Chapter 80: Combing Hair

In the blink of an eye, it was Miaomiao’s birthday—March 14th, a Sunday.

A little after seven in the morning, Ming Can went to Miaomiao’s room to help him wash up and get dressed.

“Mom, I’m six years old today!” Miaomiao washed his face and brushed his teeth by himself, then climbed onto the bed, bouncing excitedly. “Six is three more than three! That’s two three-year-old kids!”

“Baby, you’re amazing! You even know multiplication!” Ming Can praised him while taking out the clothes he would wear today from the wardrobe.

Ming Can had told Miaomiao earlier that his birthday party would have his favorite zoo theme. When she asked him what he wanted to wear, he said he wanted to dress like a little animal caretaker. So, Ming Can prepared a sky-blue sweater, black overalls printed with pandas, and a blue work-style jacket. When he put it on, he looked especially cool—and perfect for taking care of animals!

“It rained all day yesterday. Even though the sun is out today, it’s still quite cold,” Ming Can said, standing in front of Miaomiao’s wardrobe. She opened a large drawer on the far side. “You can’t catch a cold on your birthday. Let’s add a hat and scarf.”

Miaomiao’s scarves were neatly folded in the drawer. Ming Can sifted through them and saw a light gray wool scarf. She picked it up. “I don’t remember seeing this one before. Did your dad buy it for you?”

Miaomiao glanced at it and said, “Dad knitted this one.”

Ming Can suddenly remembered—during the New Year gift exchange, Miaomiao had mentioned that among the many gifts Chi Xiao gave him, there was a hand-knitted scarf.

“Then let’s wear this one today.”

She unfolded the scarf. The light gray cashmere was soft and thick, with fine, even stitches—flawless, without a single loose thread. It was just as good as a machine-made one.

His craftsmanship was truly impressive.

Ming Can silently marveled at it, then walked over to Miaomiao and wrapped the scarf around his neck, loop by loop.

The house was heated, so Miaomiao wriggled uncomfortably. “It’s so hot.”

“Just keep it on for a second. I’ll take it off right away.” Ming Can looked at him with a smile. “It looks nice.”

As she unwrapped the scarf, she held onto the soft, comfortable fabric, and for a moment, her mind wandered.

She suddenly wondered—Chi Xiao had secretly liked her for so long, so why hadn’t he knitted one for her too? Then, a thought struck her. She actually did have a scarf that looked very similar to Miaomiao’s—solid-colored, cashmere, hand-knitted.

Seeing Ming Can dazing off for no apparent reason, Miaomiao asked, “Mom, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Ming Can said. “I just suddenly remembered that I used to have a burgundy scarf, a little longer than yours, and it was also hand-knitted by someone.”

Miaomiao instinctively asked, “Wasn’t it Dad who made it?”

Ming Can fell silent for a moment before saying, “Maybe.”

She draped the scarf over her arm, took Miaomiao’s hand after he finished dressing, and walked out of the bedroom toward the living room.

The bright morning sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting a golden glow across the living room, making it look like a house made of glass. Every corner seemed filled with light.

Chi Xiao was sitting on the sofa, brushing Xiao Xiao’s fur.

He was wearing a white crewneck sweater and black straight-leg pants. His hair looked like it had just been washed that morning—fluffy and slightly tousled, catching the sunlight with a soft golden sheen.

Xiao Xiao’s fur on its head and face had been left long on purpose for styling. The seaweed-like, unruly strands had now been brushed smooth and neat. Chi Xiao lowered his gaze at the creamy white, gold-tinged little creature in his lap. One hand was holding the fur on its forehead, while the other pinched a small hair tie, preparing to tie it up.

“Dad!” The moment Miaomiao saw him, he shouted loudly, “Look at my new clothes today!”

Chi Xiao lifted his head, his hand unconsciously tightening. Xiao Xiao, caught in his grip, rolled its eyes dramatically.

Ming Can lightly patted her son. “Lower your voice. Stop being so jumpy.”

Ming Can: [Your dad is brushing the dog’s fur—such a gentle, warm, and touching scene, and you just had to ruin it, kid.]

Miaomiao: …

Mother and son didn’t even bother with breakfast—they flanked Chi Xiao from both sides, watching him tie Xiao Xiao’s hair.

As the room quieted down, Xiao Xiao’s little head gradually drooped, looking as if it was about to fall asleep.

“It looks so comfortable,” Miaomiao said enviously, holding one of Xiao Xiao’s paws. “Dad, I want you to brush my hair too.”

Chi Xiao glanced at the short fuzz on Miaomiao’s head. “Grow it out for six months first.”

“…” Miaomiao turned to look at Ming Can’s long, jet-black hair cascading down her back, smooth and glossy like a waterfall. “Then, Dad, you can do Mom’s hair!”

“No way.” Ming Can instinctively refused. “Am I a dog?”

Miaomiao pouted, but in his head, he could already hear his mom picking out hairstyles.

Chi Xiao finished tying a fluffy three-strand braid on Xiao Xiao’s head, then added two little ponytails on either side. Ming Can thought it looked too plain, so she ran to the walk-in closet and grabbed several crystal-embedded hair clips, decorating Xiao Xiao until it sparkled.

“Done.” Chi Xiao placed Xiao Xiao on the ground.

