Chapter 30
“Don’t touch it.”
These three words weren’t spoken loudly, yet they sounded exceptionally clear in the noisy, clamorous environment. Beneath the calm tone, there seemed to be a surging, imperceptible confusion that he hadn’t fully cleared up himself, along with scattered embers of anger that—though forcibly suppressed—still seeped through the cracks between the words.
The palm extended toward the cotton doll froze mid-air. The male student wearing an athletic jersey turned his head in utter astonishment, looking toward the source of the voice.
Above the steps, Shang Che stood right there.
He had doubled back out of nowhere. His black backpack was still slung over his shoulder, the fine strands of hair on his forehead looking increasingly messy from running so fast. A few strands of damp hair clung to his sweat-moistened temples, the heave of his chest more intense than after a basketball game, his breathing carrying a slight rush—clearly having sprinted all the way back, or perhaps brought on by sheer tension.
The young man’s spine remained straight as a arrow, like a tightened string, the heavy aura radiating around him completely out of place with the surrounding jubilation and excitement.
Shang Che’s face didn’t bear any obvious rage—in fact, he could be said to be devoid of expression—yet his dark eyes resembled a bottomless, icy pool. At this moment, he was staring unblinkingly at the cotton doll on the ground, and at that hand that had caused his brow to furrow slightly.
His gaze possessed an intense penetration, first resting on the doll for two seconds before slowly lifting to sweep across the owner of that hand.
The male student met Shang Che’s gaze, his breath catching for a split second. From that seemingly calm, flat look, he tasted an unquestionable, nearly possessive quality that was then withdrawn as if nothing had happened, making it feel as though everything earlier had been a mere illusion.
Although Shang Che usually looked difficult to approach, putting on a front of ignoring everyone, those familiar with him knew he was actually very easygoing and held strong principles without being unreasonable. It was exceedingly rare for him to look so… almost gloomy, carrying an invisible, suffocating pressure.
The male student sheepishly rubbed his fingers—stained with sweat and dust—his throat feeling somewhat dry: “…Brother Shang? W-What’s wrong?”
He wasn’t even sure if Shang Che’s “don’t touch it” was addressed to him, considering what lay on the ground was merely an unremarkable cotton doll.
Shang Che didn’t answer him, merely shifting his gaze away from that displeasing hand, turning to look up the steps instead—at Lin Zhi, who was so anxious she looked ready to cry, desperately squeezing her way down through the gaps in the crowd.
Lin Zhi’s urgency and heartache, as well as her unreserved treasuring and protection of the cotton doll, were so obvious and so natural…
Compared to his current cold, rigid posture, she seemed far more like the gentle, responsible keeper this cotton doll truly deserved.
This realization brought Shang Che’s gaze back down onto the cotton doll lying face-down on the concrete ground, not daring to move a muscle—the one dressed in new clothes, meticulously dolled up.
That unfamiliar outfit, that glinting necklace, those tilted sunglasses… every single carefully decorated detail seemed to be silently telling him—the cotton doll could effortlessly obtain the “doting love” from someone else that it had never received from him.
The fingers hanging at Shang Che’s side twitched abruptly, rage interweaving with a strange, indescribable envy to form a blunt blade that ground away at his temper.
—As expected, he simply wasn’t fit to raise anything.
Un-tamable, incapable of raising, and even less capable of raising well.
He had zero clue when or how the cotton doll had come to school. He had expected even less that in less than a single day, this little creature had already found itself a new keeper.
The corners of Shang Che’s mouth suddenly curled into an extremely faint arch laced with heavy self-deprecation, the smile not reaching his eyes at all, making his gaze appear even deeper and unsearchable instead.
Clenching his fingers hanging at his side, he turned his head and exhaled a heavy breath amidst the intense heaving of his chest. Then, turning around, no longer looking at that little creature on the ground that was throwing his mind into a chaotic mess, he left without a second thought.
Let it be.
Giving this disobedient, un-cute cotton doll a new keeper who genuinely liked it, would treat it gently, and dress it up beautifully—how was that not, for him, resolving a sudden, flustering… monumental trouble?
Besides, Lin Zhi liked cotton dolls so much, and she had looked so anxious and heart-pained for it just now…
This little creature going over to her would only lead a better life than staying with him.
Even if its tiny secret of being able to move and speak were accidentally discovered by Lin Zhi, it wouldn’t matter.
Given Lin Zhi’s personality—loving cotton dolls and respecting “doll rights”—perhaps not only would she keep the secret, but she would treasure it even more because of it, treating it as a genuine, magical companion.
This little creature actually possessed decent taste, pinpointing the absolute best one out of so many people. He had zero reason not to fulfill its wish.
