Chapter 5 The Eldest Sister-in-Law and Her Macho Young Husband (1)
Yan Shuyi felt that her request was not excessive at all.
It's not that she doesn't want to pay; her phone is just temporarily broken.
He lent her 3,000 yuan so she could buy a new phone, and she could pay him back immediately.
You'll get 5000 back, including principal and interest.
I will try to charge as high a price as possible based on the final product when it comes to tattooing.
Besides, 3000 isn't much; it can only buy a terminal device for a mobile phone. Who would scam someone for such a small amount of money?
In conclusion, it is very reasonable.
This tattoo artist is guaranteed to make money; it would be crazy to refuse.
Cheng Hu's idea was—
Oh no, this girl must have had a huge fight with her family and her brain has been fried by anger.
And so, the two stared at each other quietly for five seconds.
Finally, Cheng Hu spoke first, scratching his prickly buzz cut: "Uh, why don't you dry your hair first before we talk?"
After thinking it over, he was still a little worried about the girl.
The tattoo industry is a mixed bag, and if she goes to another shop in her confused state, she might run into bad people.
If you're going to be a good Samaritan, be careful.
"There's a hairdryer in the restroom inside..." Cheng Hu glanced at the dimly lit cubicle hidden deep inside the shop and immediately changed his mind, "Never mind, I'll just take it out and you can use it outside."
Then he got up and went inside to take out a silver hair dryer that looked very professional but was actually a cheap, plasticky brand.
He bought it with his first month's apprentice salary when he was learning hairdressing; it has great sentimental value and he can't bear to throw it away.
"Thanks." Yan Shuyi took the hair dryer, glanced at the dark corridor filled with various tattoos and skull paintings, and then looked at the restroom at the far end of the shop. She suddenly smiled.
This person probably felt that it was unsafe for a girl to walk alone into an unfamiliar enclosed space, so he took it out on purpose.
It looks rough and careless, but it's actually quite meticulous.
The buzzing of the hairdryer filled the store, the powerful hot air carrying moisture and a faint scent of shampoo, swirling in the small space.
Cheng Hu sat back down in his original seat and raised his voice, saying, "You're done talking? Go look at the magazine yourself! I'm going to eat first!"
Yan Shuyi held a hairdryer in her right hand and haphazardly ran her fingers through her hair with her left. She glanced at the bowl full of spicy hot pot and nodded.
Although she didn't say anything, Yan Shuyi was thinking to herself: Wow, she can really eat!
Fortunately, although Cheng Hu ate a lot, he also ate quickly.
The battle was over in about 15 minutes.
He finished a can of cola in two gulps, cleaned up the bowls, chopsticks and various condiments on the table very efficiently, and when he came out of the warehouse, Cheng Hu had already changed into a black apron, medical mask, nitrile gloves, and was also holding a pair of goggles.
Yan Shuyi: "..."
Given Cheng Hu's physique, paired with these props, it doesn't look like a tattoo, but rather like she's about to be dissected.
"Why do you need to wear goggles when you get a tattoo?" Yan Shuyi asked, her voice carrying a hint of tension that she herself didn't even realize.
Cheng Hu thought to himself: Sure enough, he had never had a tattoo before.
But she still explained, "Oh, this? It's a must! It's for protecting your eyes. If, while you're getting a tattoo, a bloodstain or ink droplet flies up and gets into your eyes, that would be a big problem."
As he spoke, he pushed over a small stainless steel cart that gleamed with a cold metallic light. Neatly arranged on it were needle holders, ink cups, and various unidentifiable sharp instruments that gleamed with an eerie cold light.
He picked up a needle as thin as a wheat awn and waved it in front of Yan Shuyi with a hint of intimidation, the metal tip flashing coldly: "Look, this is a tattoo needle. If you stick this in, it will still draw some blood."
Cheng Hu's inner voice was laughing hysterically: Haha! Scared now! The newbie really is clueless! Quickly say, "Forget it, I won't get the tattoo," and go home!
Yan Shuyi breathed a sigh of relief, her tense shoulders relaxing: "It's alright, as long as it's not a dissection. This is a society governed by law after all; I really overthought things."
She nodded, casually picked up the dark-style tattoo magazine next to her with its curled edges, and precisely pointed to an intricate and ferocious skull design: "Okay, let's get this one."
Cheng Hu: "......" Hmm? Why is this different from what I imagined?
Cheng Hu was still in a daze, but Yan Shuyi had already made up her mind: "It'll be on the right arm."
Cheng Hu almost choked on his own saliva: "Wait...wait a minute."
Yan Shuyi continued, "It doesn't need to be too big, about 15 centimeters is fine."
Did she press the fast-forward button? I was just stunned by the props, and in the blink of an eye, she's already pinpointed the size and position perfectly? What's wrong with this girl? How did she adjust her mindset so quickly?!
Cheng Hu pointed at the design, his voice rising three octaves: "This isn't big?! For a newcomer, it's already huge!!"
Cheng Hu used all his persuasive skills and almost heartfelt arguments to convince Yan Shuyi to change her mind. She reduced the size of the graphic and moved it to a slightly more concealed location.
Ultimately, Yan Shuyi decided to get the tattoo on her right shoulder.
As Yan Shuyi lay on the black leather tattoo chair, the cool leather against her collarbone caused goosebumps to rise on the skin—the spot Cheng Hu had just carefully disinfected with alcohol.
"Are you sure this is the place?" Cheng Hu asked from behind her, his voice sounding somewhat muffled under his mask.
"Right here." Yan Shuyi's voice came from the chair, with a muffled tone that came from lying down, sounding far less decisive than before.
"Fine." Cheng Hu sighed resignedly, and the metal instruments on the cart made a crisp sound as they clattered together.
Something sharp pierced my skin.
"Hiss—" Yan Shuyi gasped unexpectedly.
A sharp, clear stinging sensation instantly pierced the cold surface, like being pricked by the finest ice needle, followed by a continuously spreading, burning sensation of numbness and tingling.
It wasn't as painful as she had imagined, but it was just as clear and profound.
She clenched her fist tightly, her nails digging into her palm.
"It's okay, it's okay, don't be nervous, relax, the tighter you are, the more it will hurt! Let's chat and distract ourselves." Cheng Hu's voice came through the mask, low and deep. "Talk to me, in such heavy rain, why did you have such a bad idea to run out and get a tattoo all by yourself?"
Yan Shuyi was in pain and couldn't be bothered with him.
So Cheng Hu could only say to himself, "I know even if you don't say it. Actually, it's quite normal for someone your age to have disagreements with their family."
Yan Shuyi stiffened for a moment, but still didn't say anything.
Cheng Hu seemed oblivious to her silent resistance, his hands moving steadily and smoothly, his words sounding like he was comforting a neighbor's child: "It's not those kinds of things."
What? You think they're too nosy, interfering too much, and don't respect your ideas, etc.?
Yan Shuyi, lying down, mocked, "Don't tell me things like 'Parents are also first-time parents,' that's so corny."
That's a ten-year-old inspirational quote; it's too outdated for her to accept.
Cheng Hu: "Okay, it is a bit old-fashioned. But there's nothing wrong with that. Who told you not to raise your parents well?"
Yan Shuyi was stunned for a moment, even doubting her own ears: "What?"
Didn't you raise your parents well? Is this still Chinese?
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