Axolotl Translations

By the time Zuo Zhou returned with Shangguan Yu, X-ray in hand, for Dr. Zhong Pei’s follow-up, it was almost noon.

Dr. Zhong carefully examined the film, then pointed to a specific spot. “See this?” he said. “The fracture’s right here. Just a small crack. Young people have excellent bone resilience, so recovery should be swift. Don’t worry; it’s nothing serious overall.”

Hearing this, a weight lifted from Shangguan Yu’s chest.

Standing beside him, Zuo Zhou gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze and whispered, “Don’t worry about me.”

As Zuo Zhou’s arm was already in a cast, there were no further or better treatment options. Dr. Zhong simply advised him to continue wearing the cast and sling, rest as much as possible, and support his recovery with a nutritious diet to promote healing.

“Thank you, Dr. Zhong,” Zuo Zhou said. “We’ll be going now.”

“Wait!” Dr. Zhong called after them, turning to Shangguan Yu. “It’s been a while. How about we have lunch together?”

Shangguan Yu hesitated.

Sensing his hesitation, Dr. Zhong quickly added, “When you transferred to that hospital abroad, you left so abruptly that we never had a chance to eat together. I was your attending physician for quite some time—surely you won’t refuse?”

At that point, declining would seem too distant, even discourteous. So, Shangguan Yu nodded.

“Alright. Any recommendations nearby? My treat, Dr. Zhong.”

Dr. Zhong Pei, pleased with himself, grinned, revealing a set of perfectly white teeth. “No need to trouble yourself. Let’s just eat at the hospital cafeteria—it’s perfectly fine.”

Shangguan Yu readily agreed, but behind him, Zuo Zhou frowned and immediately objected, “The cafeteria is too crowded.”

Dr. Zhong was momentarily surprised. He hadn’t anticipated any resistance, especially after Shangguan Yu’s ready acceptance. After a brief pause, he simply chuckled. “No problem. I’ll reserve a private room—just the three of us.”

With no further reason to decline, the three of them followed Dr. Zhong toward the cafeteria.

Dr. Zhong removed his white coat and donned a camel-colored overcoat, strolling ahead with a relaxed air. He chatted animatedly with Shangguan Yu, who responded politely, occasionally mentioning old acquaintances from the hospital and even asking a question or two.

Trailing behind them, Zuo Zhou wore a distinct scowl. Out of their sight, his expressions shifted—when he looked at Shangguan Yu, his face was filled with a sense of grievance; when he looked at Dr. Zhong, it was pure resentment.

As expected, the cafeteria was packed. It was lunchtime, and every table was occupied by patients and their families. Some were hurriedly collecting meals for their loved ones, many still wearing hospital gowns. A few, like Shangguan Yu, were in wheelchairs, being pushed along by their caregivers.

When the three of them arrived at the cafeteria, they blended in seamlessly, unlike the attention they would have drawn in a typical restaurant.

This gave Shangguan Yu a quiet sense of relief.

Dr. Zhong Pei made a brief phone call, and moments later, a cafeteria staff member hurried to the entrance to greet them warmly.

“Ah, Director Zhong! The private room you requested is ready. Please, this way!”

The portly staff member led them to a private dining room tucked away in a corner of the first floor. It was spacious, featuring a large table that could comfortably seat sixteen. The decor was simple, but it was at least clean.

Wringing his hands together with an apologetic smile, the staff member explained, “Sorry, Director Zhong. This is the only private room available on the first floor—it’s rather large. The smaller ones are all upstairs.”

“That’s perfectly fine,” Zhong Pei replied with a relaxed smile. He gave the staff member’s shoulder a friendly pat. “Brother Lin, we’ll leave it to you. Just bring us whatever looks good today.”

“Certainly!” The man, called Lin, then turned to Shangguan Yu and Zuo Zhou. “Do either of you have any dietary restrictions?”

“No,” Shangguan Yu replied, shaking his head.

“I don’t eat spicy or sour food,” Zuo Zhou said with a polite smile. “No lamb, no bony fish. For vegetables, I prefer to avoid oil wheat and overly mature spinach. Otherwise, I’m happy with anything.”

Brother Lin nodded, noted their preferences, and departed. Zhong Pei then gestured for them to sit.

Shangguan Yu glanced at Zuo Zhou, a hint of confusion in his eyes. At home, he seemed to eat everything without issue…

Zhong Pei poured each of them a cup of hot water. Then, with a warm smile, he turned his attention to Shangguan Yu, who was seated between them. “So, what happened after you went abroad?”

“…”

Though reluctant to revisit the past, Shangguan Yu maintained his composure and politely summarized the primary treatments he had undergone in New Zealand.

“Central nervous system therapy?” Zhong Pei looked mildly surprised. “And after completing the therapy, you still have no sensation in your legs?”

“That’s correct,” Shangguan Yu replied calmly.

Zhong Pei fell silent.

Zuo Zhou listened attentively. While he didn’t fully grasp the medical specifics, he could tell from their expressions that this treatment had been the most promising option for Shangguan Yu’s condition.

And yet, it had been ineffective. That could only mean there was no hope for recovery.

