Chapter 38: Creation
This novel is translated and hosted on Bcatranslation
The kitchen door’s handle gave a quiet click before it swung open. Yu Sheng stepped inside, carrying several large shopping bags that seemed to weigh him down. He waved cheerfully at Irene, who stood not far away, staring at him with her mouth hanging open.
“I’m back!” he called, setting the bags down with a gentle thump.
For a moment, Irene could only stare in disbelief. She blinked, her eyes growing wider by the second. “Hold on—didn’t you go out to buy things? How did you… come out of the…?” She stopped mid-sentence, as though a sudden idea had popped into her mind.
Her eyes narrowed. “No way! You went to the mall and came back through the ‘door’?”
Yu Sheng nodded proudly. “Exactly. I had a thought. If this door can lead to the Otherworld, it should be able to lead somewhere else in our own world too, right? If it can go far, then why not somewhere close by?” He paused, raising his shopping bags a little. “I even tested whether I could carry items and… living things through it. Turns out, as long as the door is stable, anything can pass through.”
Irene’s head tilted to one side as she tried to understand what he was saying. She seemed especially curious about the “living things” part. “Living things? You actually brought something alive back? Where is it?”
Yu Sheng held up his empty hand and explained with a mischievous grin, “Before I came home, I caught a mosquito…”
Irene stared at him, looking completely dumbstruck. “A… mosquito…?” Her face was so blank it almost looked as if her mind had paused altogether.
After a few seconds, Irene realized that Yu Sheng’s strange creativity deserved a bit of admiration. Still, her attention soon drifted to the shopping bags he had brought. Inside, she quickly noticed a box of Eight-Treasure Congee. Yu Sheng began laying out his purchases on the counter, starting with the congee, then moving on to show her everything else.
“I managed to get lightweight clay,” he said, patting the bags. “Since I bought so much, the shopkeeper tossed in some tools. They’re meant for making small dolls, though, so I’m not sure we’ll need them all. For making your body, I got this—a rolling pin.” He held it up thoughtfully.
“Here are the paints and the artificial hair,” Yu Sheng went on. “They’re pretty good quality. Not the most expensive, but close enough.”
He cleared his throat and gave her a slightly apologetic look. “As for clothes, I couldn’t find anything that would fit our situation…”
“Don’t worry,” Irene said quickly, waving a hand. Her voice sounded eager, almost excited. “I can shape the clothes myself. I told you, this body is just a temporary shell. I’ll be able to form what I need. But look at all this—you really went all out! I’m impressed.”
Yu Sheng smiled, feeling a bit more confident. “Of course I did. If I’m going to help create this body for you, I want to do it right.” Then he frowned, thinking aloud. “But we might still be missing some things. I’ve heard people talk about clay-drying ovens, special fillers, softeners, primers, makeup tools—there’s a lot involved if you’re making something detailed. It’s overwhelming to learn it all at once. Also, I’m worried the clay won’t dry properly. Without a proper oven, big sections might not harden in half a day.”
“It’s fine,” Irene said, her voice surprisingly gentle. “None of those fancy things matter. We just need the proper foundation. The important thing is the ritual—that’s why we’re going to so much trouble. We aren’t just buying a readymade doll.”
“Good, that’s a relief,” Yu Sheng said, letting out a small sigh. He started organizing the heap of materials. “Let’s go to the attic. There’s plenty of space up there, plus a big table.”
Irene nodded, excitement shining in her eyes—until she noticed a rather suspicious-looking bag. She pointed at it, confused. “… What’s with that bag of lotus roots?” she asked, puzzled.
Yu Sheng froze for a moment, then gave a shy laugh and looked from Irene to the bag. “Well… if my sculpting skills aren’t good enough, I thought maybe I could use them as backup, you know… Sort of like ready-made ‘body parts.’”
For a second, Irene just stared at him. Then she nearly jumped out of her red velvet armchair, horrified. “Absolutely not!”
“Really?” Yu Sheng sounded disappointed, pointing at the lotus roots. “They have a pretty perfect shape. I spent a long time picking out the best ones.”
“No way!” Irene almost screeched. “We already talked about how we’re not just throwing things together. First, you tried pre-made meals, and now you want pre-made body parts? I’m not accepting that!”
“Fine, fine,” Yu Sheng sighed in defeat, carrying the lotus roots back into the kitchen. “Guess we’ll make lotus root cakes with them later.”
Irene shivered, a bad feeling creeping up her spine. She suddenly doubted her dream of freedom would be as smooth as she had imagined.
Yu Sheng, on the other hand, seemed more confident than ever. He gathered the tools and materials he would need to build her new body, carefully tucking Irene’s picture frame under his arm. Then he placed a hand on the kitchen door’s handle.
Irene immediately realized what he was about to do. “… Wait, what are you doing?” she asked, sounding both amused and annoyed. “You’re just going to the attic! Do you really need to use the ‘door’ for that?”
