Axolotl Translations

“—Ah! That hurts! Grandpa, take it easy!”

The bedroom was filled with the strong, lingering scent of medicated oil.

Gu Mengran sat slumped against the headboard, his pale face twisted in pain, lips twitching uncontrollably.

His right foot was firmly held in Meng Gaoyang’s iron grip. The old man’s rough hands, slick with herbal oil, kneaded and massaged his swollen toes without mercy.

The deep, aching pain sent jolts through Gu Mengran’s nerves, making him instinctively pull his foot back. But every time he did, a sharp smack landed on his calf.

After four or five rounds of this, he finally gave up struggling, biting down on the corner of his blanket to muffle his groans—though that didn’t stop him from grumbling under his breath.

Meng Gaoyang sat at the foot of the bed, his expression grim. Every now and then, he’d glance up at Gu Mengran, as if he wanted to say something—but in the end, he said nothing at all.

The combination of physical pain and suffocating silence was unbearable.

Gu Mengran couldn’t take it anymore. Flashing an awkward smile, he tentatively asked, “Grandpa… I passed out earlier, didn’t I? How long was I out?”

Meng Gaoyang shot him a glare. “You don’t know if you passed out?”

Gu Mengran countered matter-of-factly, “I was unconscious! How would I know?”

The old man fell silent, his face growing even darker.

A strange tension filled the room.

Gu Mengran shut his eyes, trying to piece together what happened. He had blacked out in the warehouse. His last memory was Liang Zhao finding him—and then… nothing.

More than how long he’d been out, he really wanted to know—

How did he end up back here?

There was no need to beat around the bush with his grandfather. If he had a question, he’d ask it.

But upon hearing this, Grandpa Meng’s face darkened even further. His hands pressed harder against Gu Mengran’s foot, the massage turning into something closer to punishment.

“How did you get back? Liang carried you, of course! I should’ve recorded the whole thing—so you could see what a spectacle you made of yourself!”

Gu Mengran immediately sat up straight, alarm bells ringing in his head. “What do you mean, ‘a spectacle’?”

Meng Gaoyang smirked coldly, then—with an exaggeratedly pitiful voice—mimicked him:

“‘Liang Zhao, Liang Zhao, my leg hurts so much… don’t leave me, Liang Zhao…’“

“That kid carried you all the way back, and you? You clung to him like your life depended on it! Wouldn’t even let go! Kept whimpering his name, too.”

Gu Mengran: ……………

I’m done for.

I pass out for one second, and the sky comes crashing down.

Before he could even begin to process this absolute disaster, his grandfather suddenly looked up, his teasing gone. His expression turned serious, almost grave.

“Gu Mengran, tell me the truth—” He stopped mid-sentence, frowned, then sighed. “Forget it. Do you have some kind of illness?”

The question hit out of nowhere. Gu Mengran’s already pale face turned sheet-white as his brain short-circuited—and completely misinterpreted the question.

Panic surged. He quickly averted his eyes and muttered defensively, “Grandpa, don’t be so old-fashioned. Experts say it’s natural to like the same gender—it’s not a disease.”

“…What?”

It was as if a thunderclap had exploded in the room.

Meng Gaoyang froze, his expression twisting from bewilderment to shock and confusion. In one sharp motion, he stood up from the bed, his eyes locking onto Gu Mengran like a hawk zeroing in on prey.

Gu Mengran blinked rapidly, his lips trembling. “W-wasn’t that what you meant?”

Meng Gaoyang: “I was asking if you have a medical condition—because you PASSED OUT from a sack of rice hitting your foot! What the hell are you talking about?! Who do you like?!”

Oh no. Oh no.

This is really happening.

Did he just accidentally come out…? To his grandpa…?!

Gu Mengran refused to face reality. He shut his eyes tight, slapped his forehead hard, and dramatically declared, “Wait, wait, Grandpa, my head feels dizzy… I should probably sleep first—”

“Get up and explain yourself.”

Before he could fake unconsciousness, Meng Gaoyang grabbed his arm and yanked him right out of bed.

There’s no escape.

Gu Mengran opened his eyes in defeat, mentally preparing himself for the worst-case scenario.

But then—his grandpa chuckled.

It wasn’t the kind of laugh that meant he was about to get disowned. No, it was nosy, gleeful… downright gossipy.

“So, who is it? Is it Liang Zhao?”

