Chapter 44
Shang Che’s phrase, “I’ll buy it for you,” was spoken very softly, practically drowned out by the noise of the shopping mall.
The cotton doll heard it clearly, nonetheless.
Those golden eyes sparkled bright, and the tuft of hair on its head swayed ever so subtly with excitement. Yet it still remembered that they were outside right now: it couldn’t move around recklessly, couldn’t speak, and could only stay in the pocket good and obediently.
Bal… loon…
Human will buy it for Cotton…
Human is so good to Cotton…
The cotton doll was still somewhat excited. Leaning back gently, its small head pressed against its keeper’s body through the thin fabric of his clothes.
Shang Che suddenly felt a soft bump against his chest. Lowering his eyes to look at this clingy “strawberry daifuku,” he felt as though he could sense the cotton doll’s joy:
Cotton heard it.
Cotton is very happy.
A smile surfaced at the corners of Shang Che’s mouth. Cupping a hand over his chest pocket, he rubbed his thumb gently against that pink head a couple of times.
“Sister, look, look quickly…”
“I see it, I see it, I see it…”
Two voices engaged in conversation suddenly carried over into his ears. Two girls leaned close together, hands covering their mouths, their gazes drifting over to Shang Che from time to time, gasping softly in excitement—
The girl getting nudged furiously by her friend stroked her chin, sighing with emotion: “Don’t say another word, it really is super cute. Poking a head out from a pocket is indeed ultra-adorable—making me want to buy a cotton doll too.”
“Buy one then! When the time comes, you’ll no longer be able to empathize with your past self who said ‘don’t bring that trashy cotton doll when going out’!” The girl speaking held a 40-centimeter cotton doll with effort in her arms, squeezing the cotton doll’s small hand to wave it, “Am I right~”
The other girl went speechless: “…You just want to see me eat my words, don’t you.”
“I’m merely welcoming you to join our doll circle.” The girl holding the doll had eyes that seemed to flash like hazard lights, sincerely inviting her friend to join the circle, “His should be a 10-centimeter one, convenient to carry and also super cute—investing in one is never a loss!”
“I’ll think about it. At any rate, I won’t buy one as big as yours, carrying it out every single time tires me to death, and I still have to help you carry it for a bit.”
“This is sheer alarmism!” The girl flipped her hand over to loop around the cotton doll’s neck, covering its ears with one hand, “It doesn’t matter, baby. Mommy isn’t bitter at all, not tired at all~”
“Heh-heh…” Her friend let out a couple of dry laughs, immediately after which she asked with a touch of curiosity: “Though, it’s my first time seeing a guy bring a cotton doll out…”
“That is true… But—” The girl held the cotton doll up to her face, her face suddenly turning stern, as if mimicking Shang Che’s expressionlessness, “Don’t you think a cold-faced guy paired with a cute creature like this holds a particularly unique flavor~~~”
The two looked at each other and giggled, nudging each other back and forth.
“Ahem…”
Shang Che clearly heard their conversation. Turning his head, he walked past them with a straight gaze, stepping faster, a subtle flush quietly creeping onto the tips of his ears.
As expected, bringing a cotton doll out openly and honorably was still a bit too much of a test for him.
Ever since earlier, Shang Che had received countless gazes cast over intentionally or otherwise—some curious, some probing, and some sizing him up…
In truth, because cotton dolls were sweeping the market, the act of bringing such a little thing out wasn’t rare anymore. Among groups of girls, carrying a cotton doll around to check in at spots and take photos was even more of a norm, rarely drawing strange looks from passersby.
Perhaps because he was a guy, it appeared particularly unique instead, attracting even more attention.
Shang Che pressed his forehead helplessly, not surprised by this outcome in the slightest—before bringing the cotton doll out without stuffing it inside a bag, he had anticipated that he might receive all sorts of gazes.
Letting out a sigh, he looked down at the cotton doll—blissfully ignorant, leaving only a round back of its head exposed to him—and thought to himself:
He had already promised this little Cotton that he would take good care of it, would take it out often, and would keep his word, so he had to learn to accept it calmly.
