Chapter 13
The men’s restroom stall was hardly a pleasant place. Shang Che wasn’t an extreme germaphobe, but he was certainly someone who liked cleanliness; taking the cotton doll out of his bag in a place like this was virtually impossible. Moreover, he couldn’t be sure when someone else might walk into the adjacent stall and hear him talking to who-knows-what.
Except this time, his refusal wasn’t as direct.
Shang Che could tell that even though the cotton doll was trying its best to mask it, the words it spoke still betrayed the fact that it was scared.
“It’s not convenient right now.”
As if afraid of being overheard, his voice was kept extremely soft, almost down to a whisper, sounding remarkably gentle. “Wait for me a moment.”
Shang Che pressed the flush button, stepped out of the stall as if nothing had happened, and meticulously washed his hands before shifting the crossbody bag on his back around to his chest.
His palm rested casually on the bag’s wide strap, but his index finger secretly slipped in through the slightly loosened slit of the zipper.
The cotton doll had indeed been scared half to death earlier. Mindful of its promise to the human to remain quiet, it had endured in silence the entire time, only responding as agreed once the human took the initiative to speak to it.
The human had asked if it was uncomfortable anywhere. In truth, the cotton doll didn’t even know the answer itself, only able to reply with a “no.”
Dogs and children—the cotton doll didn’t know what those were either. It only knew the first human it had ever laid eyes on and trusted only him. Cotton desperately, desperately wanted to see him right now.
So, after a moment of hesitation, the cotton doll had quietly and tentatively blurted out the words it had been longing to say—it wanted to look at the human, right this instant.
When the human said it was “inconvenient,” the cotton doll felt a slight pang of disappointment, yet it still obeyed submissively, completely unable to comprehend what the human meant by “wait for me a moment.”
—Until the finger pad gently rubbed the tuft of ahoge hair atop its head, and slivers of light seeped into the dusty gray bag.
Human is petting Cotton!
This realization sent an uncontrollable surge of excitement through the cotton doll, instantly sweeping away all its previous fright and fear. Its eyes snapped wide open, wanting to let out happy little whimpers to express its affection like a pet suddenly soothed by its owner.
“Human…” Before the sound could even fully leave its mouth—so low that even it couldn’t hear—the cotton doll shut its mouth tight.
Cotton cannot make noise. Cotton promised the human.
But Cotton is so happy~
Human is petting Cotton. Cotton loves it!
The cotton doll thought for a long while before coming up with a way to convey its affection to Shang Che without speaking a word.
It proactively rubbed its head against the finger resting atop its crown. A shy blush crept across its soft, chubby little face. The entire doll was both surprised and overjoyed, its mouth parted so wide it could barely close.
Shang Che felt the little cotton head swaying subtly from side to side under the pad of his finger, unable to help finding it somewhat amusing. He guided his finger downward along the doll’s head, gliding past its hairpiece and landing on that white, chubby cheek, giving it a gentle pinch.
A few minutes later, as Shang Che walked out of the park, his eyes caught a glimpse of his own reflection in a wide-angle convex traffic mirror—his proportions looked bizarrely distorted, yet the corners of his mouth were subtly curved upward. He instantly snapped his expression back to a flat line.
“…”
What was he smiling for? Was something funny?
He must have lost his mind to resort to such a method to soothe a cotton doll.
Just as Shang Che was about to withdraw his finger, it was suddenly entangled by two soft little hands. Immediately after, a sensation of something pressed against him made him freeze in surprise. By the time he realized what was happening, the motion that should have heartlessly pulled away was hit with a pause button, and Shang Che turned his face away awkwardly.
…This cotton doll…
…had actually hugged his finger… tightly into its chest.
What a little creature… that truly knew how to give an inch and take a mile.
Getting closer and closer to the location Lu Zeming sent, the phone in Shang Che’s pocket suddenly vibrated.
With his finger still held hostage by the cotton doll, he had no choice but to awkwardly pull out his phone from the pocket on his other side with a backhanded reach.