This little thing was such a hassle. Its fur was long, fine, and prone to tangling—just detangling and grooming it every morning was exhausting, let alone styling it. Chi Xiao only had time to do it on mornings when he didn’t have class. When he was busy, he’d just grab the fur haphazardly, tie it up along with the ears, and leave the eyes exposed—making Xiao Xiao look like a pineapple.

Chi Xiao rolled his shoulders, about to stand up, when he noticed Miaomiao had already run off to eat. But Ming Can was still sitting beside him, not moving.

Chi Xiao: “Is something wrong?”

Ming Can: “Nothing.”

Silence.

After a moment, Ming Can took out the phone she had been holding onto for a while and placed it on the table. Casually, as if it were an afterthought, she pointed at the photo on the screen and asked, “What do you think? How would this hairstyle look on me today?”

Chi Xiao glanced at the phone and nodded. “Looks good.”

His tone was indifferent, as if he hadn’t picked up on the deeper meaning behind her words at all.

“What do you mean ‘looks good’?” Ming Can huffed. “I can’t braid it myself—I’m all thumbs.”

Chi Xiao let out a neutral “Oh.”

As soon as the word left his mouth, he caught sight of Ming Can staring at him intensely from the corner of his eye, fire practically burning in her gaze. It was as if the moment he dared to stand up and walk away, she would pounce and sink her teeth into him.

“Then I’ll give it a try?”

“Help me.”

They spoke at the same time. As Ming Can spoke, she tugged at Chi Xiao’s sleeve without thinking. He froze for a moment, amusement flickering in his eyes. “Is this you acting cute?”

“…” Ming Can immediately let go. Some things were better left unsaid, but this guy just had to point them out. “You’re seriously annoying.”

Chi Xiao replied without a care, “No matter how annoying, I still managed to get a girlfriend.”

His tone carried a smug lilt, stretching at the end as if he were showing off. Just as Ming Can shot him a sharp glare, he got up and strolled toward the bathroom. He carefully washed his hands with foam, while Ming Can ran into the bedroom and came back with a large tabletop mirror, setting it on the coffee table.

The mirror faced her directly. Chi Xiao dried his hands, sat behind her, and gathered her long hair, sweeping it over her shoulder. As the weight of her hair lifted, Ming Can suddenly felt a lightness at the back of her head. At that moment, all her attention was drawn to the touch of his hands.

He lowered his head and carefully went through the hair tutorial on Ming Can’s phone. It was called a Sweet Floral Bun with Loose Waves—didn’t seem too difficult.

Ming Can kept her eyes on the mirror, watching as those pale, well-defined hands gently worked through her hair, slowly smoothing it out before starting to braid.

“Don’t make it too tight,” Ming Can said. “It’ll wrap around my face.”

“Why?”

“Looser hair makes my face look smaller.”

“Your face is already small,” Chi Xiao replied. “No need to make it look smaller.”

It was such a casual remark, but it flattered Ming Can so much that her ears burned.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Miaomiao running over with food in his mouth, pointing his kid’s smartwatch camera at her and Chi Xiao. Instinctively, Ming Can covered her face. “What are you doing?”

After a moment, she realized she was being too shy—especially since today was Miaomiao’s birthday. She removed her hands and instead cupped her face in a playful pose, facing Miaomiao’s camera. “I’m blooming!”

A soft chuckle came from behind her, like drifting willow fluff sneaking into her ear, making her earlobes flush even redder. Ming Can stubbornly kept her hands up and asked, “Baby, are you done taking pictures?”

“I’m recording a video!” Miaomiao announced. “Dad, look this way too!”

“Give me a sec,” Chi Xiao said. “Let me finish this braid first. If I mess it up, she’ll scold me.”

“Who scolded you?” Ming Can turned back and punched him lightly. “Miaomiao’s recording! Can’t you say something nice about me?”

“I was wrong. Miaomiao’s mom is gentle, kind, and well-mannered—she has never scolded me.” Chi Xiao shamelessly corrected himself, then turned her head back to face forward. He added, “And you, watch yourself—don’t commit domestic violence on camera.”

Ming Can: “…”

Ming Can snapped her gaze back to the mirror, glaring at it in frustration, looking for something to criticize. But when she saw what Chi Xiao had done so far, she was momentarily stunned. The braid was loosely woven, shaped like delicate flower petals, looking even better than the tutorial model’s.

With no real flaws to nitpick, she forced one out anyway. “You don’t seem like a beginner. Who else have you braided hair for?”

“I’ve been braiding the dog’s hair for days now…”

“CHI! XIAO!”

Ming Can couldn’t take it anymore. She spun around, and with just a light push on his chest, she somehow managed to topple a 1.9-meter-tall man onto the sofa.

As Chi Xiao fell back, he instinctively grabbed her wrist, pulling her down with him.

Now lying on the couch, he lifted his gaze to the person who had just “pinned” him down, his eyebrows slightly raised. He looked utterly defenseless, as if he had no strength to resist and was at her mercy.

Ming Can’s long hair slid down over her shoulders, brushing against Chi Xiao’s face, carrying a faint floral scent.

Meanwhile, little journalist Miaomiao was still holding up his smartwatch, faithfully recording everything while trying to mediate. “Dad, Mom, don’t fight!”

“We’re not fighting.” Ming Can propped herself up slightly and lightly patted Chi Xiao’s face twice. “Your dad braided my hair so well—I’m rewarding him.”

Then she beckoned Miaomiao closer. “Come here, bring the camera in… that’s it, zoom in on his face… I’m going to give him a makeover too.”