Although facing the cotton doll at the very beginning, he had also been resistant and uncomprehending.
Yet, no one could resist the “ultimate temptation.”
Since this little Cotton had charged straight into his life, it wasn’t allowed to leave anymore.
Furthermore, he didn’t want to experience that feeling of loss and panic ever again.
As for the gazes of others, Shang Che couldn’t be bothered to care.
Although it wasn’t mealtime yet, a fair number of people were already seated inside the Cantonese tea restaurant. The sound of clinking tableware mixed with chatter and laughter, which actually suited Shang Che’s wishes perfectly.
He followed the waiter to the booth in the furthest corner. After sitting down, he pulled out a tissue to line the tabletop on the side against the wall, and only then lifted the cotton doll out from his pocket, setting its feet onto the laid-out tissue.
Then, using a small potted plant on the table and the tissue box, he constructed a protective “fortress” around the cotton doll.
Viewed from a restricted angle, one could see only a few flecks of pink intermingled within green leaves, unable to see that a cotton doll—unable to contain itself, looking around everywhere in curiosity—was hidden inside.
It saw a human man and woman sitting not far away. The man was using chopsticks to pick up a translucent, tiny round ball filled with something pink inside, carefully holding it before the woman’s mouth.
The woman bit down with a smile, then leaned close to the man’s ear to say something. The man’s face flushed red in an instant, and withdrawing his chopsticks, he ate the remaining half himself.
Watching this scene, the cotton doll’s golden eyes blinked, a question mark popping up above its small head.
Humans eat on their own…
Why are these two humans eating food with one needing to feed the other, and the other eating the leftover half?
So strange…
The cotton doll looked over toward another side, where a tiny human was sitting on a peculiar-looking chair, holding an object in its hand that was white on the outside and yellow on the inside—looking remarkably like an egg—taking bite after bite.
An older human beside it wiped its face with a tissue while laughing. The tiny human wobbled its head around to dodge, but was caught in the end anyway, and right as it opened its mouth to wail, it was stuffed with a soft lump—remarkably like the item its keeper had given it before called “fruit daifuku.”
The cotton doll’s cat-like mouth couldn’t help curving into a smile, and then, withdrawing its gaze, it looked at its keeper.
Shang Che was looking at the menu. The cotton doll called him in a small voice, like a cloud that could be blown apart by the wind, “Human, can Cotton… take a look?”
Shang Che froze for a second, then angled his phone screen over naturally, sitting slanting to block the cotton doll completely out of view, reminding it in a lowered voice: “Shh, keep it down. We’re keeping it quiet.”
The cotton doll nodded, the tuft of hair on its head swaying back and forth.
The restaurant’s item photos were taken with extreme clarity, looking complete in color, fragrance, and taste. The tiny cotton doll was mesmerized, poking its head forward until it was nearly pressed against the screen.
—Silly to the point of being somewhat cute.
Shang Che let out an imperceptible smile.
The cotton doll pointed its small round finger at the pictures, making its keeper open them one by one for it to see.
“What is… this?” It pointed at golden-yellow slices laid out neatly on the picture, asking in a faint voice.
Shang Che cast a glance, mimicking it as he spoke softly: “Coconut milk golden cake. It won’t be too sweet; it tastes pretty good.”
“What about this one?” The cotton doll pointed at a translucent, tiny round ball filled with something pink inside again—this was the one it had seen another human eat earlier, not knowing what it was yet.
Shang Che: “This is a crystal shrimp dumpling. It’s considered this shop’s signature item; very delicious.”
The cotton doll pointed at a red, cylinder-like item again. Before it could even open its mouth, Shang Che answered automatically: “Crispy red rice roll. Also one of the signature dishes.”
“…Human, that item that’s white and yellow… looking very much like an egg, what is it?”
Shang Che guessed it almost instantly. Swiping his finger down, he opened a picture: “Are you talking about this one?”
The cotton doll was both surprised and delighted, dragging out its tone like acting cute: “Yes~”
“This is called a custard bun. It’s a type of sweet bun.” Shang Che didn’t click that familiar plus sign. Furrowing his brows slightly, he said: “I don’t particularly like it.”