Perhaps realizing he had broached a sensitive subject, Zhong Pei changed the topic. He began reminiscing about amusing anecdotes from Shangguan Yu’s time at the hospital, as well as sharing some of his own experiences studying in New Zealand.

As neither topic touched on anything sensitive, and both were subjects Shangguan Yu was familiar with, the atmosphere in the private dining room quickly became lighthearted and relaxed.

Though Zuo Zhou didn’t actively participate in the conversation, he didn’t mind. That period had been the time he was most distant from Shangguan Yu—he knew almost nothing about what had happened to him then. Yet, he desperately craved every detail.

So, he simply sat beside them, listening intently, not wanting to miss a single word Shangguan Yu uttered.

The food arrived promptly, and the meal progressed smoothly. However, Shangguan Yu found the frequency with which Zuo Zhou and Zhong Pei piled food onto his plate somewhat…excessive.

Zuo Zhou’s actions were understandable. After all, they lived together, so he knew Shangguan Yu’s preferences. A little extra was fine.

But Zhong Pei—he kept giving him the meat from the stir-fried cauliflower and the eggs from the pepper-and-egg dish, making eating feel like a bit of a chore.

After the meal, Shangguan Yu prepared to leave. As Zhong Pei escorted them to the hospital entrance, he suddenly retrieved his phone and suggested they exchange contact information.

Shangguan Yu didn’t anticipate returning to the hospital anytime soon, but considering how much Zhong Pei had looked out for him in the past, he took out his phone and exchanged numbers, also adding him on WeChat.

“We’ll be going now,” Shangguan Yu said. “Thank you, Dr. Zhong.”

Zhong Pei waved a dismissive hand. “No need to be so formal. Take care on your way back. Oh, by the way, I’m currently a visiting professor at Luocheng University’s medical school, and I’ve organized a support group for patients. We hold the meetings on campus. I’ll invite you to the next one.”

“…”

Shangguan Yu instinctively recoiled at the suggestion. “We’ll see.”

“These support groups can be truly beneficial for people in your situation,” Zhong Pei continued patiently. “They help with social reintegration, PTSD, and self-acceptance. You should seriously consider attending. Avoidance won’t change anything. The best way forward is to confront the pain directly.”

Shangguan Yu lowered his gaze, at a loss for words. He felt as though Zhong Pei had exposed his deepest vulnerabilities, dragging them into the light for everyone to see. And he wasn’t nearly strong enough to simply dismiss it.

Just as he was struggling to formulate a response, a voice rang out above him—lighthearted yet firm.

“Thank you for the kind invitation, Dr. Zhong. My brother will give it serious consideration when he gets home. We’ll be going now, so no need to see us off.”

With that, Zuo Zhou offered Zhong Pei a polite smile, then, before the doctor could reply, gave a quick wave and began pushing Shangguan Yu away.

They walked all the way to the main road in front of the hospital before Zuo Zhou finally stopped. He crouched slightly, studying Shangguan Yu’s expression.

“Brother Yu, shall we walk back or call a car?”

“Let’s call a car.”

“Alright.”

Arriving at the entrance of the Xingfu Jun residential complex, Zuo Zhou helped Shangguan Yu out of the car and ensured he was comfortably seated in his wheelchair before smoothly pushing him inside.

Shangguan Yu glanced back at Zuo Zhou but remained silent, turning his gaze forward again.

“Hmm?” Zuo Zhou noticed his movement and paused. “What’s wrong, Brother Yu?”

“…Nothing.”

“No way, something’s definitely bothering you.” Zuo Zhou considered for a moment, then sniffed dramatically, adopting a pitiful expression. “Don’t worry, I’ll get you home safely and leave right after. I won’t overstay my welcome.”

“…That’s not what I meant.”

“Really? Then what did you mean?”

“Let’s just go home first.”

“Oh.”

Once inside, Shangguan Yu offered Zuo Zhou a pair of slippers before they went to the sofa together.

Zuo Zhou appeared preoccupied, his expression subdued, as if he had suffered a great injustice. Sitting upright on the sofa with his arms crossed, he fixed Shangguan Yu with large, mournful eyes.

Shangguan Yu felt a strange unease under the intensity of that gaze and couldn’t help but say, “Don’t look at me like that. I’m not going to do anything to you.”

Zuo Zhou opened his mouth as if to speak, then hesitated.

“…What is it?”

“I’m sorry. It’s my fault for getting injured and causing you trouble, Brother Yu,” Zuo Zhou mumbled, rubbing his nose. He then stood up from the sofa. “I’ll check if anything needs restocking in the kitchen. Once I’m finished, I’ll leave. I won’t stay and make you uncomfortable any longer.”

As he spoke, he gave Shangguan Yu a slight bow before turning toward the kitchen.

“…”

Shangguan Yu was speechless. How did Zuo Zhou’s thoughts even work? That wasn’t what he meant at all!

Just as Zuo Zhou was about to walk away, Shangguan Yu’s body moved quicker than his mind—his hand reached out and grasped the hem of Zuo Zhou’s shirt.

Zuo Zhou froze.

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