Chapter 3
The cotton doll flailed around for a good long while, feeling like it was getting closer and closer to the glowing round ball. It was completely engrossed in this bizarre method of movement, unaware of when another person had entered the room.
Shang Che had his arms crossed, staring expressionlessly at the “crazed trash bag.” His tall, lean frame was partially hidden in the shadows beside the display cabinets. His brow was slightly furrowed, his eyes deep and unreadable as he pondered who-knows-what.
After a moment, he shifted his feet.
The cotton doll found its path forward blocked by something that had suddenly appeared. It stopped its flailing, and the plastic bag draped over it settled back firmly against its body.
The annoying racket had finally quieted down. Shang Che slowly squatted, hooking a long finger to casually pull away the bag. Having lost its “little blanket,” the cotton doll seemed to regain a new lease on life. It raised its head blankly and caught sight of the gigantic figure looming before it, its eyes blinking instantly.
Looking at him like this, human seemed even bigger… It felt a little excited.
OwO: “Human! You came!”
Shang Che closed both eyes and let out a sigh from deep in his chest—it was hard to tell whether it contained more helplessness or speechlessness. He pinched the bridge of his nose, having seemingly anticipated this outcome. Sure enough, it wasn’t the plastic bag going crazy.
“How did you get out?” Shang Che asked.
The cotton doll tilted its head: “Darkness broke… Cotton fell out…”
“Cotton doesn’t hurt,” it added.
“…” Shang Che paused. Who cared if it hurt or not? So talkative.
The cotton doll lay flat on the floor, struggling to get up. Shang Che just watched it without offering a helping hand, even letting out a light snort through his nose before asking nonchalantly, “What kind of thing are you, anyway?”
“Cotton is just… a cotton doll…” It had checked itself: chubby little short legs, round little hands—a very standard cotton doll. Why did this human keep asking what it actually was?
“Human, are your eyes… bad?”
Shang Che was so infuriated he almost laughed.
Where on earth did a cotton doll come from that could utter provocative words with such an innocent face?
Then, he suddenly realized that he had already accepted the fact that a cotton doll could speak.
Shang Che: “…” His mind was probably no longer normal either.
The cotton doll was still flailing on the floor, not knowing how to get up. Its legs wouldn’t listen to it either—how heartbreaking for Cotton!
It secretly buried its head, having a close encounter with the floorboards. Out of Shang Che’s sight, those large golden eyes turned from OO into XX.
Cotton is very sad. Cotton can’t get up, and human doesn’t even know to help Cotton…
Suddenly, a long, fair finger reached into the gap between the cotton doll and the floor, catching the suspender pants on its front. With a gentle tug, it lifted the doll off the floor, then gave it a soft push backward, settling the cotton doll into a firm, steady sitting position.
Finally able to face human eye-to-eye, Cotton was very happy!
Just as it was about to say something, however, it saw Shang Che reaching for that piece of plastic bag.
“Human, Cotton doesn’t want to go in… the darkness…” Its voice was very soft, carrying a tiny, pitiful tremble, just like the cotton inside its body that could be scattered by a single gust of wind.
Shang Che’s movement froze. He looked down at this exquisitely crafted cotton doll dressed in pretty clothes. At this moment, it was working hard and awkwardly raising both arms, softly wrapping them around his finger. The force was so weak it felt like a gentle stroke of a feather, sending a faint tickle across the pad of his finger.
This tactile feeling was too real. It wasn’t cold, hard metal, nor was it a lifeless object. It was soft, squishy, and carried a warmth like something sun-dried—a truly unique existence in the entire storage room.
The cotton doll kept its big eyes open, promising him: “Cotton will be very good.”
Shang Che closed his eyes, his throat moving up and down involuntarily. Logic told him that this cotton doll was abnormal and should be disposed of immediately. But looking at its soft, cute, and obediently flattering appearance, his habit of being tough-tongued but soft-hearted began to act up again.
Seeing Shang Che looking at it, the cotton doll not only held onto his finger, but even pressed its cheek against it, rubbing gently as if acting cute.
Shang Che: “…”
…If… on the off chance he threw it out and someone else picked it up, it would be even more troublesome.
A talking cotton doll would definitely make a prime research subject. It wouldn’t just be a simple matter of causing a commotion…
If this little thing had a loose mouth and blurted out where it came from or that it knew him, his Shang family would probably end up being taken in for questioning at a research institute too.
Keeping it was only to keep better watch over it…
Three seconds later, Shang Che made a decision that, looking back later, made him feel he had truly gone mad.
“Then you can stay.”
The cotton doll breathed a sigh of relief, instantly cheering with joy.
“Human, you’re so good!”
“…I said staying is only temporary.” Shang Che paused. “You need to make a three-rule agreement with me.”
“First, you’re not allowed to speak carelessly, especially when outsiders are around.”
“Second, you’re not allowed to move around recklessly. You can only move around inside this house. If you run outside and get caught by someone, I won’t be able to save you.”
“Third,” Shang Che couldn’t think of anything else for the moment, so to be safe, he added, “You must listen to what I say.”
The cotton doll nodded immediately. Even though it had no neck and the range of its nod was so small it was almost imperceptible—save for the tuft of pink ahoge hair on top of its head trembling slightly.
(? U ?*): “I’ll be obedient, human!”