The cotton doll pouted its small mouth immediately, looking at him piteously.
…There really was no way around it.
Shang Che: “…Got it. I’ll eat it for you to see.”
The cotton doll pointed at several dishes in a row, all of which were added to the shopping cart by Shang Che.
Finally, it pointed at a photo that looked somewhat peculiar in shape, looking at its keeper: “This one looks so strange~”
Shang Che looked at the photo: “This is chicken feet.”
Cotton Doll: “…Chi… cken feet?”
The word “chicken” combined with “feet” was indeed somewhat hard for the cotton doll to comprehend. Shang Che switched to a common, easy-to-understand explanation: “It’s the feet of a chicken.”
The cotton doll froze for a second, pointing a small round finger at those brownish feet on the picture, its golden eyes filled with shock: “…Chi… chicken feet?”
“Mm.”
The cotton doll’s small face scrunched up, its expression terrified: “Humans eat… chicken feet?”
Shang Che raised an eyebrow: “That’s right.”
The cotton doll lowered its head, looking at its round, tiny, clawless hands, going silent for several seconds.
Looking at its “this is far too terrifying, Cotton doesn’t want it” demeanor, the corners of Shang Che’s mouth curved up.
The tabletop was packed with dishes. The cotton doll stayed obediently still without moving, yet its eyes lit up.
Although those “chicken feet” made it a bit scared, all the other items looked like they tasted super delicious.
Golden-yellow yet soft golden cake, pale pink-translucent shrimp dumplings, bright red crispy rice rolls…
As it watched and watched, it spoke softly out of nowhere: “Human…”
Shang Che: “Mm?”
“Being a human… is so happy.” The tiny lump of cotton was filled with envy.
Shang Che froze for a second, breaking into a laugh as he asked it: “Why?”
The cotton doll pointed a small round finger, saying in all seriousness: “Humans can eat so many… delicious things.”
“Although Cotton… cannot eat,” it continued speaking, its golden eyes sparkling bright, “seeing human eat… Cotton is very happy too.”
Looking at those eyes that were genuinely happy for him and filled with absolute sincerity, Shang Che’s heart softened for a fraction of a second.
His inquiry held an obvious laugh: “You want to be a human just to eat these things?”
The cotton doll blinked its eyes, appearing not quite to understand why its keeper asked it that, yet answered sweetly nonetheless: “That’s right~ Being a human means getting to eat them~”
Truly a silly Cotton.
Being a human comes with a lot of worries.
Shang Che strode over to stroke that empty, soft cotton head, his eyes filled with gentle warmth, thinking to himself:
Being an ever-happy little Cotton is great as it is.
Carefree and without worries.
Looking at the cotton doll hiding between the green plant and tissue box, its golden eyes staring unblinkingly at those foods, Shang Che picked up a shrimp dumpling, blew on it, and held it before its face: “Want to take a look?”
“Want to!”
The cotton doll leaned close to look, observing closely the pink shrimp filling wrapped inside the translucent skin.
“Cotton saw it,” the cotton doll urged in complete satisfaction, “Human, hurry and eat~”
Withdrawing his chopsticks, Shang Che brought the shrimp dumpling into his mouth, chewing slowly.
The cotton doll watched him eat in silence like this.
Shang Che brought every single dish before the cotton doll to let it take a look, right until he bit open the custard bun, the sweet filling flowing out and emitting steam.
This was the one the cotton doll was most curious about, asking softly: “Human, does it taste good?”
Shang Che’s chewing motion paused.
He actually didn’t like eating sweet buns, yet looking at those golden eyes brimming with curiosity and anticipation, Shang Che couldn’t bring himself to say a single buzzkill word. He went silent for a second, then nodded his head, answering: “It tastes good.”
The cotton doll’s cat-like mouth curved into a smile, its eyes sparkling bright.
That’s good then.
Although Cotton cannot eat it, as long as human thinks it tastes good, Cotton is happy.
