Axolotl Translations

“Thank you!” Zuo Zhou’s dark, bright eyes instantly lit up with excitement. “I promise I’ll do my best—I won’t disappoint you.”

Shangguan Yu nodded. “How should the payment be arranged? What’s the monthly rate? And how do we handle the trial period?”

Zuo Zhou opened his mouth but hesitated, seemingly unsure of how to respond.

“Oh,” Shangguan Yu said, realizing something from Zuo Zhou’s reaction. “Should I be discussing this with the housekeeping agency instead?”

After all, the payment for the part-time cleaner from yesterday had been sent directly to the agency.

“The agency charges a service fee,” Zuo Zhou said, looking at Shangguan Yu with a hint of pleading in his expression. “My family’s financial situation isn’t great, and I really need to earn more. So… could we skip the agency and just settle it between us?”

Shangguan Yu hesitated. Hiring through an agency wasn’t just about finding a suitable candidate quickly—it also served to protect his rights.

If any disputes arose between him and the caretaker, having a neutral third party mediate would save him the trouble of handling things himself.

Shangguan Yu couldn’t help but feel skeptical. He doubted that a college student like Zuo Zhou would stick around for long—what if he worked for a few days and then suddenly quit, disappearing without a word? If that happened, any money paid in advance would be lost.

And in his current state, it wasn’t like he could just show up at Zuo Zhou’s university to demand a refund.

Sensing his hesitation, Zuo Zhou quickly added, “If you have any doubts about my identity, I can show you my ID and student card. They’re at my school right now, but I can bring them next time.”

“As for the pay, I don’t need much—just enough to cover my living expenses. You can decide the amount.”

“And if you’re worried about trust, I can work first and get paid later.”

“…”

Zuo Zhou had somehow anticipated every concern Shangguan Yu might have and provided solutions that worked entirely in his favor, leaving Shangguan Yu at a temporary loss for words.

Zuo Zhou sat up straight on the couch, hands neatly placed on his knees, and his eyes, brimming with hope, were fixed on Shangguan Yu.

Under that expectant, burning gaze, Shangguan Yu felt increasingly uncomfortable, as if rejecting him now would make him a stone-hearted, utterly merciless villain.

Once again, Shangguan Yu relented. “Alright. I’ll pay you directly, without going through the agency, but payment will be made after the work is done. As for the salary, I’ll follow the market price for live-in housekeepers—5,000 yuan a month, with one day off per week.”

“For the three-day trial, I’ll calculate the payment accordingly. Any issues?”

“Nope!”

Shangguan Yu had originally intended for Zuo Zhou to start working the following Monday. However, that same afternoon, Zuo Zhou made a quick trip to his university and soon returned with nothing but a slightly worn backpack slung over his shoulders.

“That’s all your luggage?”

“Yeah, just a few changes of clothes.” As he spoke, Zuo Zhou pulled his ID and student card from the front pocket of his backpack and handed them to Shangguan Yu. “Here are my documents. If you need, I can make copies for you.”

Shangguan Yu took the IDs and examined them carefully. As expected, Zuo Zhou was indeed a second-year architecture student at Luocheng University. His birthdate on the ID confirmed that he was 20 years old, which matched up with his university status.

“No need,” Shangguan Yu said, handing the documents back. “Come on, I’ll show you your room.”

Shangguan Yu’s home was a three-bedroom apartment of about 140 square meters. It was the place where he had grown up alongside his grandmother, just the two of them.

When he was in his first year of middle school, his father remarried and moved abroad with his new family. . From then on, only Shangguan Yu and his grandmother lived here.

Years later, just before he graduated, his grandmother passed away. His father never returned to China, he only sent money, instructing Shangguan Yu to handle the funeral arrangements.

That was how things always went—whenever his father needed something from him or felt guilty for neglecting him, he would simply send money as compensation.

Like when his grandmother passed away. Like when he was told to return to China instead of staying abroad for medical treatment.

After his grandmother’s passing, Shangguan Yu left her room untouched, preserving everything just as it had been when she was alive, as a way to honor her memory.

With that room off-limits, the only available space was the study, which was now going to be Zuo Zhou’s temporary room.

