Chapter 4
Shang Che truly couldn’t wrap his head around why he was awake in the dead of night, sitting on the floor staring at four cotton dolls. What was even more absurd was that he was actually reaching into the woven sack for those tiny clothes he had stripped off with his own hands.
The cotton doll sat opposite him, supervising his movements, watching him shake out a tiny pair of suspender pants with a long-fingered hand, his face plastered with open disdain.
“Human, dress him!” the cotton doll instructed in a clear, obedient voice, pointing its arm at the still-bare, 80-centimeter cotton doll.
He wasn’t sure if this “cotton product” simply had a good memory or if its “cotton head” was just too simple to think of anything else—every other sentence was an incessant plea for him to dress the cotton doll properly.
“Got it. Stop rushing me.” Shang Che harbored a barely noticeable irritability on his face, still mouthing words unlikely to please the cotton doll. “Keep pushing it, and see if I don’t strip you naked too.”
The “vicious” human refused to spare Cotton with his words, yet his hands instinctively searched the woven sack for the remaining garments.
Suspender pants, a shirt, a hat, and even a pair of mock shoes… It was quite a complete ensemble, though he stared at the pieces, at a total loss for where to begin.
“Human, do you not even know… how to put on clothes?” The cotton doll tilted its head back, its big golden eyes filled with genuine confusion as it asked in all earnestness.
Cotton Doll: ( o . o )?
Provoked again.
Shang Che’s grip on the tiny shirt tightened.
The cotton doll genuinely seemed to want to teach him how to dress the other doll. It shuffled its bottom over to Shang Che’s leg, raised its head, and offered step-by-step instructions: “Put Cotton’s hand… into here… pull it out… then button it up…”
It paused, terrified this clumsy human might skip a step, and added a special reminder: “Both hands… need to go in, okay?~”
Shang Che’s lip twitched; he felt utterly exhausted in body and mind. “I’m not an idiot.”
“Oh,” the cotton doll hummed softly, then pressed further, “Then why… haven’t you dressed Cotton… yet?”
Did this creature have some kind of weird obsession with wearing clothes? Was it possible a cotton doll actually understood embarrassment?
A sudden flick of curiosity sparked inside Shang Che. “Why do you insist on me putting clothes on it?”
The cotton doll tentatively rested a tiny, round hand on his calf, taking a moment to ponder before answering, “Because when Cotton… opened its eyes… it was already wearing… clothes.”
Shang Che felt its light, subtle movement through the thin fabric of his trousers. The sensation of that soft, round hand pressing against his leg was strangely distinct. He pulled his leg back slightly in an act of evasion and continued, “What if you had opened your eyes and weren’t wearing clothes?”
This time, the cotton doll answered with cheerful simplicity: “Then Cotton wouldn’t wear any!”
Shang Che: “…” So after all this, it was just a creature with simple, direct logic—a brainless thing that looked cute on the outside and nothing more.
“And what if I refuse to dress it?” Shang Che leaned in close, his tone carrying an unmistakable teasing edge. “What are you going to do to me?”
“Are you going to hit me with those round hands that don’t even have fingers?” His gaze drifted downward, settling on the doll’s obedient sitting posture. “Or use those short little legs to kick me?”
Even though it was just a cotton doll, that didn’t mean it failed to grasp the meaning behind those words. This was an insult! A provocation! Blatant mockery!
This human was an absolute bastard!
A meanie who picked on Cotton!
Gazing at Shang Che’s slightly upturned lips and faint, barely-there smirk, the cotton doll could no longer contain the inexplicable surge of anger bubbling up inside it.
“Human! You are really! Not liked by Cotton! At all!”
The little thing sure has a temper.
Shang Che nodded nonchalantly, looking completely unbothered as he threw back his retort word for word: “Why would I need your affection? You’re. A. Lump. Of. Cotton.”
Ahhhh!
It didn’t want this human to be its keeper anymore!
This human spoke so nastily—he didn’t hold it, nor did he comfort it!
Its subconscious told it that other dolls were precious treasures in their owners’ homes, dressed up beautifully, showered with affection, kisses, and cuddles. Only it had been stripped bare and stuffed into the darkness the second it opened its eyes.
Oh, wait—human said it was called a trash bag, not darkness. The cotton doll corrected itself silently in its heart.
Bad trash bag! Bad human!
Waaaah, why was its cotton life so miserable!
The more the cotton doll thought about it, the sadder it became. By the time Shang Che realized something was off, its eyes had already welled up into two “sad poached eggs.”
“What… what are you crying for?” A barely noticeable panic laced Shang Che’s voice. Having grown up without ever comforting anyone, his tone naturally came off a bit harsh under pressure. “Stop crying. Not a single tear is even falling.”
The cotton doll looked up at him, its dramatic “sobbing” gradually subsiding as if afraid of pushing the human too far.
Cotton Doll: T^T.
“…” Shang Che was at a loss for what to do. Clenching his fists, he suddenly remembered he was still holding the doll’s tiny shirt. He brought a fist up to his lips and cleared his throat with a slight turn of his head. “Well… if you stop crying, I’ll put the clothes on it.”
