The Daughter-In-Law Is So Pitiful? Just Take Her Home and Pamper Her! - Chapter 3

Chapter 3: The Evil Hairdryer

When Xu Yao suddenly opened his eyes, Chen Mi was leaning over, tucking the blanket around him.

The boy froze instantly the moment he realized Xu Yao was awake, his fingers still clutching the quilt’s edge.

Morning light streamed through the curtain’s slit, casting golden lines across Xu Yao’s bare chest. Chen Mi could see the scars that hadn’t faded—clearly outlined in the glow and subtly moving with each breath: a knife wound beneath the left ribs, a circular burn on the right shoulder blade, and a stitched scar running across his abs.

“I… I…” Chen Mi’s Adam’s apple bobbed. “Your… your blanket fell on the floor.”

Even in the dimness, Xu Yao’s eyes were shockingly bright.
Suddenly, he reached out and grabbed Chen Mi’s wrist, the grip so strong it felt like he might crush the bones.
Chen Mi stumbled forward, collapsing onto Xu Yao. His nose bumped into the man’s collarbone, catching the scent of minty aftershave mixed with sweat.

“Peeking at your boss while he sleeps,” Xu Yao’s voice was hoarse with sleep, his breath hot against Chen Mi’s ear,
“That’s a pay deduction.”

“I… I wasn’t… looking,” Chen Mi’s explanation was feeble and pale—made even paler by the redness creeping up his ears.

“Lemme teach you something,” Xu Yao’s hand pressed against the small of Chen Mi’s back, warmth seeping through the thin pajama fabric, making Chen Mi’s lower back feel numb and tingly,
“A bed-warmer’s gotta be professional.”

Chen Mi struggled to get up—But his knee brushed somewhere it shouldn’t—That part of Xu Yao that was very awake in the morning.

Both of them froze.

“Move again,” Xu Yao growled by his ear, “and I’ll tie you to the fan and spin you all day.”

The two of them got up in a rush, crammed together in the tiny bathroom brushing their teeth.

Why didn’t they stagger their schedule? Who knows. No one dared ask.

The eggs sizzled loudly in the frying pan.

Chen Mi stared at Xu Yao’s back—His black tank top was soaked with sweat, shoulder blades moving like tucked wings each time he flipped the pan.

“Salt.” Xu Yao held out a hand without looking back.

Chen Mi hesitated, eyeing the two jars on the stove labeled “salt” and “sugar.” After a moment, he handed over the sugar.

“You do that on purpose?” Xu Yao turned around, egg still clinging to the spatula.

He leaned down, lips brushing Chen Mi’s ear as he spoke in a low voice, “Getting revenge for this morning?”

Chen Mi lowered his head, slicing bread, ears burning. “N-No… slipped.”

Xu Yao made a discovery—Chen Mi’s ears turned red really easily.

And when they did, it made him look… kind of cute.

Suddenly, Xu Yao leaned down and took a bite of the bread from Chen Mi’s hand, his sharp canine grazing his fingers.
“This bread’s too sweet.”

Apprentice Ahei walked in just in time to see the boss licking jam off the corner of his mouth—And the new apprentice burying his face in his collar.

At 9:40 a.m., the barbershop was already filled with early customers.

A towel landed squarely on Chen Mi’s head, lemon shampoo scent flooding his nose.

“You’re learning how to dry hair today,” Xu Yao said flatly without even looking up.
“Start with the towel.”

He personally demonstrated how to shampoo a client’s hair and wrap it properly—But when it came time to blow-dry, the moment the hairdryer roared to life, Chen Mi’s body stiffened.

He bit down hard on his lower lip until he tasted iron—That damn noise, that deafening roar—It sounded just like the crash of beer bottles his father used to throw when drunk, Just like the yelling and his mother’s screams.

Memories surged like a tidal wave:
Shattered glass flying,
Alcohol-laced fury,
Kicks and punches from his father,
His mother’s shrieks of pain and sobbing pleas while holding him tight.

His ears rang with chaos.
Scenes of domestic violence replayed again and again.
His mother’s pained voice echoed endlessly.
He remembered trying to help—only to get beaten too.
It hurt. So much.

Xu Yao noticed something was wrong.

He stopped drying the client’s hair. The sound abruptly cut off.

Chen Mi still hadn’t snapped out of it— His fingernails had dug deep into his palm.

Four crescent-shaped marks began to bleed slowly.

Trembling, he loosened his grip, his eyes vacant and unfocused.

Smack—Xu Yao slammed the hairdryer down on the counter.

The entire barbershop went terrifyingly quiet. Customers looked at each other.

Ahei dropped his comb with a loud clink.

“We’re closing early today.” Xu Yao’s voice was soft but carried unshakable authority.

He grabbed the stunned client with one hand, stuffed a handful of change from the register with the other. “Come back tomorrow. It’s on the house.”

Chen Mi stood frozen in place, his legs heavy like lead. His vision blurred, and all he could hear was the pounding of bl00d in his ears.

Until—A pair of shampoo-scented hands suddenly covered his ears.

They were warm, rough, fingers tangled with a few strands of golden hair.

“Breathe,”Xu Yao’s voice came from far away, gradually getting clearer,
“Follow me—inhale—”

Chen Mi instinctively followed the rhythm.

Only then did he realize how heavily his chest was heaving.

Xu Yao’s thumb pressed against his temple—Hard enough to leave a bruise.

“Look at the mirror,” Xu Yao forced him to raise his head.

In the reflection, Chen Mi saw his own pale face streaked with tears. And Xu Yao standing behind him, lips nearly brushing his earlobe.

“Count them. How many lights?”

Chen Mi opened his mouth but couldn’t make a sound.

“Three,” Xu Yao answered for him.

“Two on the ceiling. One around the mirror.”

His hand slid down Chen Mi’s arm and suddenly gripped his wrist.

“Now, tell me what you’re touching.”

“T-Towel,” Chen Mi finally found his voice. The rough cotton helped ground him a little.

“Temperature?” Xu Yao guided patiently.

“Cool…”

Suddenly, Xu Yao let go. He turned and grabbed a hot towel from the sterilizer, pressing it firmly to Chen Mi’s face.

“Remember this,” his voice came through the towel—Muffled, but deeply comforting, “Everything else is bullshit.”

The hot steam, scented with lemon shampoo, filled Chen Mi’s nose. He began to tremble violently.

All those broken memories—
His father’s shattered bottle,
His mother’s fading back,
The countless nights of pain and hunger—
Were temporarily smoothed over by the searing warmth.

When he finally pulled the towel away, The shop was empty.

Xu Yao was leaning in the doorway, smoking. The ashtray was filled with four or five cigarette butts.

“Rule number one,” He exhaled a smoke ring.

His face was hazy in the drifting smoke. “Have a breakdown in my shop, and you lose three days’ pay.”

Chen Mi looked down at the bl00d seeping from the crescent marks in his palm—And noticed something else: The hairdryer lay in pieces on the floor, dismantled like a silver insect mid-autopsy, its parts scattered everywhere.