The Daughter-In-Law Is So Pitiful? Just Take Her Home and Pamper Her! - Chapter 24

Chapter 24: The Rumors Have Faded

The morning fog hadn’t yet lifted, but the noisy clamor of the wet market had already poured into Xingchen Barbershop.

Chen Mi was crouched by the door cleaning the glass when he suddenly heard a flurry of footsteps.

He looked up—and froze.

Leading the charge was Aunt Zhang, the tofu vendor, clutching a bunch of fresh pomelo leaves. Behind her were Sister Lin from the fish stall, Uncle Liu from the butcher shop, and the hardware store owner’s wife—seven or eight people in total, marching down the alley in full force, blocking the entrance completely.

“Aiyoo, Little Master Chen, you’re up early, aren’t you?” Aunt Zhang’s voice rang out like beans popping in a hot pan. She slapped the pomelo leaves against the doorframe. “Here, here, sweep away the bad luck!”

Before Chen Mi could react, Sister Lin had already squeezed her way inside, stuffing a bag of lively, jumping river shrimp into his arms. “Fresh as can be! Get Xiao Xu to make some spicy shrimp for you later—good for your health!”

“Oh right, right, you can’t eat spicy food right now. Get him to make five-spice instead,” she leaned in close and whispered to Chen Mi, covering her mouth like it was a big secret.

Clink-clank!

The hardware shop lady slapped a brand-new golden hanging hook on the counter. “The old one was all rusted. Hanging a rusty sign? That’s bad luck! Look at this one, shiny and gold, guaranteed to bring in money!”

Xu Yao came out from the back room with a toothbrush still in his mouth. When he saw the crowd, his eyebrows shot up high. “What’s this? Did the wet market turn into a morning market now?”

“Boss Xu!” Old Wang, the bike repairman, squeezed out from the back of the crowd, rubbing his hands. “My daughter said that photo from the art school turned out great. Her professor even praised you for having the ‘dignity of a master craftsman!’”

Turns out, last night in the darkroom at the art academy, Wang Yi, Old Wang’s daughter, noticed that the girl’s photo captured more than just a haircut scene.

In the mirror reflection at the corner of the photo, the shop’s business license was clearly visible—registration date three years ago—and right beneath the glass frame, Chen Mi’s ID copy could be seen. His birth year was clearly printed in black and white. One glance was enough to know whether he was a minor.

Wang Yi immediately used the dorm’s shared phone to call her aunties at the market:
“Get moving! First thing in the morning, everyone go get a haircut! We can’t let good people be disheartened!”

Now, Xu Yao’s razor glided over Uncle Liu’s greying sideburns. The old man squinted and murmured, “Back in the day, when I was chased by city patrol, it was you, kid, who helped me hide my cart…”

The tofu lady sat in the waiting area and shoved two tea eggs into Chen Mi’s hands. “You’re skinny as a bean sprout—eat more!”

The butcher was even more direct. He carried over half a slab of pork ribs. “Let’s all have hotpot here at noon!”

The rotating shop sign cast the shadow of the pomelo leaves onto the concrete, flickering in the light. Chen Mi sneakily tried to sweep the leaves off the doorframe with a broom but was yanked back by his collar.

“Dummy, this is how you do it,” Xu Yao said as he reached out, his hand covering Chen Mi’s, guiding him to pluck off a leaf still damp with morning dew. His breath brushed against Chen Mi’s ear. “Do you know what pomelo leaves mean?”

Chen Mi shook his head.

“They mean—” Xu Yao stuffed the leaf into Chen Mi’s pocket, “our luck’s about to turn around.”

Grandma Li, who always came to dye her white hair, slowly made her way in with her cane. Squinting, she looked up at the business license on the wall. “Xiao Xu, your shop’s been open for… three years now, right? I remember, back then you’d just saved that Xiao Zhou…”

Chen Mi was sweeping up hair on the floor when his broom suddenly halted.

“You knew… that person?”