“This used to be a study, so there’s only a single tatami bed. If it’s too hard, I can get you a mattress.”

“No need, this is perfect.” Zuo Zhou grinned. “This room is great—it’s closer to yours, so if you need anything at night, I can get to you faster.”

The study and Shangguan Yu’s bedroom were right across from each other. The proximity made it easy to keep an eye on each other—if neither door was closed, they could easily see into each other’s rooms.

“Take your time settling in,” Shangguan Yu said as he maneuvered his wheelchair toward the hallway.

“Alright. By the way, what do you feel like eating tonight? I’ll cook for you—consider it a chance to show off my skills.”

Shangguan Yu glanced back briefly but showed little interest. Food had never mattered much to him, and after the accident, he had grown indifferent to almost everything around him.

“Whatever. You decide,” he said flatly before wheeling himself into his room, shutting the door behind him.

As Shangguan Yu disappeared behind the closed door, the cheerful smile on Zuo Zhou’s face melted away. His face grew solemn, a mixture of sorrow and something else—something more personal.

Slowly, he raised the ID cards Shangguan Yu had handed back to him. He brought them to his lips, gently kissing each spot where Shangguan Yu’s fingertips had touched, as if trying to hold on to some lingering trace of warmth.

On the left side of the entrance was a wall lined with bookshelves and a simple desk, while the right side was occupied by a tatami bed that also served as a storage space underneath.

Zuo Zhou laid out the bedsheet that Shangguan Yu had given him, smoothing it carefully before slipping the pillow into its case and placing it neatly at the head of the bed.

He didn’t have many clothes with him—his belongings barely occupied half of the wardrobe.

The room had been cleaned just the day before, leaving everything tidy and fresh. It didn’t take long for him to finish unpacking.

Standing in the middle of the study, he let his eyes roam across the space, his eyes filled with admiration and a quiet longing.

The bookshelves lining the wall were perfectly organized, filled with books and mementos that Shangguan Yu had collected from his travels.

The books fell into two distinct categories—one consisted of architecture-related academic texts, while the other was a collection of mystery novels. There were both domestic and international titles, some famous, some obscure. Some were still wrapped in their original plastic, while others were visibly worn, their spines bent from frequent reading.

Zuo Zhou stood before the shelves, studying each row with fascination. He was already contemplating how to casually ask Shangguan Yu if he could borrow a few of them.

Once he finished inspecting the books, his attention shifted to the various souvenirs.

Among them was a piggy bank crafted from a coconut shell, intricately crafted figurines, and various handmade trinkets that Zuo Zhou couldn’t quite identify.

Zuo Zhou examined each souvenir carefully, wondering where Shangguan Yu had collected these small treasures. Inevitably, he began daydreaming—imagining the day he and Shangguan Yu could travel together, picking out mementos side by side. The thought alone was enough to make the corners of his lips curl into an unconscious smile.

Then, something unusual caught his attention. Among the intricate, expertly crafted ornaments, there was one object that stood out—a small, unassuming, and rather crude carving.

His breath stalled. His hands trembled slightly as he reached out, carefully lifting the object and holding it in his palms.

It was a small wooden figurine, roughly ten centimeters tall, carved from a piece of paulownia root. The details were coarse, almost crude, its details barely discernible—except for a single, faintly smiling mouth.

Yet, it was clear that Shangguan Yu had taken great care of it. The wood had been carefully polished and maintained over the years, retaining its rich, smooth luster and a faint, comforting scent of aged timber.

A wave of tenderness surged through Zuo Zhou’s heart. In his memory, this wooden figurine had seemed much, much bigger. But now, resting in his palm, it was no longer the grand creation he once remembered—it was merely the size of his hand.

And the craftsmanship… Back then, he had spent two whole nights painstakingly sculpting it, pouring all his effort into every detail. The tools had been difficult to handle, and he had even cut his fingers multiple times in his determination to perfect it.

Yet now, as he looked at it with fresh eyes, the piece he had once poured his heart into appeared crude, almost embarrassingly amateurish.

But the thought that even something so rough and imperfect had been carefully preserved and maintained by Shangguan Yu filled Zuo Zhou’s heart with warmth. A gentle sense of joy spread through him, leaving no space for anything else.