Anyway…
He didn’t like these kinds of things in the first place, and agreeing to raise it had been out of sheer necessity…
His home was finally going to regain its past quiet. Wasn’t that a good thing for him?
Shang Che told himself over and over, listing reason after reason, attempting to use them to suppress the chaotic, unfamiliar tightness surging in his chest. His steps grew increasingly hurried, his fingertips sinking into his palms, nearly convincing himself.
On the steps, the male student who had reached his hand out looked at Shang Che—who had suddenly appeared, called out to him, and then inexplicably turned and left—and scratched the back of his head in complete bewilderment. He bumped the shoulder of a friend beside him who was equally confused, lowering his voice to ask: “Hey, what do you think… Brother Shang meant by that? Calling out to me, saying nothing, and then turning around and leaving on his own?”
His friend was equally clueless: “I don’t know… Seeing him run back earlier looked pretty urgent, but I don’t know what he was rushing for… Taking a couple of looks at the doll without saying a word—so weird.”
“Forget it,” the male student didn’t bother pondering such a hard question, pointing a finger at that tiny pink figure, raising his head to look at Lin Zhi who was pushing through the crowd and desperately squeezing down, raising his voice: “Lin Zhi, is this your doll? It dropped on the ground.”
“Yes, yes, yes…” Lin Zhi nodded instinctively, before reacting immediately, waving her hands forcefully to explain: “…No, no, no, it’s not one I raise. I picked it up in the flower bed over there just now. I’m currently looking for its owner.”
“Oh, picked it up.” Putting on an air of casually doing a good deed, the male student leaned down, “Then don’t come down—the steps are crowded, I’ll toss it to you!”
As he spoke, that hand stained with dust and sweat—having just touched a basketball—reached out toward the cotton doll once more.
“STOP—” Seeing this, Lin Zhi’s scream nearly tore through her throat, her voice ringing loud to the point of breaking pitch, carrying an urgent prohibition: “Don’t touch it with your dirty hand that just touched a basketball! I’ll get it myself!”
Startled by her intense reaction, the male student noticed the anxiety and disgust in Lin Zhi’s tone, his expression becoming somewhat awkward: “…It’s just a doll, is there any need for that…”
“Don’t move.”
A pair of sneakers suddenly appeared in his field of view. The male student’s movements paused, his hand freezing in mid-air once again: “…”
…Again? Why was doing a good deed so hard for him…
The male student raised his head, looking at the person before him: “…Brother Lu, what’s wrong?”
Lu Zeming held no special expression on his face, the gaze behind his lenses showing no ripples, carrying his usual observational and analytical scrutiny.
He didn’t answer the male student’s question immediately, merely nodding his head slightly, then squatting down beside the cotton doll. He looked at the tiny pink creature, then raised his eyes to look at the departing silhouette of Shang Che in a rush.
Immediately after, slowly and with absolute natural ease, he extended his hand.
The cotton doll felt as though it had waited for a long, long time. It had even prepared that set of speeches—”Cotton knows it was wrong,” “Cotton won’t dare to do it next time,” “Cotton will be good and listen in the future”…
All sorts of excuses like these to beg for its keeper’s forgiveness.
Yet aside from those very first three words, it had never heard its keeper’s voice again.
Why hasn’t the human come over yet~
…It felt even slower than Cotton crawling over by itself…
Until a set of footsteps approached from a distance, drawing clearly toward its location.
The cotton doll couldn’t help a small surge of excitement: He’s coming, he’s coming~ The human is finally here!
It even pre-brewed an expression prepared to admit its mistake and flatter him, attempting to appease its keeper’s rage.
Immediately after, the cotton doll was picked up by a hand.
That hand flipped it over with a movement that wasn’t particularly gentle, yet wasn’t rough either, changing it from its face-down, messy posture to face-up, and then held it steadily in its palm.
The cotton doll was just about to secretly show its keeper the “special expression for admitting mistakes”—a mix of guilt, pitifulness, and a tiny bit of acting cute—when, the instant its vision focused, it saw a face that was almost entirely unfamiliar to it!
Black-framed glasses, refined and clean, yet holding a trace of probing curiosity and… surprise in its eyes?
It wasn’t its keeper!
Where was its giant keeper?! Cotton clearly heard his voice just now!
The cotton doll’s eyes widened instantly in sheer shock, its cat-like mouth parting slightly in surprise as well.
How could it not be the human?!
In the next second, it clearly saw a distinct flicker of surprise pass through those calm eyes of the unfamiliar human before it. ! Oh no!
Cotton failed to control its expression!
It’s over, it’s over!
