Axolotl Translations

A tragic accident changed Gu Mengran’s life forever.

One misstep sent him plunging from the boat. The boat’s propeller shredded half his face, leaving him permanently disfigured. Worse, it took his leg.

By some miracle, he survived. Even with the bare minimum of medical treatment, he managed to cling to life. But from that day on, he was no longer the same.

Something had changed.

A mysterious space had appeared within him.

That was what Gu Mengran called it because, much like the portable dimensions from fictional novels, it allowed him to store and retrieve objects at will. Anything placed inside remained unchanged, untouched by time—never decaying, never deteriorating.

However, his space had a unique twist.

It was divided into two distinct sections.

Inside, two vast open fields stretched before him—one lush with green grass, the other barren, covered in dry yellow soil. Both were enormous.

Once, out of curiosity, Gu Mengran measured them by foot. The barren land measured roughly 120 meters long and 80 meters wide, and the grassy area was identical in size. Together, they were about the size of two standard soccer fields.

Separating them was a crystal-clear stream, cutting a perfect line between the two halves.

Though they seemed similar at first glance, their functions were vastly different.

The right side—the grassy one—served as storage. Anything could be placed there, as long as it wasn’t alive. But there was a catch: no one could physically enter, not even Gu Mengran. He could only store and retrieve things from the outside.

The left side, with its dry soil? That was strictly for living creatures.

Gu Mengran could come and go as he pleased, but lifeless objects couldn’t pass through with him.

The stream running through the middle acted like an invisible barrier, cutting off any dreams he had of making the space his permanent home.

Then, one day, by pure chance, he got his hands on a bag of seeds. On a whim, he tried taking them inside—and to his surprise, it worked.

One side for growing food. One side for storage. And when things got bad? A place to hide.

That was the true purpose of his space.

Unfortunately, by the time he’d figured it out in his last life, it was already too late. They were already at the end of their rope. At best, it had stretched their survival for two more years.

But now, he had three years of preparation ahead of him.

And the space had come back with him.

This time, he’d make sure everything was set up properly.

After careful thought, Gu Mengran chose not to reveal the other function of his space to his grandfather. The “vanishing grape trick” had already given the old man quite the scare—no matter how tough he was, repeated shocks wouldn’t do his health any favors.

Besides, with an experienced captain in charge, Gu Mengran didn’t have to worry about the ship. He simply provided some modification suggestions and left the rest in his grandfather’s capable hands.

His own task was simple: in one month, he needed to fill both the ship’s cargo hold and his storage space to the brim.

The next morning, after a solid night’s sleep, Gu Mengran set his plan in motion.

As his grandfather hurried off to the shipyard, Gu Mengran hopped into the old man’s slow but reliable scooter and drove to a nearby car rental shop.

An hour later, he was on the road in a rented box truck, heading straight for the largest grain and oil market in Yuntian City.

Yes, his space allowed him to grow crops. But stockpiling supplies was still priority number one.

A single person needed at least 200 pounds of grain per year just to survive.

Gu Mengran didn’t cut corners and planned for ten years’ worth. He purchased forty 100-pound sacks of rice, twenty 100-pound sacks of flour, and another twenty sacks of assorted beans and grains.

Staple foods like these weren’t expensive.

But buying in bulk like this? It was bound to attract attention.

Recently, the yellow fog had triggered a wave of panic buying. Even the shop owner couldn’t help but comment, “Kid, you look way too young to be in business. You’re not jumping on the doomsday prepping bandwagon like those people online, are you?”

Gu Mengran kept his expression relaxed, smiling as he replied, “Of course not, sis. Stockpiling like that is pointless—food goes bad if you don’t eat it in time. My family runs a floating supermarket, and we just added a few more boats. I’m here to stock up for them.”

Yuntian was located along the lower reaches of the Huangjiang River, an area known for its thriving inland shipping industry.

The shop owner was a local, so she caught on quickly. The moment she realized he was a big customer, her attitude did a complete 180. Suddenly, she was all smiles, offering discounts and even asking for his contact info in hopes of securing a long-term business relationship.

Gu Mengran agreed without hesitation. “Sounds good! I’ll let my parents know.”

After settling the payment, he followed her to the warehouse to load the goods.

His truck was too small to haul everything in one trip. The shop owner, eager to build a good relationship, generously offered free delivery.

But Gu Mengran politely declined. He’d rather make multiple trips himself.

The reason?

Simple—he didn’t even have a storage facility. Where would they deliver it?

After loading up the truck, Gu Mengran drove straight to Yuntian Port’s logistics warehouse.