Gu Mengran froze. “Grandpa, y-you’re… not angry?”

“Angry? What’s there to be angry about? You’re young, you’ve got feelings for someone—, that’s completely normal.“

“B-but… it’s a guy.”

Meng Gaoyang frowned slightly, but not in anger—more like confusion. “So?What’s wrong with that? Men and women are both people, aren’t they?”

Then, as if this conversation wasn’t already surreal enough, he clicked his tongue. “You haven’t seen the really bizarre ones. People in other countries marry rice cookers and cell phones!” He shook his head. “Now THAT’S messed up. Or those kids marrying people fifty, sixty years older—now that, I wouldn’t allow.”

Gu Mengran’s eyes nearly popped out of his skull.

That’s it?! That’s all it took for him to accept it?!

It felt like a dream. He had never imagined his grandfather would be this open-minded.

Shock soon turned into a deep, overwhelming warmth. His shoulders loosened, and as he lowered his head, his eyes turned slightly red.

Grandpa wasn’t about to let him off the hook.

He gave Gu Mengran a light push on the shoulder and pressed on, “I asked you a question. Do you like Liang Zhao? Does he know? When did you two get together?”

Gu Mengran shook his head and refused to answer.

But Meng Gaoyang wasn’t the type to give up easily. With a gossip-hungry expression, he continued, “Come on, it’s obvious. You went through all that trouble to get him on board—not just to save him, but because you wanna woo him.”

“Cough, cough—”

Gu Mengran nearly choked on his own spit, coughing so hard his chest ached.

The emotional moment? Completely ruined.

He patted his chest, cleared his throat, then elbowed his grandpa lightly. “Enough already! There’s nothing going on. Aren’t you a little too old to be this gossipy?”

“Fine, fine.” Grandpa sighed in disappointment and settled back at the edge of the bed. “Then let’s talk about you. What actually happened? Aside from your toe, you’re not hurt anywhere else—so why’d you pass out?”

Yeah… definitely couldn’t tell the truth about that.

Without missing a beat, Gu Mengran slipped back under the covers, pulling the blanket up until it covered half his face.

“Got scared,” he mumbled, voice muffled. “And I was a little lightheaded from low blood sugar. Passed out just like that.”

“Really?” Grandpa still sounded doubtful.

“Of course!” Gu Mengran sat up slightly, trying to sound as steady as possible. “If I were really sick, I wouldn’t keep it from you. “I’m the backbone of this family now. Most of our supplies are in my hands—I can’t afford to let anything happen to me.”

“Alright then,” Grandpa nodded. “As long as it’s nothing serious. Your foot’s gonna take a few days to heal, so just stay put and rest.”

With that, Meng Gaoyang patted his leg, got up, and strolled leisurely toward the door.

“Grandpa.” Gu Mengran called out. “Where’s Liang Zhao?”

“At the helm.” Meng Gaoyang didn’t even look back. “Otherwise, how do you think I’m able to step away?”

“What about the newcomers? Aren’t they helping out?”

“Help?” Grandpa scoffed. “A bunch of retired sailors—best they can do is not make things worse.”

Gu Mengran frowned in dissatisfaction. “Then when are they leaving?”

“In three days. Once we pass the Shaozhou Lock, they’ll get off.” Grandpa smacked his lips, then turned back to warn Gu Mengran, “Quit worrying and focus on resting. Liang Zhao and I can it. Once we reach deeper waters, we’ll switch to autopilot and finally get a break.”

Gu Mengran wasn’t entirely comfortable having outsiders onboard, but hearing they’d be gone in three days put his mind at ease.

He closed his eyes and fell asleep.

***

Staying in bed all day sounded nice at first, but it quickly became unbearable.

Grandpa and Liang Zhao took turns at the helm, both too busy to spare him any attention. Meanwhile, the retired crew members holed up in their rooms playing cards all day—rarely ever showing their faces.

Gu Mengran felt like he was going to rot from boredom.

Since he had nothing better to do, he decided to make himself useful—

By taking over the kitchen as the ship’s head chef.

With his injured foot making walking a hassle, Gu Mengran was thankful for his foresight.

Without a word, he pulled an electric wheelchair from his space, zipping into the kitchen right on time for every meal, needing no one’s help.

Breakfast: Congee and steamed buns.
Lunch: Stir-fried, braised, and stewed dishes.
Dinner: Fried chicken and grilled skewers.