Realizing with delayed terror, the cotton doll felt that it had truly caused major trouble this time—not only had it likely enraged its keeper, but it had also exposed itself in front of an unfamiliar human…
This feeling of fear wrapped around its soft, tiny body, causing it to shudder uncontrollably.
Right at that moment, the male student who had been called out to by Lin Zhi squeezed over again, carrying a trace of curiosity and reluctance: “Hey, Brother Lu, what’s so special about this doll? Let me take a look too. Lin Zhi wouldn’t even let me touch it, acting all secretive…”
No!
Cotton couldn’t be seen by more people!
The cotton doll was so scared it nearly curled into a ball.
Suddenly—
A broad palm cupped down without warning, shielding it tightly inside his palm.
Darkness fell before its golden eyes, while simultaneously isolating the curious gazes from the outside world.
Cotton Doll: ( =-= )?
“Hmm…?” The male student’s movements paused once more, unable to comprehend what was with Lu Zeming’s almost “food-guarding” action. He merely felt his nose turning red—one after another, not only would they not let him touch this doll, but now they wouldn’t even let him catch a single glance. Having his face swiped repeatedly, the male student felt a bit embarrassed, his tone inevitably carrying some dissatisfaction: “Brother Lu, what… do you mean by this?”
“Nothing worth looking at.” Lu Zeming raised his head and gave the male student a subtle, polite smile. His tone was his usual, un-faultable calm, except carrying a touch of well-timed flattery right now: “It’s your turn to go on court. Our class’s ‘Little Kobe’—today’s basketball game relies on you to carry the entire team.”
Praised by the title “Little Kobe,” the male student’s eyes drifted, instantly feeling embarrassed. Scratching his head, that tiny bit of curiosity toward the cotton doll was tossed far beyond the clouds: “Eek, saying things like that… Brother Lu, set your mind at ease. Watch how I win this match for our class!”
With that, he immediately rotated his wrists, ready to step onto the court at any moment.
Lin Zhi finally squeezed her way down. Patting her chest—which felt stuffy from the tension and crowding—she looked at Lu Zeming’s closed palm that hid the cotton doll, pointing and asking tentatively: “Brother Lu, thanks a lot just now. Otherwise, this little thing would have really gotten two black finger prints pressed onto it…”
“So can you…” Hand it over to me.
Before Lin Zhi could finish her second sentence, Lu Zeming offered an explanation that answered off-topic: “I washed my hands.”
Meaning, his hands were clean and wouldn’t get the cotton doll dirty.
Lin Zhi froze for a second, then broke into a smile over this head-and-tail-less yet earnest explanation. She waved her hand: “I wasn’t talking about that. I meant, can this doll be handed over to me now? I still need to continue helping it find its owner.”
Lu Zeming looked at her, shaking his head gently. The gaze behind his lenses was calm yet certain: “No need to look for them.”
“…What do you mean?” Lin Zhi’s voice carried obvious disbelief. Sizing Lu Zeming up from head to toe, her face contorted slightly as if discovering a new continent: “…Don’t tell me… you’re the owner of this cotton doll?”
No!
Cotton wasn’t his Cotton!
The cotton doll inside his palm grew anxious in an instant upon hearing those words, moving restlessly, only to be “suppressed” by the palm once more.
“I’m not,” Lu Zeming denied with complete decisiveness. Pausing for a second, he continued: “But I know who is.”
“Who, who!” Lin Zhi’s curiosity was piqued, pressing for answers immediately, seeming to want to speak up against injustice on behalf of the cotton doll. She said indignantly: “Not even paying attention to their own cotton doll, letting it fall into a flower bed and get so dirty—I need to give her a proper talking to.”
It appeared that up until now, Lin Zhi still firmly believed some careless girl had lost her cotton doll. Lu Zeming raised his head, offering her an extremely faint, yet somewhat mysterious smile: “It’s a secret.”
Lin Zhi was perplexed: “…Huh?”
“However, you can set your mind at ease on one point,” Lu Zeming guaranteed, “I will definitely help you teach him a good lesson.”
Lin Zhi still carried confusion and a subtle worry: “Brother Lu, are you sure that owner will genuinely care? I posted on the lost and found for so long and didn’t see anyone come looking. This doll is so cute, if it encounters an irresponsible owner…”
She didn’t finish her sentence, yet Lu Zeming understood her meaning, saying earnestly and firmly: “I’m sure he will.”
Pausing, he lowered his gaze, adding: “It’s just that its owner is tsundere, contradictory, and easily embarrassed. Always putting on a tough front, pretending not to care about anything on the surface, but in reality, he’s a guy who’s extraordinarily possessive of his own belongings.”
