Chapter 25: The Dreaming Fox
(This novel is translated and hosted on Bcatranslation.)
Irene’s reaction truly seemed honest—so honest that Yu Sheng couldn’t help feeling puzzled. Ever since he’d begun dealing with this odd doll, he hadn’t caught even the slightest sign that she was pretending. Every word and gesture from her seemed completely genuine, as if her head were made of solid wood, leaving no space for clever tricks. He thought she was either a truly gifted actress or simply someone whose mind was as empty as it appeared.
Yu Sheng kept his suspicions alive but leaned more toward the second guess. After all, Irene’s naïve sincerity never wavered.
He explained again what he had witnessed: the appearance of the dead doll and that towering, shadowy monster that seemed to have dragged the doll down with it. Irene’s answer was still the same. “I don’t know,” she insisted firmly.
Yu Sheng frowned, sinking deep into thought. Yet, no matter how he turned it over in his mind, he found no clues.
Irene, meanwhile, looked at him with bright curiosity. “Hey, why are you asking me all this all of a sudden?” she said, tilting her head as if baffled. “Weren’t you supposed to go upstairs and sleep?”
Yu Sheng hesitated, then decided it might be worth telling Irene about the strange room upstairs. After all, it didn’t feel like a secret he had to keep. Besides, it might be connected to her somehow. Perhaps if he shared this mystery, he might learn something new.
“There’s something odd about that room,” he began quietly. He described the strange changes he’d seen: how the furniture had shifted, how the large mirror showed impossible scenes, and how the entire place seemed to transform without warning.
For once, Irene listened without interrupting him. Her scarlet eyes grew wider and wider as he spoke. When he finally stopped, she stared at him for a long moment before letting out a drawn-out, amazed, “Woooowww.”
Yu Sheng sighed. He had hoped for some insight, but all he got was her wonder. It did nothing to solve the riddle.
“So,” he said, slightly disappointed, “I guess you don’t know anything about what’s going on either. And I’m guessing you’ve never seen that mirror before, right?”
“Nope. Never seen it.” Irene shook her head firmly, her long hair swishing. “But I do think this house is getting stranger and stranger.”
Yu Sheng gave a tired sigh. “You don’t say. Every time I open a door, I have no idea where I’ll end up. Rooms rearrange themselves, and mirrors show who-knows-what from who-knows-when. It’s hard to believe, but I used to think this place was pretty decent to live in…”
Irene blinked at him with her bright red eyes, silent for a moment before asking softly, “So… are you thinking about moving out? Not staying here anymore?”
Yu Sheng didn’t answer immediately. He couldn’t deny that he had considered it. He could put up with ghostly mirrors, suspicious old furniture, and odd appliances. He could even live with a bothersome talking doll stuck inside a painting. Those were just interesting quirks, not serious threats. He wasn’t truly afraid of dying, either. But the thought of a door leading him into another world—one he might never find his way back from—was something else entirely. That was a risk he might not want to take.
He fell silent, pondering. Seeing this, Irene waited quietly for a while before speaking up again. “If you do find a new place,” she said, her voice gentle but hopeful, “let me know, okay? Maybe you can figure out a way to bring me along, too. I could help lower the price of the new place!” She tried to sound cheerful as she said this.
Yu Sheng blinked in surprise. “I was only joking when I said you could help lower the price before,” he said, raising an eyebrow. “Aren’t you worried about insulting the ancestors of dolls or your sisters by becoming some sort of… discount charm?”
“I thought about it,” Irene replied seriously. “I think it actually makes sense. Besides, if I help you get a cheaper place, then I’m kind of paying you back for staying here, right?” She spoke with a strangely earnest tone, as if this idea were perfectly reasonable.
Yu Sheng suddenly realized what was going on. Irene was probably worried that he’d leave her behind if he moved. She wanted to be useful, or at least show that she could be helpful. He didn’t point that out, though. Instead, he shook his head softly.
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” he said. “It’s just a thought. I haven’t decided anything yet. But don’t worry—I won’t leave you behind if I move. You’re trapped in a painting, after all. It’s easy to bring you along. You barely take up any space.”
Irene brightened immediately. “Oh, alright!” she said, smiling happily. But then her face grew a bit uneasy again. “Um… that doll you saw in the mirror,” she asked quietly, “were her eyes closed?”
Yu Sheng thought for a moment, trying to recall every detail. “…No,” he said at last. “I don’t believe they were. Why do you ask?”
Irene bit her lip, looking suddenly sad. “You see,” she explained softly, “when a living doll is broken, if her eyes are closed, it means her soul has returned to the garden in Alice’s Little House, where she can be reborn. But if her eyes are still open… it means she’s still ‘there’—stuck, unable to move on.”
