Chapter 59

Chapter 59: Repair

Thirty minutes later, Yu Sheng stared nervously at the Little Doll lying on the alchemy bench.

Irene propped herself up and slowly sat upright, her eyes dazed as if she were trying to understand the universe.

The doll was 66.6 centimeters tall and smelled faintly of lotus root.

The experiment had, unfortunately, succeeded.

Yu Sheng watched her for a while. When she didn’t immediately explode—or bite him—his confidence rose. “See? I told you it could work. You can use flour. Why can’t lotus—”

“Stop talking,” Irene said, raising a hand to cut him off. She stared down at her hands with a disturbed expression. “I don’t get it. How can this work? It makes no sense. How did this work…?”

Yu Sheng’s mouth twitched. “You told me to try.”

“I never should’ve let you try!” Irene glared, her tiny face puffing with anger. “How was I supposed to know you’d succeed? Now my arms are literally lotus root!”

She flexed them again, then hissed, half outraged and half horrified. “They’re grown in. Together. How did you even do this? The power of thinking? Huh?!”

Yu Sheng honestly thought it might be.

He had zero foundation in alchemy. He’d only followed Irene’s instructions step by step. When he injected blood into the lotus roots and performed spirit infusion, he hadn’t been thinking about anything at all. He hadn’t known it was ridiculous. When the infused lotus roots had wriggled into place as limbs near her elbows, he’d simply assumed it was… normal.

He hadn’t expected to scare her this badly.

“Sorry,” Yu Sheng said at last, uneasy. “Should we swap them out? I can go downstairs and find an axe—”

He didn’t finish.

Irene’s glare shut him down so thoroughly he felt it in his bones.

“…Alright,” Yu Sheng said quickly. “Forget I said that.”

“It’s like this now,” Irene muttered, exhausted. “What else can we do?”

She raised her arms again, carefully curling each finger one by one, like she was afraid they’d suddenly detach and go feral.

But soon she realized they worked.

Perfectly.

Even if the material was lotus root.

“Are you done testing?” Yu Sheng asked carefully. Only when he was sure she wouldn’t try to bite him did he add, “They work normally, right? They don’t hurt?”

Irene let out a long sigh. “They work. No discomfort.”

“If they work, then they work,” Yu Sheng said, finally relaxing. “You scared me.”

His gaze dropped to her legs. She still couldn’t stand.

“Now we fix your legs. Let me see how bad it is.”

Irene said, “Oh,” then suddenly looked up and locked eyes with him. “Wait. What are you planning to use? I’m warning you—if you pull out lotus root powder, a dump truck will hit you in your dreams tonight.”

Yu Sheng looked genuinely baffled. “Your body is made of clay. You don’t even mind using flour. Why are you so against other—”

Irene jabbed a tiny finger toward his face. The gesture had zero intimidation, but the sheer offense in her eyes made up for it. “You humans keep pets. Why don’t you keep cockroaches? You humans eat organic things. Why don’t you eat—”

“Alright, I get it,” Yu Sheng said quickly, cutting her off. “You don’t have to say it. Don’t worry. I have normal repair material.”

He opened another drawer and took out a small jar of epoxy putty.

“In theory, the best way to patch a clay doll is to use the same clay,” Yu Sheng said, reading off the instructions as he spoke. “But we’re out. This should work, as long as we process it with alchemy, right?”

“And you smooth it with a scraper,” Irene said reluctantly. “Fine.”

Then she frowned, curious. “When did you prepare that?”

“It came as a free gift with the clay,” Yu Sheng said. “I shoved it under everything and forgot.” He set the jar down and took a breath. “Alright. Let me see.”

Only then did Irene relax. She lifted the ornate lace-trimmed skirt slightly and peeled off the stocking on her right leg.

Her ivory calf was webbed with black cracks of every size. Some ran through her knee and crept upward toward her thigh.

Yu Sheng’s breath caught. “…Holy shit.”

“At least it’s not broken,” Irene said, still too calm. “If it broke, you’d graft lotus root on again.”

“It’s not about broken,” Yu Sheng said, voice tight. “Why are you so casual? It really doesn’t hurt?”

He’d seen blood in the last two days. He’d watched his own body torn and mangled. But looking at Irene’s leg—something that should have been smooth and whole, now shattered like glazed porcelain—hit him differently.

It was grotesque in a way that made his stomach turn.

He reached out and gently touched the split edges. The area around the cracks felt hard, almost like wood. Irene’s normal limbs were soft, no different from a human’s. This hardened texture meant the structure around the cracks was losing its “soul sync.”

If they delayed much longer, it would snap and shatter outright—just like her arms.

Irene laughed, trying to sound light. “Don’t rub. It tickles. It doesn’t hurt. Not at all… okay, fine. It hurts a tiny bit. Really, really light.”

She held up her hands and brought her index fingers close together, showing just how “tiny.”

Yu Sheng sighed. He took a small knife and cut the back of his hand, then began mixing his blood into the putty, stirring with the scraper as he muttered, “This is way too scary. I don’t know how living doll biology works, but next time you’re hurt, can you stop acting like it’s nothing? If it’s serious, tell me earlier. I’m the one fixing you.”

Irene rolled her eyes. “You look scary when you die with your eyes open too. I never said anything about you.”

Yu Sheng snorted, then focused. Once the mixture was ready, he carefully smeared it onto her wounds with the scraper.

“Hey,” Irene complained, squirming. “Ticklish…”

“Hold still,” Yu Sheng said. “Don’t move.”

“Okay.”

For a while, Irene stayed quiet. Then, because waiting to be repaired was apparently unbearable, she started talking again.

“Those two agents we met today… I actually wanted to talk to them,” Irene said. “I wanted to see if they could contact the sister from Alice Little House. I can’t remember the exact details about the Special Operations Bureau, but it should be Boundary City’s official organization. They should have exchanges with Alice Little House…”

“Then why didn’t you say so?” Yu Sheng asked, without looking up.

The scraper spread the putty, filling each crack. The moment the blood-mixed material touched her skin, it gave off a faint sizzle, melting into dark mist and mud before fusing into her body. The flesh-like texture returned gradually, along with elasticity.

“I don’t know,” Irene said quietly. “I just felt uneasy. A spiritual warning. Like… I couldn’t settle. Maybe because we just met them, and I don’t trust them yet. Or maybe I’ve been disconnected from the outside world too long. I’m not sure how things are between the different forces in the Borderland now.”

Yu Sheng stopped and looked up. “So next time we meet them, should I bring up your situation? They saw you today. They’ll report it.”

“I’m not afraid of a report,” Irene said. “There’s no 66.6-centimeter living doll in this world. If they report it, they’ll probably assume I’m some kind of alchemical creature. That won’t be rare to them.” She hesitated, then looked at Yu Sheng. “As for next time… we’ll see. If their identities are real, and they’re confirmed official, then ask them about Alice Little House. If they can connect things and help me find the other living doll sister in this city, that would be even better. If I can see my own people… I’d feel much safer.”

Yu Sheng rarely saw Irene look this uncertain.

But he understood.

If he’d been sealed away for half a century or longer, then dropped into a world he no longer recognized—its rules shifted, its power structures unknown—asking other forces for help would demand caution.

Yu Sheng let out a small breath, set down the scraper, and gently reset Irene’s knee joint.

“Try standing up.”