Chapter 11
“Buzz—buzz—”
The human had vanished from the doorway quite a while ago. The cotton doll’s eyes blinked continuously, staring curiously at the rectangular box on the desk that was making noise and trembling slightly.
Before long, a rush of somewhat hurried footsteps approached from a distance. Shang Che quickly rushed over, tapping the answer button a split second before the call hung up.
“Human…”
The cotton doll had barely called out to him in its soft, squishy voice when Shang Che immediately held a finger up to his lips, a warning glance in his eyes as a reminder for it to stay quiet.
“What took you so long to answer?” Lu Zeming’s perpetually cold voice came through the speaker.
“I didn’t have my phone on me,” Shang Che offered a brief explanation before cutting straight to the point, asking, “What’s up?”
Lu Zeming’s tone remained completely flat without a single ripple: “I don’t have money to pay for my meal. Come settle the bill.”
“…”
From this behavior—which was entirely out of character for Lu Zeming—Shang Che realized almost instantly that his friend was playing Truth or Dare. Adhering to the principle of not letting his friend lose, he said helplessly, “How much is it? I’ll transfer it to you.”
Lu Zeming: “I need you.”
“…Is something wrong with your head?” Shang Che couldn’t help but curse under his breath.
Seemingly realizing the ambiguity in his phrasing, Lu Zeming clarified: “In terms of physical distance.”
In the next second, he added: “…That still sounds weird.”
The veins on Shang Che’s temples throbbed. He took a deep breath: “What do you actually want? Just spit it out.”
Lu Zeming finally gave up struggling and said concisely, “Oh. I just need you to personally come over.”
“Not going,” Shang Che rejected him with equal decisiveness.
“Is our friendship not worth a bit of your valuable time?” Lu Zeming played the emotional card, his tone still calm as if delivering a report. “Who went skydiving, bungee jumping, and rock climbing with you? Who…”
“Hold on,” Shang Che cut him off. “Those were clearly all things you wanted to do, and I was just keeping you company.”
“Oh,” Lu Zeming finally abandoned his roundabout tactic, confessing honestly, “I don’t want to lose.”
He knew that was it. Shang Che pinched the bridge of his nose, his tone brimming with helplessness, yet he still agreed: “…Send me the address.”
He put down his phone with a sigh, raising his eyes only to meet the cotton doll’s face, which was beaming with curiosity.
“…What are you looking at me like that for?”
“Human is talking.” The cotton doll raised a soft, plush arm, pointing at the phone Shang Che had just set down: “The box… makes noise… and talks too.”
“This is a phone,” Shang Che corrected it crossly, feeling like a kindergarten teacher.
The cotton doll repeated earnestly: “Pho… ne. Human talks.”
“Mm,” Shang Che responded perfunctorily, turning around to walk over to the closet. He deftly changed into a very simple denim jacket, pulled out a black crossbody bag, and habitually tossed in small items like his earphones and tissues.
Then, he suddenly sensed an unignorable “gaze.”
Turning his head, he looked toward the rocking chair behind him—the cotton doll was sitting there quietly and obediently, seemingly observing his sequence of actions as he changed clothes, grabbed his things, and prepared to head out.
It looked no different from usual, yet for some reason, Shang Che felt that a trace of… focused curiosity seemed to bleed from those golden eyes, along with a touch of… faint, elusive anticipation.
Shang Che’s movement paused almost imperceptibly before he resumed what he was doing.
He tossed his keys into the bag, did a final check, and then picked up his phone to open the location pin Lu Zeming had sent. As he estimated the time and route, he could clearly feel the cotton doll’s attention glued firmly to him throughout the entire process.
“Human, what are you doing?”
The cotton doll’s soft, squishy voice sounded gently, sounding remarkably clear in the quiet room.
“Getting ready to go out,” Shang Che responded briefly.
“Go… out?” The cotton doll didn’t seem to understand the meaning of this phrase. It had clearly seen the human enter and exit through the bedroom door many times every day; why was it so “complex” this time?
Feeling a bit helpless, Shang Che explained: “It means going outside, and I’ll only come back after a while.”
“Go… outside?” the cotton doll pressed on, the curiosity in its tone becoming even more pronounced.
Shang Che slung the crossbody bag over his shoulder, adjusted it, and answered, “Right.”
The cotton doll let out an “oh” and continued to press for answers: “Is it the same… as going to school… that human mentioned?”
Shang Che: “…Not the same.”
The cotton doll seemed to hesitate for a second. Only after a few moments did it speak in a small, tentative voice: “Then where… is human going?”
“Will you come back… as punctually… as when you go to school?”
“Not necessarily,” Shang Che paused, suddenly realizing he had said a bit too much. The corner of his mouth twitched. “Why am I explaining all this to a cotton doll?”
“Then… when can Cotton… see human again…” The cotton doll asked in a pure tone filled with yearning: “Can Cotton… go… together?”
“No,” Shang Che blurted out his rejection almost instantaneously.
The cotton doll didn’t understand.
The human had said he couldn’t take it to school, so Cotton stayed at home waiting for him to return. But the human clearly didn’t have school today, so why did he have to leave too?