Why was it suddenly so well-behaved? It left him not even knowing what to say…
Perhaps due to a habit ingrained in Chinese culture, whenever meeting a living thing, the knee-jerk reaction was to offer something to eat. Thus, Shang Che asked rather awkwardly, “So, uh, are you hungry? Do you want to eat anything?”
“Human, you are weak… you need to eat,” the cotton doll answered slowly, as if correcting Shang Che. “Cotton is Cotton. Cotton doesn’t eat.”
“Heh.” He had just been asking a useless question.
Right after saying this little thing was quite obedient, it turned around and called him weak. Sure enough, he still really disliked these soft, squishy, childish, and boring things.
Shang Che hooked his finger through the suspender pants on the cotton doll, lifting it up slightly, and slid the unfolded trash bag underneath its butt. The cotton doll looked down curiously at the dark plastic beneath its bottom.
This mean thing had covered it up and trapped it earlier, and now wasn’t it obediently tamed, sitting right under it?
Human helped Cotton vent its anger. Human is good!
The cotton doll’s two starry eyes blinked and blinked, gazing at Shang Che with admiration.
Shang Che felt his skin crawl under its gaze. His lip twitched silently as he leaned down slightly, getting closer: “Then from now on, you stay here, keep quiet, and act like an ordinary, normal cotton doll. Can you do that?”
A normal, ordinary cotton doll? It was one to begin with!
“Understood!” the cotton doll answered loudly, though its voice was still soft and squishy, sounding entirely lacking in credibility.
Shang Che looked at its “effort to be serious” expression, which in reality was just its heavy head swaying slightly—a thoroughly dumbfounded and foolish look. Feeling immensely exhausted, he ran four fingers through his hair, tossing it back helplessly. Resting his palm against his forehead, he looked at the little thing before him.
Shang Che: “…” Speechless.
Squatting half-down for a long time made Shang Che’s feet go a bit numb. Taking the opportunity, he sat down, crossed his legs, rested his elbows on his thighs, and let out a long breath. He didn’t even bother worrying about the layer of dust on the floor that might or might not exist.
What kind of “magical” day was today, really…
First, Lu Zeming strangely had a “character collapse,” developing an interest in such soft, cute, and uninteresting things. Next, his perpetually busy father was going overseas on a business trip again with an uncertain return date. Finally… a talking, moving cotton doll had arrived.
What was even more absurd was that he was actually sitting here now, accepting everything so calmly.
It was truly ridiculous—
He didn’t know whether to praise himself for having a high level of acceptance and extraordinary adaptability, or scold himself for being heartless and air-headed.
While his thoughts were in disarray, he suddenly felt his lower leg being lightly bumped by something soft and weak.
Shang Che lowered his gaze. The cotton doll had somehow shuffled over to his side, using that limp little hand to carefully poke at his pant leg.
“Human…” The cotton doll raised its face, calling him in a small voice.
“What?” Shang Che’s tone was flat, lacking any warmth.
The cotton doll blinked its overly large golden pupils, looking up at him expectantly: “Can human… let Cotton out of… the darkness?”
“What darkness? Let out from what? Aren’t you right here?” Shang Che felt that a communication barrier truly existed between humans and cotton dolls. Otherwise, why was he listening in complete confusion? Or had his brain simply not rebooted yet…
The cotton doll tried hard to bend over, its chubby round hand pointing at the plastic bag Shang Che had placed under its butt, stating solemnly: “This… darkness…”
So silly—
Shang Che let out a brief, quiet laugh. It was hard to tell if he was mocking it or finding a touch of cuteness in this silliness: “This isn’t called darkness. This is a plastic bag.”
“Oh… plastic bag…” The cotton doll repeated earnestly like a parroting bird.
Shang Che: “…” Why did he get the illusion that he was teaching a human toddler how to speak? He felt a bit speechless at his own current patience: “What are you asking me to let out?”
The cotton doll’s hands hung naturally by its sides, its little butt sticking out slightly to the back, its head straining forward as its cat-like mouth opened and closed: “Let Cotton out.”
Saying things that made zero sense again.
Shang Che: “You’re already outside.”
The cotton doll felt he was right, but something also felt off. It lowered its head to look at its hands, attempting to count.
“One… one… one…”
Why did its fingers run out every time it counted to “one”? The cotton doll felt a bit troubled. So, it looked at its other hand and continued counting: “Two…”
Still not enough. Its gaze shifted to Shang Che’s long fingers resting on his knee, counting in a low voice: “Three…”
Where was four?
The cotton doll tilted its head, widening its eyes to look upward, finally discovering Shang Che’s other hand supporting his forehead. It pointed triumphantly with its round hand: “Four!”
That’s right! It was four!
“Human…” The cotton doll shuffled forward a bit and poked Shang Che’s pant leg again. Once Shang Che’s gaze fell upon it, it said slowly: “But Cotton… has four…”
Four what…
Shang Che froze abruptly, his gaze instinctively shifting toward that bulging gray woven sack in the corner. He was so exasperated he almost laughed out loud: “I used every ounce of my energy to stuff them in and drag them over here, and you’re telling me to pull them out just because you say so?”
Whether the cotton doll didn’t understand, didn’t want to listen, or simply didn’t care about his resentful tone, it just stubbornly raised its hand to point at the corner, then launched a pitiful complaint, dragging out its voice: “Inside… it’s dark. Cotton really doesn’t… like the darkness…”
…If you don’t like it, put up with it.
A cotton doll was actually ordering him around now.
