Chapter 40: The Situation Wasn’t as Expected
This novel is translated and hosted on Bcatranslation
Irene’s sobs filled the attic like a sudden downpour, her tiny shoulders shaking as though her whole world had come undone. Yu Sheng stood a few steps away, feeling as uncertain as a first-year student facing a rogue spell. He didn’t try to comfort her. For one thing, he had absolutely no clue how to begin. For another, he was more than a little nervous, worried that if he dared approach her, this grieving, delicate doll might suddenly lose her mind. He pictured her flinging herself at him, perhaps biting his hand with her tiny teeth. With her current miniature body, she would need to leap upward just to reach him, but still, he found the idea unsettling.
Yet there was a strange silver lining: now that Irene had her own body, she actually could bite him if she tried. When she’d been trapped inside the painting, all she could do was talk.
After what felt like a very long stretch of time, Irene’s cries slowed, and her sniffles faded into quiet hiccups. Seeing that the storm had passed, Yu Sheng took a few careful steps toward the old wooden table. He swallowed hard and said, in a gentle, halting voice, “Um… please don’t cry anymore. I know this body isn’t what you expected, but I’ll make you a new one next time—one the right size. For now, could you make do with this one? If it really doesn’t suit you, I’ll start a new attempt tomorrow.”
Irene’s tiny face was still damp with tears as she shook her head, looking thoroughly miserable. “I have no choice but to use this one for now,” she said, her voice small and trembling. “There’s no point in making another so soon. The soul of a living doll can’t just hop from body to body in quick succession. I’ll need to wait at least a few months before I can try again…”
She trailed off and looked dangerously close to bursting into tears again. Alarmed, Yu Sheng lunged for a little glass bottle on the table. With a nervous grin, he hurried over to catch the tears that threatened to roll down her cheeks.
“What on earth are you doing?” Irene asked, startled. She stared at Yu Sheng as though he’d sprouted antlers.
“These are the tears of a living doll,” he explained seriously, holding the bottle up with great care. “They might come in handy. Next time, if I want to use finer materials to make you a body—maybe one that shines like gold—these tears could be important. I’ll try collecting as much as I can in the next few months.”
Irene opened her mouth, her eyes glittering with fresh tears as she wailed, “Yu Sheng, you’re such a jerk!”
It took her ages to calm down again. When she did, she climbed onto a stack of dusty old books nearby and sat at the very top, her tiny legs dangling. She gazed into the distance, as if lost in her own complicated thoughts. Yu Sheng settled beside her on the table, quietly joining her in silent contemplation.
“At least… at least this is better than being stuck in that painting,” Irene said softly after a while, sounding as though she was still trying to convince herself. “Now I can move around on my own.”
“And you can even watch TV if you want,” Yu Sheng added, trying to sound cheerful. “That’s more convenient, right? You can get around without me having to move the painting for you.”
Irene sighed, attempting to sound serious and solemn. But as she was only a few centimeters tall, her heavy sigh came out more like a tiny, squeaky puff. Yu Sheng found himself glancing at her again, noticing the delicate joints of her knees and wrists. The ball joints were obvious, a reminder that she wasn’t human at all.
“This started as a clay doll,” Yu Sheng mused, “but it ended up with these puppet-like ball joints.”
Irene rolled her eyes. “Of course it has joints! How else would I move? This is the form recorded in my soul. No matter what container you use, once my soul settles in, I reshape it into this form. If you don’t like the ball joints, there’s not much I can do.”
“No, no, it’s fine,” Yu Sheng said quickly, waving his hands. Then, lowering his voice, he ventured, “Speaking of that recorded form… Your soul still remembers you as one meter sixty-seven tall, right?”
In an instant, Irene flung herself off the stack of books and seized Yu Sheng’s arm. She wrapped herself around his thumb and began trying, with all her tiny might, to bend it backward. “Could you just not mention that particular detail?!”
“Ow, ow!” Yu Sheng yelped, hopping in pain. He shook his arm gently, trying not to fling her off too roughly. “I was just curious! I want to know what went wrong in the process. Your appearance turned out right, but your size… it’s just so small!”
“How should I know?” Irene retorted angrily, her voice muffled as she hung onto his arm. “Everything felt normal while I was regenerating. Then, I ended up like… this! Hey! Put me down!”
“I will if you promise not to bend my fingers again,” Yu Sheng said, holding her by the collar of her doll-sized clothes. Only after Irene nodded did he set her back on the table, very gently.
“Ah, forget it,” Irene sighed, pacing back and forth, each of her steps a soft pat against the wood. “No amount of thinking will fix this. I need to find a way to contact my sisters from Alice’s Little House. If I can find them, they might be able to help. That could save us a lot of trouble.”