Perplexed, it asked: “Why?”
“It’s chaotic outside with a lot of people. It’s not suitable for you,” Shang Che found a reasonable-sounding explanation.
The cotton doll seemed to have anticipated this answer. It didn’t make another plea right away; only its golden eyes dimmed just a tiny fraction. It let out a quiet “oh,” speaking in an unusually well-behaved tone: “Then Cotton will stay at home… waiting for human to come back…”
It even tried its best to adjust its sitting posture to make itself look more “obedient,” as if saying: Look, I’m very well-behaved and won’t cause you any trouble.
Yet it was precisely this overly “sensible” look that caused the firm rejection in Shang Che’s heart to waver just a bit.
The cotton doll had indeed been very well-behaved lately. Every day, it either stared at him expectantly as he left for school or waited eagerly for him to come home after class. Even at night, it stayed completely quiet, to the point where Shang Che felt his recent sleep quality had stabilized quite a bit.
Taking an ordinary cotton doll outside wasn’t hard—these days, taking cotton dolls out and snapping photos of them seemed to have become a trend. However, taking this guy out carried an immense risk. After all, if someone accidentally discovered that it could move and speak…
Yet, Shang Che’s inner thoughts began to struggle before he knew it. His gaze landed on the rocking chair once more.
The cotton doll was still sitting there quietly, except the tuft of hair on its head hung down in a “wilted” posture. Those big eyes were brimmed with disappointment and caution, carrying a thoroughly pitiful air.
Shang Che: “…” Who is this pitiful act for?
Closing his eyes, he let out a sigh. Unsure if he was internally scolding himself for his inexplicably soft heart, he spoke in a rigid tone: “20 centimeters or 10 centimeters—pick one. If it’s too big, I can’t take it out.”
The tuft of hair on top of the cotton doll’s head instantly perked right up, and it spoke with extreme sensible eagerness: “Cotton is fine with either!”
“Wait here.” Shang Che dropped those two words and turned to leave the bedroom, returning before long with a cotton doll in each hand.
He unzipped his crossbody bag and held them up to measure—both sizes could fit inside. Then, he squatted down in front of the rocking chair, making eye contact with the cotton doll.
“You’ve been very good lately, so I can reward you with an outing this once. But you must strictly obey what I say next.”
The cotton doll nodded forcefully right away, its ahoge hair swaying back and forth as its body leaned forward. It extended two small round hands to hold onto Shang Che’s raised finger.
(?? ): “Cotton will obey!”
Shang Che allowed it to clutch his finger, speaking in a stern tone: “First, you must stay inside this bag the entire time. You cannot come out, and you cannot move around.”
“Mm!” The cotton doll agreed.
“Second, you are absolutely, positively not allowed to make a single sound. No matter what happens outside or what you hear, you are not allowed to talk or make any noise whatsoever.”
“Mm!” The cotton doll nodded its head with force once more.
“Third,” Shang Che looked at it, his tone pausing slightly: “If—and I mean if—an unexpected situation occurs, like the bag accidentally unzipping, you falling out of it, or someone seeing you, you must pretend to be the most ordinary, most normal cotton doll. Do you understand?”
“Normal?” The cotton doll felt confused by this word.
“Motionless, just like these two look right now.” Shang Che shook the two lifeless cotton dolls in his hand.
“Cotton understands.” The cotton doll bent its soft arms over its chest, patting them twice with its small round hands as it guaranteed: “Cotton will do it!”
Shang Che took a deep breath, as if making a final mental preparation: “If you fail to do so, I will never take you out again.”
The cotton doll’s voice carried an irrepressible joy: “Cotton remembered!”
Shang Che hesitated no longer. Unzipping the crossbody bag, he held the 10-centimeter cotton doll in his left hand and the 20-centimeter cotton doll in his right, asking it: “Pick one.”
No sooner had his words landed than the 20-centimeter cotton doll in his right hand shot him a playful blink.
…It really couldn’t wait.
Shang Che felt somewhat speechless, yet he still carefully tucked it into the bag. He could even feel the cotton doll adjusting its position inside to make itself sit more comfortably.
He slung the bag back over his shoulder and tested the weight—it was very light, possessing almost no sense of presence.
“Starting now, stay quiet,” he lowered his head, whispering to the slightly bulging bag.
An extremely faint rustle of fabric friction came from inside the bag. The cotton doll’s muffled voice didn’t sound entirely clear, yet it remained joyous: “Cotton knows now~”
Shang Che crossed the living room, walking to the foyer to change his shoes. Throughout the process, his pace was faster than usual, and his heartbeat inexplicably sped up a bit—as if he were engaging in something secretive yet bold.
The moment the front door swung open, he took a deep breath, stepped outside, and locked the door behind him.
Click.
The lock engaged with a crisp sound. Shang Che’s footsteps paused, and he suddenly added a line toward the bag at his side: “…If I take the initiative to speak to you, that means you can make noise.”
A response came from inside the bag—one that was desperately suppressed, yet still burst with audible delight:
“Okay~”