The cotton doll blinked, its expression instantly transforming.
^o^: “Okay!”
Watching the doll swap expressions faster than flipping the page of a book, Shang Che suddenly felt a creeping suspicion that he had been scammed.
He looked down at the doll gazing up at him, letting out a soft laugh—halfway between anger and amusement: “You’re playing me, aren’t you?”
Play? Play what?
“Cotton doesn’t understand.” Its emotions operated purely on raw instinct, simple and direct—quick to come, quick to go.
Enraged at a single provocation, placated by a single sweet word.
Cotton Doll: ( ^ v ^ ).
Staring at that face, Shang Che couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of sarcasm emanating from it. But could a cotton doll really understand such a thing?
It was probably because tonight’s shock had been too intense that his mind was genuinely dazed.
Shang Che shook his head helplessly. Looking at the bare 80-centimeter doll that gave him no obvious place to start, he paused mid-air, then grabbed the tuft of ahoge hair on the doll’s head to drag it closer.
Without a word, he began resigning himself to the fate of dressing it.
Having grown up as the young master of the Shang family without ever dressing anyone else, he never could have imagined that the first time he performed such a service would be for a cotton doll.
“Human, you’re so good.” The cotton doll stared at him with two twinkling, starry eyes. It nudged its body forward, tilting its face upward—from Shang Che’s angle, it looked the picture of adoration.
“…” There was really no need for that. He turned his face away awkwardly.
Seeing that Shang Che was ignoring it, the cotton doll didn’t mind in the slightest. It was bursting with excitement, eager to test out this massive body!
The arms were so long! The legs had grown quite a bit too! Compared to the 40-centimeter size, the 80-centimeter cotton doll wasn’t just a tiny bit bigger!
Cotton’s chest is so broad! Cotton’s body is so grand!
The cotton doll felt utterly thrilled with its newly refreshed limbs, quietly gloating in its heart: Hmph~ Now human can’t mock Cotton’s round little hands and short little legs anymore!
Feeling a surge of power flowing through its entire body, the cotton doll summoned strength out of nowhere and began huffing and puffing as it tried to stand up from the floor.
“…” Shang Che inhaled sharply, leaning his body back involuntarily as he watched the bizarre scene unfold before him.
The massive 80-centimeter cotton doll pressed both hands against the floor, its rear sticking upward as its legs gradually stepped backward to straighten up. With a push of its solid, plush body, the cotton doll’s line of sight rose until it was nearly level with Shang Che, who was sitting cross-legged on the floor.
“Human! Look at Cotton!” The doll was overjoyed, its squishy voice ringing with delight. Its legs remained stiff, capable of doing nothing more than standing rigidly, but its arms flapped up and down wildly, looking as though it were about to take flight.
Cotton Doll: O((^?^))O!
Shang Che: “…”
Would someone please explain just how absurd this human is feeling right now?
Even though he already knew the cotton doll could move, watching a plush toy of such massive proportions stand up right before his eyes delivered a sudden impact no less shocking than hearing it speak for the first time.
The vein on Shang Che’s temple throbbed rhythmically. Under its expectant and excited gaze, he spoke slowly, “You are not allowed to move around using a body of this size.”
“Why?” The cotton doll was utterly baffled. It was immensely pleased with this body, especially now that it had spontaneously mastered the art of standing.
Cotton is a genius!
…It’s just standing up, what’s there to be so happy about? Shang Che found it both absurd and exasperating.
And where did it get the nerve to ask him why?
Shouldn’t a cotton doll know what size was the most appealing?
Watching the doll blinking its huge eyes and flapping its arms, Shang Che twitched his lip, offering a silent critique: …So dumb.
“Human?” The cotton doll leaned its head forward, its face practically pressing up against Shang Che’s.
“You promised you would listen to me.” Shang Che crossed his arms, his expressionless face appearing somewhat cold and stern. His tone carried no discernible emotion, sounding half like a negotiation and half like a command: “My fourth rule is that you are not allowed to move around in front of me using a body this size.”
“Ah…” The cotton doll let out a faint sigh of disappointment.
“Hmm?” Shang Che raised an eyebrow slightly, as if calling out its disobedience.
Fine.
It promptly tossed its disappointment out the window. As if stripped of its soul, the 80-centimeter cotton doll collapsed to the floor with a loud thud, making a substantial muffled sound.
“Cotton will be good.”
Shang Che lowered his head. The 40-centimeter cotton doll—which had been forced to collapse face-first across his calf because of its eagerness to try out the new body—gradually came back to life.
Even though it could move now, the cotton doll remained slouched over Shang Che’s calf, raising its head slightly to rest its chin against the crook of his knee.
Those golden pupils, which had grown dull and lifeless after the “soul” departed, flickered briefly before regaining their lively spark. The cotton doll asked in its soft, squishy, delightfully straightforward yet confused voice: “Human, do you like… Cotton like this…?”
Shang Che didn’t answer, merely lowering his eyes slightly.
The cotton doll blinked back at him:
OVO—(???)—OVO!
As if silently asking: Human, look, isn’t Cotton cute?
