Chapter 22
Shang Che had just turned off the faucet and scooped up a handful of cold water to splash onto his face. The wet strands of hair on his forehead clung to his skin, with water droplets sliding down his sharply defined jawline. Opening his eyes, he looked into the mirror above the sink and met a pair of big golden eyes overflowing with terror—along with the tiny pink reflection inside the glass making the exact same frightened expression.
The cotton doll saw that the “Cotton” in the mirror was still copying its every move. Its big golden eyes instantly beamed a distress signal: Cotton doesn’t know what’s happening! Human, come save me!
“That’s you,” Shang Che’s voice sounded steadily, carrying a touch of freshness after washing up.
Leaning one hand on the marble counter, his tall frame stood right behind the cotton doll, almost completely enveloping the tiny figure on the counter and creating a starkly contrasting picture in the mirror. He then tapped his knuckle against the glass. “This is called a mirror. It reflects whatever is in front of it, like you and me.”
“Mir… ror…” The cotton doll parroted the new word, its eyes glued to its reflection without a single blink.
After a brief silence, it carefully raised a small round hand, gently pressing it against its cheek, then against its embroidered cat-like mouth, and finally over those big golden eyes reflecting the faint glimmer of the mirror. It even seemed to want to stroke the unruly tuft of ahoge hair atop its head, but reluctantly gave up due to its short arms.
“Human,” the cotton doll’s tone turned somewhat subtle as it pointed a small round hand at the pink figure pointing back at it in the mirror, “is this… what Cotton looks like?”
The cotton doll in the mirror possessed big eyes embroidered with golden thread that radiated a soft sheen under the light, fine and even stitches outlining its cat-like mouth into a perfectly curved arc, and neatly cut pink hairpieces that looked flowing and soft.
All in all, it was an exquisitely crafted, overly adorable cotton doll.
“Mm.” Shang Che’s gaze fell upon the mirror, nodding.
“What Cotton looks like…” the cotton doll repeated, still staring into the mirror. No longer afraid or fidgeting, it merely gazed quietly at the image in the glass as if truly “meeting” itself for the very first time, the tuft of hair on its head swaying ever so slightly.
A few seconds later, it suddenly turned its round head, raising its face to look up at its keeper right beside it.
Shang Che was looking into the mirror too—or rather, looking at the human and doll reflected in the mirror. His face was devoid of extra expression, the lingering weariness from waking up not yet fully dissipated. The moisture dampening his brow and eyes softened his usual cold sharpness, revealing a rare, defenseless gentleness.
The cotton doll extended its small round hand, this time pointing at Shang Che’s reflection in the mirror: “Is this one in the mirror… a human too?”
Hearing this, the corner of Shang Che’s mouth curved upward ever so slightly. Pointing a finger at himself and then at “himself” in the mirror, he asked, “Do you think ‘I’ and ‘he’ look alike?”
The cotton doll seemed to genuinely engage in a serious comparison, its big golden eyes shifting back and forth between the real person and the mirror image several times before nodding solemnly: “Alike!”
Then, without the slightest hesitation, it pointed at the real Shang Che standing beside it, loudly announcing in a naive tone: “But this one… looks even better!”
“…” Unprepared for the cotton doll’s direct compliment, Shang Che choked for a second, a faint warmth creeping onto the tips of his ears as he turned his gaze away awkwardly. “…Stop looking at me. Look at yourself.”
…Look at itself?
The cotton doll half-understood, submissively redirecting its attention back to the mirror’s surface.
In the mirror, a cotton doll with pink hair and golden eyes sported a sticking-up tuft of ahoge hair, its stitched mouth parted slightly in a dazed, cute expression. And behind it stood its human keeper, wearing a somewhat subtle expression and displaying faintly flushed ears.
The cotton doll blinked, and its reflection blinked as well.
The cotton doll tentatively split its cat-like mouth into a grin, and its reflection grinned back.
The cotton doll slowly raised a hand, and its reflection raised a hand in complete sync.
“Woah~~~” A long exclamation filled with delight spilled from the cotton doll’s cat-like mouth. With its keeper’s reassurance, its fear of the mirror dissipated completely, replaced by an increasingly vibrant curiosity.
The cotton doll began wriggling its body on the counter, shuffling its bottom inch by inch, even boldly pressing its round head right against the cold, smooth glass. It gleefully tried out all sorts of poses and expressions, endlessly entertaining itself by observing its reflection in the mirror.
This was a blushing, shy Cotton.
This was an expressionless Cotton.
This was a sad, crying Cotton.
This was an angry, moody Cotton.
In the heat of its play, the cotton doll secretly used the corner of its eye to glance at its keeper in the mirror, who seemed to be watching its “performance.”
Quietly and slowly, it reached out its small round hand, pressing it against the very bottom edge of the glass—right where Shang Che’s hand hung at his side in the mirror.
With the images overlapping, it looked just as if the cotton doll were holding Shang Che’s hand through the mirror:
This was a Cotton that wanted to be absolute best friends with human!
“Sit properly and don’t fidget.” Once Shang Che had tidied himself up, he pulled out a soft face towel, dampened it slightly with warm water, and turned the cotton doll—which was having the time of its life—around.
His movements weren’t particularly soft, but the force was well controlled. He first wiped the cotton doll’s face and its restless limbs, then gave its temporarily clean outfit a quick swipe, not forgetting to issue a verbal “warning”: “No crawling around recklessly on the floor from now on. If you get dirty, I won’t wash you every single time.”
“Okay~” The cotton doll nodded its big head repeatedly, agreeing with utmost cheerfulness.
Shang Che rolled the used face towel into a ball, tossed it with precise aim into the nearby trash bin, and clapped his hands: “Alright, let’s go.”
“Hooray!” The cotton doll cheered immediately, holding both small round hands high in the air. But right after cheering, it realized a problem—the marble counter was far too high for it, and its keeper had just explicitly forbidden it from “crawling around recklessly on the floor”…
The cotton doll could only tilt its head up, using those overly bright golden eyes to gaze at its keeper expectantly and pitifully.
Shang Che let out a silent sigh and accepted his fate, extending a hand to pinch the collar at the back of its neck out of habit, preparing to haul it up as usual.
“Human,” the cotton doll suddenly spoke in a soft voice, carrying a tiny plea, “can you… not lift Cotton… like this?”
Shang Che’s movement paused: “Then how do you want it?”
The cotton doll instantly beamed a smile, its cat-like mouth curving even further: “Human can use… your arm to support Cotton!”
“…”
Shang Che went silent for two seconds, ultimately giving in.
He set the cotton doll back onto the counter, then followed its “instructions,” bending his arm to securely cradle its soft, cotton-stuffed bottom, lifting it off the bathroom counter with ease.
However, in the very next second—whether the cotton doll did it on purpose or genuinely failed to balance itself—Shang Che merely felt the weight on his arm shift. The pink figure tumbled straight down toward the floor!
Shang Che caught it almost on instinct, scooping the falling little creature back up in a split second and pulling it tightly against his chest.
The cotton doll took the opportunity to wrap its soft little hands around his neck.
Yet its arms were far too short to actually encircle a human neck, serving as little more than a symbolic drape. Still, it pressed itself earnestly against the side of Shang Che’s neck, its plush body resting softly against his chest, its tuft of ahoge hair swaying back and forth as it brushed past the side of Shang Che’s ear.
Cotton gave human a hug!
Cotton is so happy!
Cotton Doll: !!!
Shang Che froze almost instantly.