Yu Sheng was stunned and instantly regretted giving his answer so bluntly. “We don’t really know where that mirror was showing,” he said gently after a pause. “If she appeared in that mirror, maybe she has some connection to this house. Who knows—maybe one day we’ll find her. For now, let’s not get too upset about it. You’re still stuck here yourself, right?”
“You’re right,” Irene murmured, her voice quiet and thoughtful. “Sometimes my sisters go out and never come back. But we’ll find her someday, yes, we will.”
For the first time, Yu Sheng realized that Irene might not be as carefree as she seemed. Behind her cheerful chatter and wide-eyed curiosity, she had her own worries and sadness.
They talked a bit longer, their words lingering in the quiet air, and then Yu Sheng decided to return upstairs. He went to the end of the hallway to check that strange room once again. This time, it looked perfectly normal—just like it had before all this confusion started. Satisfied that nothing new had changed, he made his way into his own bedroom.
Drawing the curtains shut, Yu Sheng lay down on his bed. He tossed and turned, feeling exhausted, but he couldn’t quite calm his mind. Too many strange images floated in his thoughts: Irene’s innocent face, the mysterious valley under the night sky, the dizzying knowledge that the Otherworld could swallow him whole. And then there was the memory of the fox-girl who had tried so hard to remain calm, telling him to run—along with the impossible truth that he had somehow returned from death.
He couldn’t say how long he lay there, his mind drifting between wakefulness and sleep, before he finally slipped into slumber.
In his dream, Yu Sheng felt as if his consciousness were sinking into a gentle, shadowy pool. Even in sleep, he sensed his tangled thoughts swirling around him, as if he were watching his own scattered memories through a haze. He could make out faint voices, muffled and distant, until slowly, everything settled into silence.
He dreamt he was walking through a dim twilight world. He wandered across a vast, quiet field, and far away, he could see a small hill. He had the strange feeling he’d been circling that hill for a long, long time. He didn’t know why he was there or even who he was. He seemed to have no purpose.
Then, a flash of silver caught his eye. In that dusky land, where everything was muted and shadowy, this silver glow stood out bright and clear. Without hesitation, he moved toward it. A heartbeat later, he found himself standing before something astonishing.
It was a silver-furred fox—enormous, at least two or three meters tall even while lying down. She slept quietly in the gentle field, looking perfectly peaceful and beautiful. A soft breeze swept over the wild grass, brushing through her graceful, silvery fur. She didn’t stir, curled up with her many thick tails wrapped around her body. Some tails lay snugly against her, others were draped over her like a cozy blanket.
Yu Sheng stared, wide-eyed, at the enormous fox. Somewhere along the way, he realized he was dreaming. Was this the same fox he had seen before? The one called Foxy?
He took a few cautious steps closer and reached out to her paw. “…Foxy, is that you?” he asked softly, as if afraid to wake her.
But the giant white fox didn’t respond. She remained in deep slumber, completely unaware of his touch or voice. Yu Sheng tried calling her again and even tugged gently on one of her tails, but nothing worked. It seemed as though a thick, invisible wall kept her sealed away from him.
Frowning, he stepped back, wondering why the fox was here in his dreams. Before he’d fallen asleep, he had indeed thought about the fox-girl trapped in that other world. But this dream felt too real and meaningful to be a simple vision stirred up by random thoughts.
He glanced down at his right hand and noticed a tiny bead of blood on his fingertip, surrounded by a faint bite mark. He remembered how Foxy had nipped at him over a piece of chocolate. That slight injury still lingered in his memory—and somehow, he realized it might link him to this sleeping fox in his dream.
He considered it carefully. Could the blood be the reason he could sense her presence here? After all, he had also “seen” fragments of her memories back in that valley, as if their minds had brushed against each other.
Yet, another thought nagged at him: The Rain Frog and that fleshy, monstrous creature had tasted his blood too. Why hadn’t they appeared in his dreams as well? The monstrous thing had taken far more than a tiny droplet. So why Foxy, and not them?
Just as Yu Sheng lost himself in these strange questions, he suddenly felt the presence of someone else behind him. A moment later, he heard a low, muffled chuckle drifting over the rustling grass.
He spun around, startled, and spotted a familiar shape poking out of the tall blades of grass. It was Irene’s picture frame—her entire painted figure peeking out from the greenery. She held her teddy bear tightly, and as soon as he looked her way, she put on a guilty grin.
“I told you not to laugh,” Irene hissed to someone behind her, sounding both nervous and annoyed. “Now he’s seen us!”
Yu Sheng stared, dumbfounded. What on earth was Irene doing in his dream? He looked at her poking out of the grass, the doll’s face caught between embarrassment and apology.
“Watching TV got boring,” Irene said with a shrug, “so I thought I’d drop by and see what you were dreaming about…”