Every meal was different, keeping the crew stuffed and satisfied. And for Gu Mengran, it wasn’t just a way to pass time—it was a culinary crash course, and he was getting better by the day.

Three days passed in a flash.

By sunset, the Windwing had finally reached the Shaozhou Lock, merging into a long queue of ships, waiting for their turn.

It was Gu Mengran’s first time seeing a ship lock in action, and he was eager to watch the process.

The moment they lined up, he wheeled himself straight into the cockpit, peeking around like a nosy kid.

The door was wide open, letting the dense yellow fog drift in with the breeze.

The whole cabin reeked of sulfur.

The fog had thickened considerably, and visibility was rapidly declining. In just three days, he’d already received over ten “Red Alert” warnings about the worsening conditions.

Even from the best vantage point, all he could see was an endless yellow mist—he guessed visibility was no more than 30 meters.

Leaning against the glass, he squinted hard, but saw nothing.

Disappointed, he slumped back into his wheelchair, sighing, “This fog is ridiculous. I can’t even see how many ships are ahead of us. Grandpa, how long do we have to wait?”

“It’ll be a while!” Grandpa pulled up the radar, zoomed in, and clicked his tongue.

“Queue alone is four to five hours. Getting through the lock will take at least three more. We’ll be lucky to clear it by midnight.”

Meng Gaoyang shooed him away. “Go find something to do. I’ll call you when it’s time.”

With a dejected sigh, Gu Mengran spun his wheelchair around and rolled away.

Grandpa’s booming voice chased after him: “Make some braised pork tonight!”

“Got it!” Gu Mengran, now the ship’s official Head Chef, called back.

By day three, his toe was nearly healed. As long as he didn’t put too much pressure on it, walking was no problem.

But Gu Mengran still insisted on using the wheelchair.

Why?

Efficiency.

It only took five minutes by wheelchair from the cockpit to the kitchen—way faster than walking. The only downside? Getting downstairs was a pain.

Since Grandpa wanted braised pork for dinner, Gu Mengran had no choice but to grab a shopping basket and hobble down to the first-floor supermarket to grab the meat.

After three days, the fresh meat supply was running low.

Gu Mengran picked out two premium cuts of pig head meat and a pork hock, tossing them into the basket. Then, after a quick glance around to make sure no one was watching, he discreetly stashed the remaining tenderloin and pork belly into his storage space.

If you’re going to braise, might as well go big.

Anything they didn’t finish could go straight into his storage space.

With that in mind, Gu Mengran took a slow stroll through the aisles, tossing in some eggs, chicken feet, and frozen drumsticks, plus some seaweed, dried tofu sheets, braising spices, and dark soy sauce.

By the time he was done, his basket was packed to the brim.

Not gonna lie, this felt like the ultimate supermarket haul—minus the checkout line.

Half an hour later, Chef Gu was back in the kitchen, ready to get cooking.

Washing vegetables, rinsing meat, boiling water for blanching, mixing the braising broth—Gu Mengran barely had time to breathe, wishing he had a second pair of hands.

Vegetables cooked fast, but meat needed time to absorb the flavors. He tossed the blanched pig head meat and pork hock into the pot, but after a glance, it still looked a bit sparse. So, without hesitation, he fished out ten more pounds of beef from his storage space.

One pot for pork and beef, another for chicken legs, chicken feet, and eggs. He cranked the induction stove to full blast, and within an hour, the kitchen was filled with mouthwatering aromas, the air thick with rich, meaty fragrance.

The heat quickly became unbearable. Even with the AC on, the kitchen was like a sauna.

At this point, it was impossible to stay inside.

With the braised meats still simmering, Gu Mengran wiped away his sweat and stepped out of the kitchen, heading to the living room for a drink. But just as he reached the hallway—

Bam.

He ran into Liang Zhao.

Ever since Grandpa’s embarrassingly blunt remarks, Gu Mengran had been deliberately avoiding him. And with Liang Zhao pulling night shifts in the cockpit, they’d barely crossed paths these past few days.

But now—sleepy-eyed and bedheaded—Liang Zhao was coming straight at him.

Panic set in.

Gu Mengran hurriedly slid open the kitchen door, pretending he was just about to step inside.

“Gu Mengran.”

Too late.

A shadow fell over him, dimming the hallway lights as Liang Zhao blocked his way.

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