“Of course I did.” Grandma Li pulled out her reading glasses. “That kid used to work at my noodle shop. Always said he was saving money to pay back Boss Xu’s medical bills.”

She suddenly pointed at the calendar. “Oh my, isn’t today Xiao Zhou’s birthday?”

Xu Yao’s hand froze mid-snip.

Chen Mi saw the tension in the muscles at the back of Xu Yao’s neck.

Grandma Li shakily pulled out a cloth bundle from her bag and slowly unwrapped it. Inside was a yellowed photograph. “That winter was especially cold. Xiao Zhou’s hands were cracked from the chill, but he still insisted on kneading dough for me…”

In the photo, a skinny young man stood at the entrance of the noodle shop, gauze wrapped around his right wrist, smiling shyly at the camera.

“That kid now…” Chen Mi trailed off.

Xu Yao suddenly snapped the razor shut with a click.

“Gone,” Grandma Li said quietly. “It happened last year.”

The bell of the junk collector’s cart rang from outside. Grandma Li slapped her leg, “Ah, my memory!” She fished out a crumpled piece of paper. “Xiao Zhou left his wages with me. I kept forgetting to give them to you…”

Xu Yao stared at the credit union deposit slip, unmoving.

Chen Mi took it and glanced at it. The account was opened four years ago. The name on it was clear: “Zhou Yu’an,” with his age listed as “20.”

After Grandma Li left, the shop was quiet, save for the ticking of the wall clock.

Chen Mi snuck a glance at Xu Yao, who was staring blankly at the deposit slip, brow furrowed tight enough to crush a fly.

“Ge…” Chen Mi had just started to speak when his stomach let out a loud growl.

Xu Yao’s brows immediately relaxed, and a teasing grin tugged at his lips. “Hungry?”

Chen Mi’s ears flushed red, and he stubbornly said, “That… that was the water pipe!”

“Oh?” Xu Yao stood up and slowly walked toward the kitchen. “Then I’ll eat the noodles I made myself. Someone shouldn’t have any.”

“Wait!” Chen Mi rushed after him, nearly tripping over the broom. “I—I can help prep!”

Xu Yao tossed an apron at him without turning back. “Put it on. And don’t get flour everywhere again.”

Chen Mi fumbled to catch it. When he looked up, Xu Yao was facing away, chopping scallions. The lines of his back looked especially gentle in the morning light.

“What are you looking at?” Xu Yao suddenly asked. “Chop those scallions. You’re not offering them as tribute.”

He set down the knife and turned to knead the dough.

Chen Mi grinned wide. “Got it, Boss Xu~!”

“Hmph—” Xu Yao turned to stare directly at him. “Wait till tonight.”

Chen Mi instinctively clenched his backside and hurried to chop scallions.

The water in the pot began to boil. The steam blurred the business license on the wall, and with it, the remnants of all the rumors.

Sunlight streamed through the mist and cast a flickering patch of light onto the chopping board—right over the “20 years old” printed on the deposit slip, glowing clearly in the golden haze.

…

The next day, while buying tofu, Chen Mi overheard the vendors gossiping:

“Did you hear? Old Zhou’s son was actually the same age as Boss Xu!”

“For real? I heard he was a year younger!”

“Huh? Then how come the story’s different depending on who you ask?”

“Doesn’t matter—either way, he was an adult. Those rumors from a few days ago, if you ask me—”

They exchanged glances, the rest left unspoken.

“He was definitely a year younger, trust me. He came to buy cigarettes once and even showed me his ID!” the corner shop owner chimed in.

Old Ma from the egg stall added, “That kid had a star-shaped scar on his wrist. That little punk from the Liu family burned him with a cigarette…”

“Hey hey hey, tell us more. What happened?”

“They say back then…”

The tofu in Chen Mi’s hand shook a little, the plastic bag rustling as he turned to head home. He suddenly felt lighter, as if a burden had lifted.

Even Zhao Jinrong—who once felt so overpowering—now seemed like nothing at all.