Once inside, he acted like he was looking for something, wandering around a few times before casually pulling over to the side of the road. Then, without anyone noticing, he silently transferred the entire truckload of goods into his space.

The whole process took less than half an hour. When he drove out of the warehouse, his truck looked no different than before—just another vehicle among hundreds.

In a province that thrived on shipping, the port’s logistics warehouses were as busy as a farmers’ market. Trucks constantly came and went, loading and unloading cargo. Nobody paid any attention to a single, unremarkable box truck.

Since “unloading” took time, he didn’t rush back for another load right away. Instead, Gu Mengran took a detour to the wholesale produce market..

In his last life, he had suffered through hunger too many times. He wasn’t about to let history repeat itself.

Truckload after truckload, he stocked up on fruits, vegetables, cooking oil, vinegar, soy sauce, sugar, salt, chili peppers, and Sichuan peppercorns.

Then he moved on to meat—pork, beef, lamb, chicken, duck, fish, shrimp. Fresh seafood, frozen meats, anything with long-term value.

Unlike grains, fresh food spoiled fast, so the floating supermarket excuse wouldn’t work this time. To avoid suspicion, he scattered his purchases across multiple fresh markets, slaughterhouses, and farms, spreading out his activity as much as possible.

On the way, he passed a liquor and tobacco shop and stopped in for another sweep.

Gu Mengran didn’t drink or smoke, and while his grandfather occasionally enjoyed a sip, these supplies weren’t for personal use. They were for bartering.

When the time came, he couldn’t expect to trade fresh vegetables for survival necessities.. Things like alcohol and cigarettes had far more universal value.

With that in mind, he placed an online order for more essentials: biscuits, instant noodles, canned goods, and other ready-to-eat foods, plus milk powder, chocolate, and high-protein, high-energy snacks.

Gu Mengran wasn’t worried about drawing attention with his bulk purchases. When disaster hit, they wouldn’t be here anymore—no need to worry about anyone keeping tabs on him.

He wrapped up his food purchases with dried goods: dried vegetables, mushrooms, seafood, preserved fruits, and jerky.

Three years of endless rain. If he didn’t stock up now, he might never get the chance again.

With food secured, he moved on to clothing and daily necessities.

Since post-disaster temperatures tended to be high, Gu Mengran found a local clothing factory online and placed a bulk order for T-shirts, shorts, and underwear.

Still, just in case, he prepared plenty of winter wear—down jackets, thermal coats, blankets, and even twenty full-body protective suits.

For footwear, he bought summer and winter shoes and socks in various styles and sizes.

Daily necessities were too many and too varied, so he opted to buy them online. It was more expensive, but it saved time. He also ordered a batch of basins, buckets, storage containers, and even some tea and beverages—for a little comfort when things got tough.

After five days of running around, and his space was only a quarter full. His wallet, on the other hand, was completely empty.

The money he had saved from summer jobs, the allowances from his grandfather and his so-called father, and even the compensation from his mother’s accident—all of it was gone in a matter of days.

Asking for money wasn’t something Gu Mengran could do easily. He had too much pride for that.

But before he could even think about bringing it up, his grandfather casually tossed him a bank card that night.

The old man, usually frugal to the bone, suddenly turned generous. With a casual wave of his hand, he said, “Spend as much as you need.”

His grandfather never mentioned how much was on the card, so Gu Mengran made a trip to the ATM the next day to check.

One glance at the balance nearly made his heart stop—three million.

Three. Whole. Million.

Between the cargo ship, modifications, and additional equipment, his grandfather had already spent five million. Now he was casually handing over another three million in cash?

This old man had been hiding some serious assets.

With three million in his pocket, Gu Mengran’s confidence soared, and he went on a shopping spree. Hardware stores first—he loaded up on cutting machines, nail guns, and every tool he thought he might need.

Next came medicine. Painkillers, fever reducers, anti-inflammatories—every over-the-counter drug he could find, he bought in bulk.

Since his space allowed for farming, seeds were a must.

At the agricultural market, he bought large packs of every kind of crop and fruit tree seed he could find.

But just growing plants wasn’t enough—he needed livestock too.

After leaving the market, he headed straight for the poultry wholesale center and bought forty chicks, forty ducklings, forty goslings, twenty squabs, and twenty piglets, calves, and lambs each.

Neither he nor his grandfather had any experience with farming or animal husbandry, so he made a detour to the bookstore, hoping to grab a few reference books.

But the moment he walked in, reality smacked him in the face.

He didn’t just lack farming knowledge—he was clueless about a ton of things.

Ship Maintenance and Repair, The Complete Guide to Crop Cultivation, Efficient Poultry Farming, Postpartum Care for Sows…

The list of necessary books was endless.

