The Daughter-In-Law Is So Pitiful? Just Take Her Home and Pamper Her! - Chapter 5

Chapter 5: Time to Dress Up My Wife

The past few days had been uneventful.

Chen Mi had learned how to wrap hair in a towel, memorized the perfect 37-degree water temperature, and could now wash and blow-dry customers’ hair on his own. He even got permission to use the hairdryer on level two. Xu Yao never brought up the “warming the bed” comment again, but each night after closing the shop, another coin would mysteriously appear in the glass jar.

Then one afternoon, Xu Yao suddenly tossed his apron onto a chair.

“Let’s go.”

“Go where?” Chen Mi looked up.

“Shopping.” Xu Yao had already pushed the door open. Sunlight streamed in, outlining his tall frame.
“You need to change out of that thing you’re wearing.”

Chen Mi looked down at his faded, over-washed T-shirt and silently followed.

Xu Yao gripped the back of Chen Mi’s neck like a cat and dragged him into the men’s section.

“Pick something.” He let go and pulled a black hoodie off the rack, tossing it over. “Don’t dawdle.”

Chen Mi caught it and instinctively rubbed the fabric between his fingers—it was much thicker than the worn-out T-shirt he had on. He sneaked a glance at the price tag, flinched, and quietly put it back.
“…No need.”

Xu Yao raised an eyebrow. “Ugly?”

“Expensive.”

“Expensive, my ass.” Xu Yao snorted and pulled down two more hoodies in different colors.
“Buy one, get one free.”

Chen Mi looked skeptical. “Really?”

“Why would I lie?” Xu Yao stayed stone-faced and turned to the sales clerk.
“We’ll take these.”

The salesgirl smiled sweetly. “Sorry, sir. These are new arrivals—no discounts.”

The air froze for a second.

Xu Yao’s earring flashed coldly under the store lights. He pulled out his wallet and slapped down a few bills.
“They’re discounted now.”

—Five minutes later—

Chen Mi walked ahead with his head down, hugging a shopping bag.

“Slow down,” Xu Yao called from behind. “Short legs, why are you rushing?”

“You lied,” Chen Mi suddenly turned around and nearly bumped into Xu Yao. “There was no buy-one-get-one.”

Xu Yao smirked and pinched the back of his neck. “If I say there is, then there is.”

They passed a lingerie store. Xu Yao stopped abruptly.

“Get in.” He jerked his chin toward the entrance.

Chen Mi’s ears instantly turned red. “…No need.”

“Those ragged boxers of yours are see-through.” Xu Yao grinned wickedly. “Trying to seduce someone?”

Chen Mi glared at him, flustered, but Xu Yao shoved him into the store.

The middle-aged saleslady welcomed them warmly. “Young man, what kind of style are you looking for?”

Xu Yao casually grabbed a few pairs of cotton briefs and tossed them into the basket.
“These’ll do.”

Chen Mi glanced down—all in his size.

“How did you know…?”

“Eyeballed it.” Xu Yao glanced at him and deliberately picked up a tight-fitting black pair.
“How about these?”

Chen Mi snatched it away and shoved it back on the rack.
“…Pervert.”

Xu Yao chuckled and, while Chen Mi was distracted, sneakily tossed the same pair into the bag anyway.

Xu Yao suddenly veered into a sportswear store.

“Try these.” He pointed to a pair of new sneakers in the display window.

Chen Mi shook his head. “I already have shoes.”

“You call those shoes?” Xu Yao kicked the peeling toe of Chen Mi’s sneakers. “Open up.”

“Huh?”

A fruit candy was shoved into Chen Mi’s mouth. While he was still stunned, Xu Yao crouched down and grabbed his ankle.

“Lift your foot.”

Chen Mi froze. The sweetness exploded on his tongue. Xu Yao’s fingers wrapped around his ankle, the warmth seeping through his sock. He instinctively tried to pull away but was held tighter.

“Don’t move.” Xu Yao’s voice was low. “Size’s too small.”

The salesgirl nearby giggled. “Your little brother’s very obedient.”

Xu Yao didn’t look up. “He’s my wife.”

Chen Mi’s face turned scarlet. He nearly choked on the candy.

As they passed a jewelry store, Chen Mi’s gaze lingered on the display for a moment.

Xu Yao followed his line of sight—it was a silver chain with a tiny scissors-shaped pendant.

“Let’s go.” He tugged Chen Mi away. “What are you staring at?”

Back at the shop, Chen Mi ditched Xu Yao and bolted up to the attic.

He sprawled over the small desk and began accounting seriously:

• Hoodie -380

• Sneakers -??? (Xu Yao didn’t say the price)

• Fruit candy +1

He drew a little heart next to “fruit candy,” then quickly erased it with an eraser.

That night after closing, Xu Yao found the necklace in the toolbox.

Underneath it was a crumpled note:

“Added to your tab: about 700 yuan (will repay in installments)”

“Thank you, Xu Yao.”

The handwriting was neat, like it had been practiced many times.

Xu Yao’s lips curled slightly. He looked up at the attic door—the light was still on.

Another coin had appeared in the glass jar, glinting under the moonlight.

In the days that followed, Chen Mi began learning how to cut hair.

Afternoon sunlight streamed through the barbershop’s glass door.

Chen Mi was fully focused on the mannequin head, carefully trimming the ends of the black hair, scissors flashing between his fingers.

It was his third mannequin—the first two had been butchered. This one was finally starting to look decent.

“Needs thinning here…” he muttered to himself, leaning closer, his nose nearly brushing the mannequin’s scalp.

Behind the counter, Xu Yao had a cigarette in his mouth—unlit. He just chewed on the filter, eyes fixed intently on Chen Mi.

The kid was so focused—eyelashes lowered, lips slightly pursed, his fingers weaving through the hair with surprising care.

He would sometimes gently stroke a strand, as if checking texture—Or treating it like something precious.

Xu Yao narrowed his eyes.

With a sudden click, he slammed the lighter onto the counter.

Chen Mi jumped. The scissors nearly slipped from his fingers.

“What’s wrong?” he turned to look.

Xu Yao didn’t answer.

He stood up, strode over, and yanked the mannequin off the stand, tossing it onto a shelf.

Before Chen Mi could react, Xu Yao pressed on his shoulders, turning him to face the barber chair.

“W-What are we doing?” Chen Mi stammered, scissors still in hand.

Xu Yao sat in the chair, leaned back, tapped the armrest, and looked up. “Cut.”

“…Huh?”

“Didn’t you want to practice?” Xu Yao scoffed and pulled him forward by the wrist. “Use the real thing—what’s the point of practicing on fakes?”

Chen Mi’s ears turned red. His fingers curled slightly.

Xu Yao’s hair was stiffer than the mannequin’s, jet-black and glossy, with a faint minty tobacco scent—so close.

Chen Mi swallowed. The scissors hovered over Xu Yao’s hair… and didn’t move.

“What are you afraid of?” Xu Yao looked up, his dark eyes locking onto Chen Mi’s. “If you mess it up, I’ll take the blame.”

Sunlight glinted off the scissors between them, casting a small reflection onto Xu Yao’s brow—Right where that crescent-shaped scar was.

Chen Mi’s fingers trembled slightly. His heartbeat was so loud he could hear it himself.