Axolotl Translations

Heavy, measured footsteps halted beside them.

Ruan Zhao and Chen Feng both looked up.

It was Gu Xingyan, returning with the water.

His expression remained as unreadable as ever, leaving it impossible to discern if he had overheard their conversation. Long bangs shadowed his eyes, obscuring his gaze as they always did.

He set the cup on the desk and slid it across to Ruan Zhao. “Your water.”

Ruan Zhao dipped a finger into the liquid, testing its temperature, and immediately found cause for complaint. “I asked for cold water.” Without hesitation, Gu Xingyan retrieved the cup. His voice was calm, devoid of any inflection. “I’ll go change it.”

Ruan Zhao pressed his lips together, suddenly remembering they were supposed to be in the middle of a cold war. He wasn’t supposed to be speaking to him at all.

Gu Xingyan turned and left again, cup in hand.

Chen Feng watched him go, then let out a low, exaggerated whistle. “Since when does he listen to you so well?”

“Just classmates, helping each other out.”

“Helping each other out?” Chen Feng echoed, a mocking lilt in his voice. “I’m your classmate too—how come you never fetch me water?”

Ruan Zhao: “Because I’m lazy.” He declared it with utter confidence.

Chen Feng: “…Fair enough.”

Chen Feng still felt like something was off.

He tried to imagine himself in Gu Xingyan’s position. If Ruan Zhao asked him to fetch water, he would probably do it. But if Ruan Zhao began to quibble about the temperature, making him return repeatedly to exchange it…? Absolutely not. He would not possess the patience to silently comply as Gu Xingyan just had.

Wait a moment—why was Gu Xingyan so obedient? Why fulfill Ruan Zhao’s requests so readily, and without a murmur of complaint?

…Could he still have some kind of ulterior motive?

The thought left a bad taste in Chen Feng’s mouth; suddenly, even the candy he had been enjoying seemed to lose its sweetness.

“Ruan Zhao…”

“Hm?”

Chen Feng’s expression hardened. “Think carefully about what I just said.”

Ruan Zhao thought back to their conversation and softly repeated, “You mean… stay away from him?”

As the words left his lips, a shadow fell across him.

Gu Xingyan had returned.

He positioned himself firmly between them, severing their line of sight and effectively cornering Chen Feng.

He held out the cup to Ruan Zhao. “Your cold water.”

It was indeed chilled.

There were even ice cubes floating inside—he must have made a special trip to the first-floor lobby to obtain them.

This time, Ruan Zhao offered no complaint.

He cradled the cup, remaining silent.

Gu Xingyan glanced at him. “Aren’t you going to drink it?”

Ruan Zhao glanced at him. After running up and down like that, it probably hadn’t been easy. Out of courtesy, he took a sip of the water.

Behind Gu Xingyan, who remained a steadfast barrier to his view, Chen Feng peered out—only to witness this very scene unfolding.

Instantly, his brows knitted together. Something was wrong.

Gu Xingyan’s ready obedience to Ruan Zhao was one thing. But why was Ruan Zhao listening to him too?

Gu Xingyan instructed him to drink, and he had simply done so?

“No need for further deliberation. We’re swapping seats now.” Chen Feng crouched down and, without a moment’s hesitation, began gathering Ruan Zhao’s belongings—nestling scattered books, papers, and pens into his bag. “The seat beside me is free. You can move there for now.”

Ruan Zhao blinked, taken aback as his backpack was suddenly snatched away. “Hey—wait! Put my bag down! I never agreed to this!”

The instant Gu Xingyan registered those words, he snatched the backpack back. “Didn’t you hear him? He said he doesn’t agree.”

Chen Feng reclaimed it just as swiftly, retorting, “This is between him and me. What does it have to do with you?”

Gu Xingyan retrieved it once more.

“Even if you are his friend, you don’t get to make decisions for him.”

Chen Feng seized it back again.

“And I told you, it’s none of your business! Why are you shoving yourself into this like some outsider?”

…

Ruan Zhao’s backpack shuttled between Gu Xingyan’s grasp and Chen Feng’s, yet somehow, never made it back to his own hands.

His eyes flickered back and forth, struggling to follow the frantic exchange. A sudden sense of foreboding crept up on him, an unwelcome certainty that something bad was about to happen.

“Don’t—” Don’t fight over it.

Before he could even voice the plea, his premonition solidified into reality.

Right before his eyes, the strap of his backpack gave a sharp snap under their tug-of-war—severing cleanly in two. Its contents cascaded onto the floor with a resounding clatter.

Silence descended.

Utter, profound silence.

No one had expected Ruan Zhao’s backpack strap to be that fragile. A few forceful pulls, and it had simply…given way.

Chen Feng scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, his gaze shifting evasively. “Uh… I didn’t intend for that to happen.”

Gu Xingyan offered a murmured, “Sorry.”