Yu Sheng paused, looked a bit embarrassed, and gave a tiny laugh. “Right, that would be too lazy.” He turned toward the staircase instead, leading the way as Irene’s frame and all the materials floated along with him.
The house’s attic was above the second floor. It was extra roomy—large enough that from the outside, the house looked like it had three stories. Inside, however, it was more like a spacious loft rather than a proper floor. Two windows faced the street and a skylight let in some natural light. Normally, Yu Sheng didn’t come up here much. Besides occasional cleaning, he left it alone.
The attic was bare. Aside from a big wooden table that seemed to have been placed there because nobody knew where else to put it, there were only two old chairs that creaked when you sat on them. On a stormy night or during dark weather, the attic could feel spooky and empty. But right now, it felt perfect for crafting a body for Irene.
Yu Sheng made two careful trips, bringing up odds and ends he thought might be useful. He dug out tools from the storage room on the second floor, an old lamp, and some strange materials Irene said were necessary for the ritual. All of these he arranged on the large table, placing Irene’s frame at one corner. He propped her up against a small stack of old books so she could watch.
Quietly, Irene observed from inside her picture frame. She was strangely silent, hugging her teddy bear and lost in thought.
Yu Sheng sat down, the old wooden chair groaning softly beneath his weight. He took a lump of clay in his hands and tried pressing it with a sculpting knife. He tested the tools, feeling a bit uncertain, and trying to get used to their textures.
It was Irene who broke the silence. “Yu Sheng,” she called.
He looked up. “Yes?”
“I’m really going to leave this painting behind and step into a real, solid body,” Irene said softly. “If everything goes right, I’ll be free.”
“Yep, if it all works out,” Yu Sheng agreed, nodding.
Irene’s eyes became distant, and she tightened her grip on her teddy bear. “I never thought this day would actually come,” she murmured. “I had long since given up hope… but here we are.”
“You sound sentimental,” Yu Sheng said, glancing at her. There was a note of understanding in his voice.
She gave a small, sad smile. “It’s nothing, really. I just wanted to say thank you.”
“Let’s save the thanks for after we succeed,” Yu Sheng replied, taking a deep breath, as if to steady himself. “Let’s get started. What’s the first step?”
“First, we need candles. Place them at each corner of the table,” Irene instructed, her voice turning calm and serious. “Light one and put it near my frame. The base shape of the torso must be done before these candles burn out.”
As she explained the steps, Irene’s tone grew solemn. This was the first time she had ever shared secrets from the “Alice’s Little House” with a human. She guided Yu Sheng carefully, explaining how to mark three concentric circles on the table and arrange lines from the candles to the center. She insisted that the circles be round—definitely not square—and told him to write her name in an old script at the center point. When Yu Sheng admitted he didn’t know that script, Irene patiently showed him how to write each letter on a piece of paper. She warned him to be careful—spelling it wrong would ruin everything.
Then came the stranger parts. “We need a bit of your blood,” Irene said. “Just a drop or two. Mix it into the clay along with some tea powder and rose oil. Not too much, though—we don’t want to mess up the clay’s texture.”
Yu Sheng followed her instructions without complaint. He could feel the tension growing, but he stayed focused. He worked patiently, drawing the shapes, mixing the clay, and placing the materials just as Irene said. Together, they created a quiet, determined sort of teamwork. Irene’s guidance was steady and calm. Yu Sheng did exactly as he was told, feeling a seriousness he had never known before.
The process was harder than Yu Sheng had expected. He felt not only the physical strain but also a strange mental pressure, as if each action drew energy from somewhere deep within him. Irene had warned him this would happen. He understood now that these unusual steps weren’t just random—they followed some sort of hidden rule or power he could not fully understand.
Even so, he didn’t panic. He pressed on, making sure he did everything correctly. Little by little, a rough doll-like figure began to take shape. It looked crude, with lumpy limbs of uneven lengths. One leg was shorter than the other. One arm broke off halfway through and had to be reattached with wire and a bit of water. It was, to say the least, far from perfect. Yu Sheng began to suspect he didn’t have much talent for sculpture.
But eventually, they reached the final steps.
“Now you can put out the last candle,” Irene said softly. Her eyes were locked on the doll’s rough form. She looked more serious than Yu Sheng had ever seen before. “After that, place my frame where the doll’s head should be.”
Yu Sheng stood up, nodding as he carefully followed her instructions. “Alright,” he said. “Then what do I do?”
“I need a moment,” Irene whispered, hugging her teddy bear more tightly. “A moment to tell myself it’s going to be okay. A moment to gather my courage…”
He paused, puzzled. “Why do you need courage?”
Irene’s eyes glittered with the threat of tears. “Because… because it’s so terribly ugly,” she admitted in a trembling voice. “I know I can reshape it later, but right now it’s just so… so ugly!”