Uncontrollably, his mind drifted back to nine years ago—the first time he had met Shangguan Yu. He could still remember that dazzling smile, so bright, so full of life, so captivating.

And now…

Zuo Zhou turned his head slightly, glancing at the tightly shut door across the room. A trace of sorrow flickering in his eyes.

Carefully, he placed the wooden figurine back in its original spot, took a deep breath, and walked toward Shangguan Yu’s room.

Knock, knock, knock.

Zuo Zhou knocked lightly on the door before calling out, “Yu-ge, I’m heading out to buy groceries for dinner. Is there anything you’d like to eat?”

“No, anything is fine.”

“Alright, I’ll head out then?”

“Mm.”

After taking his medication, Shangguan Yu had drifted into a deep sleep. By the time he woke up, night had already fallen, and faint noises drifted in from the living room.

Lying in bed, his eyes remained vacant as he stared at the ceiling. It took him nearly a full minute to recall that the person making those sounds must be his caretaker.

Shangguan Yu lay in bed for a while longer, but soon, a dull ache crept into his lower back. With some effort, he pushed himself upright, carefully shifting his weight as he moved into his wheelchair. He wanted to see what was happening outside.

When he reached the living room, he was met with an unexpected sight—Zuo Zhou, wearing an apron, bustling around in the kitchen.

Shangguan Yu was momentarily taken aback. After living alone for so many years, the sudden presence of someone so tall and lively moving around his home felt oddly foreign, almost intrusive.

In the kitchen, Zuo Zhou heard the movement and instinctively turned his head. The moment he spotted Shangguan Yu, he abandoned what he was holding and hurried over, visibly flustered.

“You’re awake! Why didn’t you call me?” Zuo Zhou crouched down beside Shangguan Yu’s wheelchair, looking up with a mix of concern and attentiveness. “Dinner’s almost ready. Are you thirsty? I can get you some water.”

Shangguan Yu tensed instinctively. He wasn’t used to such close attention or physical proximity. He subtly adjusted his wheelchair, retreating half a step before responding in a neutral tone, “Get me a glass of water.”

Zuo Zhou paid no mind to Shangguan Yu’s indifference. He simply responded with a cheerful “Got it!” before quickly making his way to the water dispenser.

“I just bought some lemons and passion fruit from the supermarket. Do you want one of those, or just plain water?”

“…Plain water.”

“Alright.”

Zuo Zhou handed the warm glass of water to Shangguan Yu. Once he had taken it, Zuo Zhou naturally moved behind him, gently pushing his wheelchair over to the sofa.

“There’s some sliced fruit here, and the remote’s right next to you. I’ll be in the kitchen making dinner.”

Only after hearing Zuo Zhou’s words did Shangguan Yu notice the neatly arranged fruit platter on the coffee table. The television remote was placed nearby, just within reach.

It was such a small gesture. And yet, for some reason, a subtle warmth bloomed in Shangguan Yu’s heart.

Shangguan Yu glanced at Zuo Zhou, who had already darted back into the kitchen, then shifted his gaze away and picked up a slice of cantaloupe from the fruit platter.

Hmm. Sweet.

He absentmindedly watched half an episode of a dull TV show before Zuo Zhou’s voice called him over for dinner.

Shangguan Yu turned off the TV and moved toward the dining table. The moment he saw the meal spread out before him, his mouth fell open slightly in surprise.

“Are you hungry?” Zuo Zhou emerged from the kitchen, untying his apron as he spoke. “Come on, eat while it’s hot.”

Shangguan Yu looked up at him. For a second, he was about to comment on the food, but his attention caught on something else. Instead, he frowned slightly and asked, “What… are you wearing?”

It wasn’t until now that he noticed the ridiculous clothes Zuo Zhou had been wearing— a bright red apron with an enormous print of two chunky sausages crossed in the middle.

“Oh, this?” Without a hint of embarrassment, Zuo Zhou smoothly took it off and casually tossed it aside. “Came free with the sausages I bought. It’s waterproof, too.” He grinned. “Anyway, dig in—tell me what you think of my cooking.”

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