Seemingly feeling that the wait had been too long, his friend couldn’t help sending a message.
[Zeming]: A-Che, if I recall correctly, you haven’t been prone to getting lost since you were five.
[Zeming]: May I ask where on earth you’ve been all this time?
[Zeming]: Little A-Che, do you need older brother to come lead the way for you?
With his hand awkward, typing was inconvenient. Shang Che scrolled through his emojis for a good while before finally finding a satisfying one. After clicking send, his pace quickened substantially, completely uncaring of what kind of expression his friend would make upon receiving it.
[Mind your own business. (A penguin crossing its arms and swaying left and right.jpg)]
Taking the elevator to the fourth floor, Shang Che followed the signs to locate the board game lounge tucked in a corner. Seeing no one around, he pulled open the door to the adjacent stairwell.
After confirming it was a blind spot for security cameras, Shang Che finally had the chance to unzip his crossbody bag. He tried to pull his finger out, only for the cotton doll to wrap its hands and feet around it even tighter. A “creak” sounded somewhat distinctly in the quiet space.
“You can let go now.”
Shang Che wiggled his finger, attempting to shake off this clingy little thing.
The cotton doll didn’t make a sound. Only after a few seconds did it stubbornly whisper back: “No.”
Shang Che: “…Didn’t you say you wanted to look at me? How are you going to look if you keep holding my hand like this?”
“Let go, and I’ll open the bag so you can see me.”
The cotton doll hesitated. It wanted to see the human, and it also wanted to hold the human’s hand. Why couldn’t there be an option where it could both look at the human and hold his hand?
But… the human could be seen every day, whereas he couldn’t be touched every day. The cotton doll decisively hugged the hand tight once more, remaining silent.
“…”
There was no other way. Shang Che let out a helpless sigh, having no choice but to awkwardly unzip the crossbody bag with a backhanded reach. When it reached halfway, it inevitably got stuck. He gauged the size, confirmed it was enough for the cotton doll to come out, and then raised his arm.
The cotton doll watched as the space before its eyes grew brighter and brighter—the bag trapping it was torn open by a massive “crack.” Immediately after, its entire plush body was lifted into the air by the rising arm, coming face-to-face with Shang Che, who was leaning down and tilting his head slightly.
“Human!” The cotton doll called out to him with great excitement.
Shang Che maintained an expressionless face, offering a flat response: “Mm.”
The cotton doll’s sparkling starry eyes looked around curiously, asking Shang Che with a face full of excitement: “Human, is this the outside?”
Shang Che: “…Not quite. This is a stairwell.”
“Stairwell…” The cotton doll parted its mouth, repeating in a small voice. “Why did human… come to the stairwell?”
“To test if you still remember what we agreed on.” Shang Che paused, his voice slow as if guiding it: “Stay inside this bag the entire time, and you are not allowed to…”
The cotton doll picked up the cue effortlessly, continuing: “Not allowed to move around… not allowed to make noise…”
“Must be like… a normal… cotton doll.”
Shang Che nodded in satisfaction, casually praising it: “Good memory.”
“Go back inside the bag. I’m going to see other humans in a bit.”
Hearing that it had to go back inside the dark crossbody bag again, the cotton doll asked rather pitifully: “Then can Cotton still… hold human’s hand?”
Looking at that pleading little expression, Shang Che found it hard to utter a firm “no.” He shrugged, striking a deal with the cotton doll with an air of complete helplessness: “…If you can manage everything we just talked about and don’t get caught, I’ll let you hold it on the way back.”
The cotton doll nodded its little head forcefully: “Cotton can!”
Shang Che lowered his arm, holding the bag’s opening spread out with one hand as he sent it back inside: “There’s still time right now, you can adjust your position…”
He was too focused, so much so that he failed to hear the approaching footsteps—until the handle clicked downward, and Lu Zeming’s voice carried through the door:
“A-Che, is that you in the stairwell? Who are you talking to?”