Instead of lugging home a mountain of physical books, he decided to go digital. He bought several large-capacity USB drives and downloaded everything he needed.

After the disaster, entertainment would be scarce. So, after downloading all the reference books, Gu Mengran added a bunch of movies, TV shows, novels, anything he could think of to the download queue.

With that, most of the essential supplies were taken care of. Now came the real wallet-draining expenses.

As night crept in, the yellow fog thickened, swirling like a never-ending storm cloud—heavy and oppressive. Even just looking out the window for too long made his chest feel tight, as if something were squeezing the air from his lungs.

Gu Mengran had been at his computer all day, and his back was killing him. Figuring his grandfather would be home soon, he stretched and got up, planning to find something to eat.

Before he could make it to the kitchen—

Beep! Beep!

Two sharp honks sounded from outside.

“Grandpa?”

His bedroom was near the main hall, so Gu Mengran took a few quick steps to the door and craned his neck to look out. Sure enough, his grandfather was back.

The rolling shutter door was wide open, and the little red electric scooter hummed as it drove into the courtyard.

As soon as the vehicle came to a stop, Meng Gaoyang stepped out, his slippers shuffling against the floor. But his usual energetic demeanor was gone. Instead, he looked utterly deflated—like someone who had just lost their entire paycheck in a rigged game.

Gu Mengran’s eyelid twitched. Sensing something was wrong, he hurried forward. “What happened, Grandpa?”

Meng Gaoyang’s brows knitted into deep furrows as he let out a long, heavy sigh. “I just got back from the shipyard. They said—”

He stopped mid-sentence.

The sudden pause nearly gave Gu Mengran a heart attack. He pressed, “Told you what? Is there a problem with the ship? Is it delayed?”

His grandfather had pulled some strings and paid extra to secure an in-stock, fully built ship. Generally speaking, buying a boat was as simple as buying a car—once the paperwork was done, you could take it home the same day. But since Gu Mengran had requested modifications and interior renovations, the process naturally took longer.

To speed things up, he had paid double the rush fee. They had initially promised delivery within two weeks, and now, ten days had already passed. Gu Mengran couldn’t wrap his head around it—he had all the necessary paperwork, and the modifications and refurbishments weren’t that complicated. What kind of delay could possibly happen?

His grandfather sat there, brows furrowed, looking more and more troubled. But he wasn’t saying anything.

That only made Gu Mengran’s anxiety skyrocket. His heart was practically in his throat now.

But seeing how serious his grandfather looked, he didn’t dare press him for answers. Instead, he tried to reassure him. “It’s fine, Grandpa. The shipyard knows what they’re doing. Modifications like this aren’t a big deal—there won’t be any major issues.”

Then, after a brief pause, he added, “I’ll head over right now and check things out.”

With that, he turned to leave, quickly pulling out his phone to call a ride. But before he could step out the door, a hand suddenly grabbed his wrist.

Startled, Gu Mengran turned back, only to see his grandfather grinning from ear to ear. His eyes crinkled shut, his expression beaming with mischief. There wasn’t a single trace of that earlier gloom.

Gu Mengran was momentarily stunned. Then, it clicked—his grandfather had been messing with him!

“You’ve got to be kidding me, Grandpa! How could you use something like this to scare me?”

“Hahaha… How was I supposed to know you’d react so strongly?”

Fuming, Gu Mengran stomped back into the house. “I’m not talking to you anymore.”

“The shipyard actually got back to me.” Meng Gaoyang grabbed Gu Mengran’s arm to keep him from leaving and, this time, didn’t drag things out. He cleared his throat deliberately and said, “The delivery date has been moved up. The day after tomorrow—we’re picking up the boat.”

Gu Mengran spun around. “Are you serious?”

“As real as it gets.”

“That’s great.” A genuine smile broke across Gu Mengran’s face.

Getting the ship three days early meant they could board and move on to the next phase ahead of schedule. Compared to this piece of good news, his grandfather’s harmless prank wasn’t even worth holding a grudge over.

Still basking in the excitement, Gu Mengran suddenly felt a faint vibration in his palm.

His phone was buzzing—not a WeChat message, not a call, but a notification from an app he hadn’t used in years. He swiped to unlock his screen, and the moment he saw the message, his smile froze. His heartbeat faltered.

Class Rep Zheng Yifei: [Old classmate, I got you the contact info you wanted. How are you going to thank me?]

[Don’t forget to treat me to dinner later.]

[139XXXX2583, Liang Zhao.]

The moment he saw that name—Liang Zhao—Gu Mengran’s fingers tightened around his phone, his breath catching in his throat.

His eyes reddened, emotions welling up silently.

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