Axolotl Translations

Could it be that after the accident, he couldn’t bear to see his past self and deleted all his old photos to avoid painful memories?

That was possible, but…

A sudden thought struck Zuo Zhou. He quickly searched for hidden folders in “My Computer.” In no time, he found one—hidden away, mysteriously named “Clause”

The living room was dead silent, making his own heartbeat sound ridiculously loud. He cast a nervous glance toward Shangguan Yu’s bedroom. Seeing signs of movement, he let out a silent breath of relief and turned back to the laptop.

He double-clicked the folder—only to be met with a password prompt.

After a moment’s thought, he tried Shangguan Yu’s birthday. Incorrect. Then, he entered different combinations—Shangguan Yu’s initials, his full name, his name mixed with his birthday. Nothing worked.

Frowning, Zuo Zhou leaned back against the sofa, holding the laptop as he mulled it over. After a long moment, he tentatively tapped out a series of numbers.

With a sudden click, the folder unlocked.

But instead of excitement, Zuo Zhou’s expression dimmed with quiet sorrow. There was no sense of triumph in cracking the password.

Because the numbers he had just typed in… were the date of Shangguan Yu’s car accident.

As soon as Zuo Zhou opened the folder named “Clause”, more than a dozen subfolders appeared before him.

From the names alone, it was easy to tell which stage of life they belonged to—Shangguan Yu’s childhood, middle school, university, his daily life after starting work, and even travel photos from various places across the country.

But the most striking detail? No more photos were added after the day of the accident.

A person who once documented life in such detail must have cherished it deeply. And yet, after the accident, it seemed like he had never picked up a camera again.

Zuo Zhou couldn’t quite describe what he was feeling at that moment. It was a mix of sorrow and heartache, an overwhelming wish that he could bear all of Shangguan Yu’s pain in his place.

Taking a deep breath, he prepared to look through the photos carefully.

But just as his mouse hovered over the first folder, something in his peripheral vision caught his attention—a folder in the middle of the list.

It was named “Jiuru Township Assistance Program.”

Nestled among all the other folders, it wasn’t particularly noticeable. Yet, Zuo Zhou spotted it immediately.

The reason was simple—Jiuru Township was where he had first met Shangguan Yu. It was also his birthplace, the hometown where he had grown up.

Unconsciously, Zuo Zhou held his breath. His eyes lingered on those four simple words for a long time before he finally clicked on the folder—his movements filled with a solemn reverence.

There weren’t many photos inside, but the fact that they were separated from the rest made Zuo Zhou think. Perhaps, in the long years he had spent missing Shangguan Yu, had Shangguan Yu ever done the same? Had he ever opened this folder, looked at these photos, and thought of him?

The images captured a time long past—Shangguan Yu at nineteen, during his first year of university, when he had participated in a poverty relief program in Jiuru Township as part of a student organization.

Back then, Shangguan Yu had been young, strikingly handsome, full of life and optimism. His smile was brighter than the sun, his demeanor calm and composed, his presence effortlessly captivating. Even in a simple white T-shirt and jeans, he had been the most eye-catching person in the crowd.

Even after all this time, Zuo Zhou was helpless against the pull of fate. He had always been drawn to Shangguan Yu. His gaze, his heart—everything was filled with this one person.

Unable to resist, he raised a hand and gently traced the image of Shangguan Yu’s smiling face on the screen. The flood of memories came rushing back, so overwhelming that his eyes stung with unshed tears.

If it meant bringing that radiant, dazzling smile back to Shangguan Yu’s face, Zuo Zhou was willing to do anything—absolutely anything—to protect it, to keep it from fading.

One by one, he flipped through the photos. The familiar faces and backdrops pulled him back to that summer—the summer he had first met Shangguan Yu and everything began.

Nine years ago, a nineteen-year-old Shangguan Yu, still in his first year of university, joined his school’s volunteer organization on a trip to Jiuru Township, a remote mountainous area under Luochengs’s jurisdiction. The city had organized a poverty alleviation and teaching support program, and he had signed up to help.

That same year, Zuo Zhou was just eleven. And if you had seen him back then, you probably wouldn’t have recognized him—he was so thin from chronic malnutrition that he looked like a little monkey.

His parents had passed away when he was very young, leaving him to be raised by his frail and aging grandmother. She did everything she could to provide for him, but with her declining health, even the bare essentials—food, clothing, warmth—were hard to come by. There was no time for discipline, no energy for extra care, only enough to keep him from starving or freezing to death.

As a result, Zuo Zhou barely managed to bathe once a month. His body carried an unpleasant odor, lice nested in his unkempt hair, and his hands—red and swollen from winter chilblains—looked like carrots. His small face was covered in grime, making it impossible to tell what he really looked like.

And because his family was the poorest even among the poor, the other villagers avoided him, terrified that his filth—or worse, his lice—might spread to them.

Little Zuo Zhou grew up feeling inferior under the weight of this rejection. He longed to be like the other kids, to be held in his parents’ arms, to eat a warm meal cooked by his mother, to sit on his father’s shoulders and see the world from up high. But none of that was possible. His world revolved around his grandmother—his only family.