Yu Sheng raised an eyebrow, his curiosity sparked. “You keep mentioning Alice’s Little House and your sisters. Where exactly are they? Are there others like you in this city? What kind of… organization is this? What do you all do?”
He had been wanting to ask these questions for quite some time, but all sorts of strange events had kept him too busy until now.
Irene paused, turning thoughtful. “We’re a race created by the Ancestor of the Dolls. We don’t exactly have one grand mission or anything. Sometimes we deal with threats from other worlds, sometimes we lend a hand to other groups that face tricky situations. Mostly, we just live as we please.” She tilted her head. “I’m not sure where everyone is right now. Most of my sisters don’t live in the human world full-time. Still, there should be a contact point here in Boundary City. It’s just that I don’t remember where it is. Besides, it’s been many years—things might have changed.”
She climbed back onto the stack of books, resting her chin on her tiny hands and gazing dreamily into space. “When we dolls do come here, we pass ourselves off as humans. After all, living dolls look almost the same as people—well, usually. This city is huge. Without a proper lead or a known contact, finding a hidden living doll could be next to impossible.”
Yu Sheng listened closely, his eyes widening with surprise. He had begun to suspect the city was not as simple as it seemed, but hearing Irene’s words so plainly was still remarkable. “This is unbelievable. I always thought everyone here was just… human.”
Irene snorted. “Right, because this is the Borderland,” she said, as if stating the most obvious fact in the world.
“The Borderland?” Yu Sheng echoed, uncertain.
“In the Borderland, anything can happen,” Irene explained. “Take this Old City District, for example. It’s even got someone as strange as you, walking around thinking you’re just an ordinary human.”
Yu Sheng didn’t know what to say. He felt a shiver run down his spine, as if the floor had shifted beneath him, revealing hidden mysteries he hadn’t even guessed at. He couldn’t tell if Irene was teasing him or warning him.
Irene hopped down from the books, landing lightly on the table. “Anyway, let’s go downstairs. I’ve had enough of sitting around up here like a forgotten knick-knack. Now that I can move, I want to explore this manor of yours.”
Yu Sheng nodded, a mixture of relief and nervous excitement bubbling inside him. “Yes, let’s. Making your body took ages, and I’m starving. I’ll cook something.” He stepped toward the trapdoor that led down from the attic, and then hesitated when Irene called out behind him.
“Hey! Wait!” Irene shouted. “I’m still up here!”
Yu Sheng turned around to watch as Irene dashed across the table. She hopped onto a rickety old chair, then grabbed hold of its leg and carefully slid down to the floor. She moved as quickly as her tiny legs would allow until she finally stood at Yu Sheng’s feet, craning her neck to look up at him.
He stared down, struggling not to grin. “What are you looking at me for?”
She tilted her little head, eyes narrowed. “You’re just standing there like I’m some kind of circus act.”
He cleared his throat. “I didn’t mean to stare. It’s just that you look… well, cute.”
Irene blinked. “Oh? Do I?” She didn’t seem offended, just curious.
As they headed toward the attic exit, she tugged at his pant leg. “By the way… thank you.”
Yu Sheng looked down, surprised. “For what?”
“For making me this body,” Irene said, lifting her tiny chin proudly. “I know it’s not perfect, and I’m upset about the size. But you put a lot of work into it. I should thank you for that.”
Yu Sheng held back a laugh. “You’re in such a state, and you still want to thank me?”
“One thing has nothing to do with the other,” Irene said stiffly. “The size problem was due to some odd glitch in my soul’s regeneration. But your effort still counts. Even if this body isn’t pretty, you did help me out.”
Yu Sheng sighed. “You really could have left out that last part.”
Ignoring him, Irene continued, “Anyway, remember the promise I made. I’ll help you from now on—whether it’s fighting off strange threats or handling mysteries. Even if I find my sisters and return to Alice’s Little House, I’ll come back to help you whenever you need it.” She paused, tapping a tiny finger against her cheek. “Let’s say… for the next hundred years? By then, you’ll probably have died of old age, right?”
Yu Sheng nearly choked. “I’ll do my best… not to.”
Irene nodded, suddenly looking brighter and happier. “Good. A hundred years it is.” Then she turned and dashed toward the door, calling over her shoulder, “Now, let’s go downstairs!”
But just as she reached the threshold, Irene abruptly faltered, stumbling forward as if someone had cut her strings. She lost control mid-step and went tumbling headlong into the wall opposite.
Yu Sheng’s heart nearly stopped. One moment she was lively and talking, the next she was sprawled on the floor. He rushed over, scooping her up in his hands. She felt limp, cold, and lifeless, her limbs no longer warm and lively but back to being just clay and joints. There was no breath, no flutter of her eyelids—nothing to suggest she was alive at all.
Before he could panic further, he heard Irene’s voice—familiar, frustrated—calling from the large table behind him.
“Yu Sheng! I… I’m back here again!”