“To him, letting go is far easier than possessing.” Lu Zeming shrugged, his tone familiar, the corner of his mouth curving into a knowing arch, “Though once he figures it out and regrets it, he might secretly hide away and cry.”
Lin Zhi looked at Lu Zeming’s departing back, lost in thought.
The surrounding noises gradually drifted away. Lu Zeming didn’t rush to chase after Shang Che; letting that guy think things through on his own was good too. Right now, he had a far more important matter to confirm.
Lowering his head, he looked at the cotton doll lying stiffly in his palm, even its tuft of hair drooping wilted.
The golden-embroidered eyes were dull and lightless, its cat-like mouth pulled into a thin arc. The entire Cotton displayed a front of ‘as long as I pretend well enough, no one will notice I moved just now.’
Lu Zeming could tell at a glance who had taught it this. He suddenly let out a soft laugh, speaking in a low voice: “You can move now.”
…Move what? Cotton doesn’t understand.
Lying in the palm supporting it, the cotton doll pondered questions that were extremely complex for its tiny mind:
—What was this human going to do to Cotton?
—Where on earth did its keeper go?
—Was the human angry, so he didn’t want it anymore?
—How was Cotton supposed to escape?
“If you don’t move, I won’t take you to find him.” Lu Zeming pushed up his glasses, his tone calm yet carrying a subtle teasing quality.
…Cotton was not going to fall for your words that easily.
Lu Zeming continued enticing it: “Do you really not want to see him?”
…Cotton… Cotton… Cotton had to endure, and not fall into the bad guy’s trap.
Lu Zeming nodded, his tone casual: “If you don’t want to, then forget it.”
Want to!
Cotton wants to super, super badly!
With a swish, the cotton doll’s golden eyes lit up, the tuft of hair on its head perking up as well. Raising its round head slightly, it stared straight at the glass-wearing human before it with a complex expression mixed with fear, surprise, and vigilance.
Watching its entire reaction process, the corner of Lu Zeming’s mouth curved upward ever so slightly: “As expected.”
Cotton Doll: (|||)!
This human tricked Cotton on purpose!
It wanted to “play dead” again, but it was already too late. Those eyes behind the lenses possessed a gentle yet terrifying insight that saw right through all its tricks.
Lu Zeming didn’t press further, nor was he confused, not even displaying an ounce of shock over the fact that a “cotton doll could actually move.” He merely pulled out his phone, snapped a click at the object in his palm, and rapidly typed a few words.
The cotton doll stared blankly at his smooth, flowing actions, frozen in a daze for a second: This human… why wasn’t he surprised at all?
As if reading its thoughts, Lu Zeming lowered his eyes, meeting those golden eyes, his tone flat: “I guessed it long ago.”
The cotton doll was clearly frightened by these words.
“I had my suspicions back in the stairwell,” Lu Zeming’s voice wasn’t loud, nor was his speech fast, as if peeling back layers to state the truth. “A-Che wouldn’t use that tone when talking to Uncle Shang on the phone, plus he kept intentionally or otherwise paying attention to the backpack on his body.”
“As far as I know, he isn’t someone who cares that much about material possessions. So to him, what was important was the contents of the bag.”
“At that time, you were inside that bag, weren’t you?”
This long monologue from Lu Zeming left the cotton doll thoroughly dazed.
“Furthermore,” he paused, his expression carrying a faint helplessly: “These golden eyes of yours are truly special—especially when peeking out through the slit of the backpack.”
The cotton doll instinctively used its small round hands to cover its big eyes, its entire plush body filled with an act of evasion that read ‘don’t say any more.’
“So, A-Che knows you can move, can speak, and has accepted all of it. My guess is his requirement for you was to be good, listen, and stay at home.” Lu Zeming let out a gentle sigh. “Yet now you secretly ran out and got yourself lost. And even though he clearly saw you just now, he didn’t bring you back.”
Listening to him, the cotton doll’s tiny body curled into a ball, its tuft of hair drooping slowly, looking thoroughly dispirited.
It didn’t want to admit it, but this human wasn’t wrong in the slightest.
The human saw it.
Yet the human didn’t come over.
The human didn’t want it anymore.
The cotton doll lowered its head, looking at the brand-new, handsome little outfit on its body, and used its small round hand to pick at that glinting necklace.
All these things were great, and Cotton really liked them—it would be even better if its keeper had given them to it.
The cotton doll raised a small hand to rub its eyes, its cat-like mouth bulging into a sad arc.
“Human… doesn’t want Cotton anymore?”