Despite her illness, she worked tirelessly, weaving baskets day and night just to put food on the table. Her hands were covered in calluses and fresh cuts from the wicker, and her eyesight was failing. Zuo Zhou knew he couldn’t afford to be just a child. He had to be strong, to step up, to earn money, and take care of his grandmother.

Because that was what real men did.

That summer, little Zuo Zhou told his grandmother that he didn’t want to go to school anymore. He wanted to work. He had heard the adults in the village say that working in the mines paid well, so he decided to become a miner.

He still remembered the way his grandmother cried when he said those words. Her cloudy eyes welled with tears as she looked at him, murmuring, “What a cruel fate… Grandma has failed you… Grandma is useless…” Then, she hugged his head tightly, sobbing as she reluctantly agreed.

Back then, little Zuo Zhou didn’t understand why she was crying. If he started earning money, everything would get better—so why was she so sad?

He asked his grandmother, but she didn’t answer. She just held him even tighter.

So, little Zuo Zhou stopped asking. Instead, he reached out his dirty little handand patted his grandmother’s back, telling her not to cry.

Little Zuo Zhou’s first encounter with Shangguan Yu happened not long after he had decided to follow a village uncle to work in the mines.

That day, just before noon, little Zuo Zhou was helping his grandmother cook in the kitchen when he suddenly heard footsteps entering their small yard.

He threw down the firewood stick and ran outside. There, he saw the village chief, the school principal, and a few well-dressed city folk carrying gifts as they walked toward his house.

Seeing Zuo Zhou run out, the village chief immediately smiled and introduced him to the city people. “This is the boy who’s planning to drop out—his name is ‘Coal Ball’.”

Little Zuo Zhou stood still in the yard, watching the city people with wary eyes.

Among the group of strangers, the most handsome one walked forward, crouched down with a smile, and slightly lifted his face to look at Zuo Zhou. “Hello, little Coal Ball. My name is Shangguan Yu. Children should study hard and improve every day. Let’s make a pinky promise—if you stay in school, I will cover all your tuition and living expenses. What do you think?”

After speaking, he gently patted Zuo Zhou’s hair and held up his pinky, waiting for the promise.

Zuo Zhou stared at him, both stunned and dazed. Other than his grandmother, no one had ever touched his head before. And this person—he was so handsome, so clean. His smile was brighter than the sun, his eyes clearer than the stars.

And his hands—those long, slender fingers, that fair, smooth skin—he looked like a pure, white angel. But Zuo Zhou… he was covered in dirt, like a little rat that had crawled out of the mud.

He didn’t dare touch Shangguan Yu’s hand. Nervous and uneasy, he clenched his fists tightly. It wasn’t until the school principal came over and told him to hurry up and thank Shangguan Yu that he finally reacted. Trembling slightly, he finally lifted his grimy little hand and hooked his pinky with Shangguan Yu’s.

In the photograph, Zuo Zhou had washed his face for once. He stood stiffly in the middle, holding the large red banner the principal had given him. Beside him, Shangguan Yu was smiling radiantly.

One hand held the other end of the banner, while the other rested gently on Zuo Zhou’s shoulder as he looked warmly into the camera.

Around them stood the village leaders, professors from Luocheng University, and the organizers of the volunteer event.

They gathered around little Zuo Zhou and Shangguan Yu, capturing this precious group photo.

Sitting on the sofa, Zuo Zhou’s lips curled into a soft smile, his eyes misting with emotion at the memories.

He reached out and gently stroked Shangguan Yu’s smiling face in the photo, whispering softly, “This time, let me be your angel.”

***

In the blink of an eye, October had flown by, and Zuo Zhou had been working as Shangguan Yu’s caregiver for a little over a month.

During this time, Zuo Zhou took meticulous care of Shangguan Yu’s daily life. Not only did he prepare delicious meals and snacks, but he also diligently cleaned the house until it sparkled. He filled the home with a variety of green plants that Shangguan Yu couldn’t even name, transforming the place into a lively, verdant haven—completely different from the cold, desolate state it had been in when Shangguan Yu first returned.

Overall, Shangguan Yu was quite pleased with Zuo Zhou’s performance. At the end of the month, he promptly paid Zuo Zhou and secretly hoped he’d stick around a while longer.

The night before the National Day holiday, the two of them had dinner and then settled into the living room to watch TV together.

Ever since Shangguan Yu helped Zuo Zhou correct his mistakes in his assignment, the two had occasionally spent time together in the living room watching TV. Shangguan Yu also found himself less resistant to sharing a space with Zuo Zhou, as if he had unknowingly grown accustomed to having him around every day.

They were watching an intense crime thriller, both completely engrossed. When the episode ended, Shangguan Yu pressed pause and prepared to head to the bathroom.

Just as he started maneuvering his wheelchair forward, Zuo Zhou stood up and asked, “Brother Yu, are you going to the bathroom?”

“…Mm.”

“I’ll take you.”

Before Shangguan Yu could even get the words “No, it’s fine,” out of his mouth, Zuo Zhou had already stepped behind him and effortlessly pushed his wheelchair toward the bathroom.

Shangguan Yu: …

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