The Daughter-In-Law Is So Pitiful? Just Take Her Home and Pamper Her! - Chapter 7

Chapter 7: Chen Mi’s Observation Diary

The moment the lights went out, the entire room was plunged into darkness.
Yet, within that darkness, the corners of Chen Mi’s lips gently lifted into a smile.

He stood quietly in place, reaching up to lightly touch his newly trimmed bangs. The sensation of his fingertips brushing through the neat fringe brought an inexplicable sense of comfort, even a hint of excitement.

Meanwhile, the sound of Xu Yao tidying up drifted through the air.
First came the crisp clinks of scissors knocking together—each clear note echoing in the quiet night, like every metallic tap was knocking on something deep inside Chen Mi’s heart.

Then came the soft thud of a towel being tossed into the laundry basket. Though not as sharp as the scissors, the sound carried a certain weight—just like the sour, swollen feeling sitting in Chen Mi’s chest.

Finally, there was the subtle shhk of the razor—always tucked at Xu Yao’s waist—being gently placed back into the drawer.
It was faint, barely audible, but it made Chen Mi’s heartbeat skip all the same.

The next day.

After several failed attempts at fixing Xu Yao’s bangs, Chen Mi ended up giving him a full buzz cut.

It wasn’t bad though.
The clean lines made Xu Yao’s features look even sharper.

Xu Yao stood in front of the mirror, running his fingers over the stiff stubble of his new buzz cut. As his fingertips swept across the bristles, a small, unconscious smile played on his lips. Beside him, Ah Hei was holding back laughter so hard his face had turned red.

“What the hell are you laughing at?” Xu Yao shot him a sideways glare.
“Laugh again and I’ll dock your entire paycheck.”

Ah Hei shut up immediately, but his eyes were still crinkled with amusement.

Xu Yao couldn’t be bothered to argue. He turned his head toward the staircase—Chen Mi was slowly making his way down, broom in hand, pretending to sweep.

“Come here,” Xu Yao crooked his finger.

Chen Mi eyed him warily. “…What for?”

“To settle accounts.” Xu Yao pulled out a sheet of paper from the drawer.
On it, a dramatic scrawl read:

“Apprentice Chen Mi – ruined boss’s hairstyle 3 times. Compensation: -1500 yuan.”

“However, final result acceptable. Partial reduction: +1000 yuan.”

“Net debt: -500 yuan.”

Chen Mi stared at the paper, his mouth twitching uncontrollably.

After a long moment, he squeezed out through gritted teeth: “…You wanted a buzz cut from the start, didn’t you?”

Xu Yao raised an eyebrow at that, his expression somewhere between amused and smug.
“Hmm?”

Chen Mi, emboldened by the lack of denial, muttered softly, “Then why’d you hand me the clippers on the fourth try? You could’ve fixed it…”

His voice grew smaller and smaller, the last words barely audible.
His fingers absentmindedly twisted the edge of his apron, wrinkling the fabric.

Suddenly, Xu Yao leaned forward, elbows resting on the counter.
Under the lights, the stubble on his freshly shaved head glinted faintly, casting tiny shadows with each movement.
Chen Mi caught the familiar scent of minty tobacco and lemon shampoo wafting from him.

“Little apprentice,” Xu Yao said in a low, dangerous voice,
“do you know what it means to shave a man’s head?”

Chen Mi instinctively took half a step back, bumping into the shelf that held dyeing products.
The curlers rattled against each other with a muffled clunk.
He saw Xu Yao’s gaze drop to his neck—his Adam’s apple bobbed involuntarily.

“Back home,” Xu Yao said slowly, fingers tapping rhythmically on the counter,
“only the closest person is allowed to touch a man’s hair.”

Tap. Tap. Tap.
Each tap merged with the thudding of Chen Mi’s own heartbeat.

Behind them, Ah Hei pretended to fold towels, wishing he had supernatural hearing.

Chen Mi’s face flushed red at a speed visible to the naked eye—Starting from his ears and spreading all the way to his collarbone.

He opened his mouth, but no sound came out.
Then he turned and bolted back up the attic stairs.

Chen Mi had a little notebook.

A palm-sized journal (secretly bought with his own saved-up money), hidden under his pillow, where he documented everything about Xu Yao’s habits—

6:30 AM wake-up (touches his earring first to make sure it’s there, then sits up and zones out for three minutes)
Coffee with three sugars, no milk (claims he hates sweets—suspected lie; probably loves them)
Left shoulder aches on rainy days (massages it subconsciously, won’t admit it)
Hates celery (pretends to eat it, secretly spits it out)
…

He wrote meticulously, with tidy handwriting and even doodled—Like Xu Yao’s frowning face while fixing electronics, or the shadow of his lashes when he falls asleep on the couch.

Just now, Chen Mi had added a brand-new entry—”Xu Yao, final hairstyle: buzz cut.”

“Reason: ruined by me three (crossed out) four (crossed out) three times; on the fourth, shaved it all off.”
“Note: surprisingly suits him.”

He lay sprawled on the attic bed, sunlight spilling over his back.
His pen hovered for a moment, then he added one more line:

“Buzz cut texture: like freshly harvested wheat stubble—kind of prickly, but warm.”

As soon as he finished, his ears turned red. Snap!
He shut the notebook and shoved it back under the pillow.

—And then, a hand reached over his shoulder and yanked the notebook away.

Chen Mi froze.
Slowly turning his head, he came face to face with the last person he wanted to see.

Xu Yao stood behind him, expression unreadable as he flipped through the “Observation Diary.”
With each page turn, his eyebrow arched a little higher.

The air froze for a full ten seconds.

Chen Mi quietly braced himself, waiting for his “death sentence.”

“…Care to explain?” Xu Yao asked, shaking the notebook.
A coin fell out from between the pages and rolled across the floor.

Chen Mi stared at the floor.
“…Accounting.”

“Pfft—” Xu Yao snorted with laughter.

Seeing him laugh, Chen Mi relaxed a little—Until the next second— “Bullshit,” Xu Yao scoffed,
“You were ‘accounting’ when you recorded how I drool in my sleep?”

Chen Mi’s ears turned scarlet.
He reached out to grab the notebook back, but Xu Yao caught his wrist.

“You care that much about me?” Xu Yao’s voice dropped lower, laced with danger.
“Why not just ask me directly?”

Chen Mi opened his mouth to respond, still scrambling for words,
But Xu Yao had already flipped to the last page—A rough sketch of a tattoo, next to a note:

“Looks exactly like the one at Broken Soul Cliff back home.”

The air turned still.

Xu Yao stared at that line for a long time.
So long that Chen Mi thought he was about to explode.

But in the end, Xu Yao simply closed the notebook and handed it back.

Then, he gave Chen Mi a casual pat on the head—”Draw it better next time.”

With that, he turned and headed downstairs.
His back looked as lazy as always—Except, maybe…
Were his ears a little red?

Chen Mi sat there, stunned.
He looked down at the notebook in his hands—Then suddenly broke into a smile.

Maybe, just maybe…
This kind of life wasn’t so bad?

At least, he didn’t yet know—That these peaceful and beautiful days wouldn’t last much longer.