Looking at this lump of cotton in his palm that was full of vigilance earlier, yet had now lost all its vitality, Lu Zeming fell silent for a moment, attempting to salvage his friend’s image: “…You misunderstood.”
The cotton doll paid him no mind, its tuft of hair remaining completely motionless.
Lu Zeming seemed to be weighing his words. In truth, he wasn’t particularly good at comforting people, let alone a lump of… cotton that he wasn’t sure could process complex human emotions.
Yet for Shang Che’s sake, he still spoke slowly: “A-Che has never been very good at expressing himself since he was young.”
“His mother passed away early, and his father is perpetually busy, adopting a ‘free-range’ approach with him, which naturally created some distance.”
“He got used to not needing anyone, and not being needed by anyone. Thus, when he discovers that he’s starting to need something, he wants to run away.”
Lu Zeming lowered his head, looking at the cotton doll lying still in his palm, looking as though it were listening intently.
“He didn’t refuse to pick you up just now.”
“He was merely scared, too embarrassed.”
“A-Che is a coward.”
The tuft of hair on the cotton doll’s head moved ever so subtly.
Lu Zeming continued: “You were picked up by Lin Zhi, dressed up beautifully, and easily received love from so many people. He would think—Look, others do a better job than me; you don’t actually need me that badly.”
“Compared to keeping someone around, he is far better at accepting departure.”
Finishing his words, Lu Zeming himself went silent for a moment.
Part of this monologue was inferred based on his understanding of Shang Che, while part… was captured from Shang Che’s almost flustered turn of his back and that flickering obscurity in his eyes.
He wasn’t sure if these words were overly complex for a cotton doll, until—he saw those golden eyes, which had raised again at an unknown moment, staring straight at him without blinking.
Inside them held no fear, no defense, only a nearly transparent, urgent yearning to confirm a certain matter.
The cotton doll’s cat-like mouth moved, its voice light and delicate: “Human… didn’t… not want Cotton?”
Lu Zeming looked at it without answering immediately. He suddenly recalled what Shang Che had said upon leaving—that casual, self-deprecating line, “There really is no one.”
No, it wasn’t self-deprecation.
It was expectation.
A-Che had begun to hold a subtle expectation regarding the concept of “going home.”
“He has never,” Lu Zeming uttered word by word, as if issuing a conclusion that already held an answer, “not wanted you.”
The tuft of hair on the cotton doll’s head slowly perked back up.
It looked down at its small round hands, then looked back up at Lu Zeming, its big golden eyes brimmed with hope: “Then what should Cotton… do now?”
Lu Zeming raised the cotton doll a bit higher, bringing it level with his line of sight.
“Three things.” His tone reverted to its usual clear organization. “First, you cannot go look for him right now.”
“He needs time to figure things out on his own, and—given his personality, if you appear before him right now, it will only make him even more awkward and put up an even tougher front because he was ‘seen looking flustered.'”
The cotton doll grew a bit anxious: “But…”
“No buts.” Lu Zeming’s tone was calm yet un-refutable. “He will figure it out.”
The cotton doll’s tuft of hair drooped dispiritedly, yet it didn’t argue.
It recalled how its keeper would clearly be happy yet insist on saying “it’s alright,” clearly want to pet it yet pull his hand back, clearly care about it yet pretend not to care…
This human… seemed to be right.
Its keeper was indeed very tsundere sometimes.
“Second,” Lu Zeming continued, “I won’t tell him about this.”
The cotton doll raised its head in surprise.
“For now, only he and I know your secret. The more people who know, the higher the risk.” He paused, his tone flat. “Besides, telling him I know right now wouldn’t deliver as big of an impact as a ‘sudden ambush’ on some future day.”
“…Im… pact?” The cotton doll didn’t quite understand this word.
“Catch him off guard,” Lu Zeming said concisely. “Make it impossible for him to brush us off with prepared lines, forcing him to face the issue directly.”
The cotton doll half-understood, but instinct told it that this human seemed to be helping it.
“Third,” Lu Zeming looked at it, “You’re coming home with me tonight.”
The cotton doll froze in a daze.
Go home… with this human?
Did its keeper know?
Would its keeper agree?
Would its keeper get… even angrier after finding out?
The cotton doll’s brain seemed tied in knots, completely unable to make sense of things.
“Mm.” Lu Zeming nodded as if holding victory in his hands. “And—”
He paused, looking down at the cotton doll’s golden eyes filled with worry, confusion, and inner conflict, offering a firm promise:
“He will come look for you.”
“Once he figures it out on his own.”
“He will come.”
The Shang Che he knew wouldn’t be a true coward.
Update Posting Schedule: Starting next chapter, the posting schedule changes from posting every day to 3 chapters every Thursday~
