cotton swab, his touch featherlight. Xu Yao seemed to feel nothing at all, just stared at him like a love-struck fool—utterly ridiculous.

The rain came without warning.

Chen Mi knelt on the windowsill to close the gas window. The slanted rain wet the ends of his tousled hair.

The spinning barber pole flickered under the thunder, casting his shadow across the wall like a bird ready to take flight.

“Catch.” Xu Yao tossed him a can of ice-cold cola. The condensation ran down Chen Mi’s collarbone as he caught it.

As Chen Mi tilted his head back to drink, his Adam’s apple bobbed with each gulp. He didn’t notice Xu Yao’s gaze tracing the droplet sliding down his skin until it disappeared into his shirt.

“What are you looking at?”

“The sign…” Chen Mi pointed at the blurry neon in the rain. “Feels like something’s different.”

In the downpour, the neon blurred into blobs of color. The broken character for “star” faded behind the rain curtain. Xu Yao’s thumb brushed a drop of cola from Chen Mi’s lips: “I’ll show you a magic trick tonight.”

By the time the last customer left, the sunset was blazing in the sky.

Chen Mi bent down to sweep the fallen hair. Suddenly, something cold pressed against the back of his neck—it was a glass soda bottle Xu Yao had just taken out of the fridge.

“Turn off the lights.”

“Huh?”

“All of them,” Xu Yao twisted off the cap. The hiss of bubbles rising sounded like a laugh. “Even the ones by the door.”

The moment Chen Mi flipped the last switch, the entire shop fell into darkness. The barber pole stopped spinning. Even the hum of the freezer fell silent.

“Xu Yao? Did the fuse…”

“Outside.”

Feeling his way through the dark, Chen Mi opened the glass door. The night air rushed in, filled with the scent of flowers.

And then he froze.

The entire alley was bathed in shadows—except for the sign above them, which glowed like daylight.

The character “日” that had been broken for years now shone with a warm orange light, completing the word “Starshine” in full.

The light tube had clearly been custom-colored. Instead of the usual harsh neon, it glowed like melted toffee, thick and golden, streaming gently into the night.

“You fixed it…” Chen Mi tilted his head up, his neck stretching into a delicate arc. The small mole on his throat stood out under the glow.

Xu Yao wrapped his arms around him from behind, the scent of shaving cream and mint enveloping them. “I bought this shop three years ago. That ‘sun’ broke not long after. I didn’t bother fixing it. Thought stars didn’t need the sun.”

His palm covered Chen Mi’s hand, guiding it to touch the still-warm metal of the sign frame. “Now I know—without sunlight, even the stars are lifeless.”

The three little cats chased each other under the light of the sign.

Chen Mi suddenly turned around, his nose bumping Xu Yao’s chin. As he tiptoed, one of his slippers slipped off, and his bare toes landed right on Xu Yao’s sneakers. “Then… what does the sun taste like?”

Xu Yao bent down and bit his lower lip. “Like braised egg.”

The latest entry in the ledger:

“Light tube -35”
“Electrician fee -200”
“…But someone is priceless.”

The next morning, a sanitation worker at the alley entrance found an empty soda bottle with a note curled inside:

“Tonight after lights out, I want to taste the real sun.”

That night, Xu Yao’s sun was panting, begging, and exhausted beyond words—While Chen Mi’s sun was full of energy, covered in scratches, and looking very refreshed.

“Chirp chirp chirp—” came the morning birdsong.

Sunlight filtered through the gauzy curtains, and Chen Mi was the first to wake.

He found himself nestled entirely in Xu Yao’s embrace, his back pressed to Xu Yao’s warm chest.

Xu Yao’s arm was wrapped around his waist, palm loosely cupped around his wrist—as if even in sleep, he had to make sure Chen Mi was still there.

Chen Mi shifted slightly, and a wave of soreness radiated through his hips and legs.

The memories of last night flooded in: Xu Yao knocking over the hair dye bowl when kissing him in the barber’s chair, the way their fingers tangled on the bed, and how he whispered against Chen Mi’s ear—“The sun is salty.”

“You’re awake?” Xu Yao’s morning voice was husky, his arms tightening around him.

His lips brushed the knob of Chen Mi’s spine, hot breath tickling. “Does it hurt?”

Chen Mi’s ears flushed red. He shook his head, then nodded.

Xu Yao chuckled softly, his hand slipping to Chen Mi’s waist. The callused pads of his fingers gently massaged the sore muscles. “Liar.” His palm was hot, the warmth seeping through the skin and into Chen Mi’s bloodstream, making his toes curl involuntarily.

Little Hei had somehow jumped onto the foot of the bed, its golden-green eyes watching them intently. Xu Yao grabbed a pillow and chucked it. “What are you looking at?” The cat dodged nimbly, its tail knocking over a glass on the nightstand.

As the sound of shattering glass echoed, Chen Mi suddenly remembered something and tried to sit up. “The sign… we left it on all night—”

Xu Yao pulled him back under the covers, nose brushing the fresh hickey on his collarbone. “It’s fine,” he murmured into the crook of Chen Mi’s neck.
“From now on, it stays on all night.”