Then, without another word, he crouched and began to gather the scattered belongings. Meanwhile, Chen Feng merely stood there, rooted to the spot—completely useless in comparison.

Back at his desk, Chen Feng grew more frustrated the more he thought about it. He felt as though he had utterly bungled the entire affair, allowing Gu Xingyan to exploit the situation without even putting up a proper fight.

Annoyed with himself, he kicked his desk, a curse escaping his lips. Oh, so now you’re the considerate one? The responsible one? The innocent one?

After voicing a few more muttered grievances, his irritation finally began to dissipate. Then, realization struck him—he hadn’t even approached Ruan Zhao to discuss switching seats in the first place. There was something else he had intended to say.

Retrieving his phone, he sent a message.

First, he inserted two apologetic emojis.

Ruan Zhao left him on read.

[I swear it wasn’t intentional, dude. My bad.]

[? Since when am I your dude?]

Chen Feng, ever adaptable, immediately shifted his approach.

[Fine, fine, you’re my bro.]

[Bro, how about this—after school, I’ll head straight to the mall and buy you the exact same bag. Just don’t hold it against me, okay?]

Ruan Zhao: [.]

[No need.]

Moments later, another message appeared.

[I’m not upset.]

Chen Feng exhaled a sigh of relief.

[Anyway, this Saturday night—Xiang Chen’s birthday party. You coming?]

Ruan Zhao: […Xiang Chen?]

[From the class next door. We’ve gamed together before.]

Seeing that Ruan Zhao still wasn’t making the connection, Chen Feng gave him a bit more context.

[The one who played Xiao Qiao and went 0-10. You got so frustrated you quit mid-game.]

Ruan Zhao: [Oh…]

Lately, Chen Feng had been pressing Ruan Zhao to game with him almost daily. But as for who else was on the team? He rarely paid it any mind, remaining oblivious to their skill—or lack thereof.

As for why he suddenly stopped gaming altogether, it was probably because their usual playtime started overlapping with Gu Xingyan’s nightly storytelling sessions.

[Xiang Chen says the more, the merrier,] Chen Feng texted. [We invited a ton of people from both our class and the one next door. Come join us—it’ll be fun.]

Ruan Chao wasn’t really in the mood for a big gathering.

He was just about to type out a polite refusal when the system abruptly chimed within his mind.

[Zhaozhao! Zhaozhao! I just remembered who Xiang Chen is!]

[I’ve just reviewed the records—turns out, Xiang Chen has a distant cousin. And guess who it is? You’ll never believe it!]

The system was clearly trying to be dramatic. Playing along, Ruan Zhao indulged its theatrics. [Oh? Who?]

[It’s none other than the fake young master who swapped identities with Gu Xingyan—Xiang Zhijian!]

A fake young master?

Ruan Chao’s fingers paused over his keyboard.

That person? Seriously?

Instinctively, he turned his head to cast a glance at the true young master.

Probably because he’d been up working until three in the morning once more, Gu Xingyan had barely slept the night before. Now, he was deeply asleep, slumped over his desk. His face was buried in his arms, only the top of his dark hair visible.

[Xiang Chen’s birthday party… There’s a good chance Xiang Zhijian will be there too,] the system mused. [So, Zhaozhao, are you going?]

Ruan Zhao was indeed a little curious about the so-called fake young master.

[Got nothing better to do anyway. Might as well check it out.]

He responded to Chen Feng’s message.

[What time on Saturday night? I’ll come.]

Chen Feng was elated. [Six o’clock! I’ll come get you, and we’ll go together.]

Sunday arrived in the blink of an eye.

Ruan Zhao and Chen Feng made their way to Xiang Chen’s birthday party, which was being held in the VIP room of a bar. The place was packed—and loud.

After handing over his gift to Xiang Chen, Ruan Zhao deliberately chose a quiet, unnoticed corner to avoid socializing.

The flashing lights hurt his eyes, and the pounding music made his ears ring. He hadn’t even been here that long, and he was already regretting coming. But he hadn’t seen the person he came to see yet. So, leaving wasn’t an option. To kill time, he started glancing around.

The bar counter was lined with an array of colorful drinks, garnished with lemon slices and sprigs of mint. The different layers of colors made them look almost too pretty to drink.

Seeing where his attention had wandered, the system helpfully chimed in: [The one on the far right is orange soda—completely alcohol-free. You can drink it with no worries!]

Ruan Chao obediently picked up the orange soda. Then, after a moment’s thought, he put it back down. He was in a bar, after all. Wouldn’t it be lame to not drink at least something? Like he was some well-behaved kid who actually followed the rules?

He deliberately picked a glass filled with an ice-blue, fizzy liquid.

The system scanned its ingredients, confirming that the alcohol content was low. Since it wouldn’t do much harm, it didn’t bother ruining Ruan Chao’s fun.

Ruan Chao took a small, cautious sip. It was cool and refreshing, a mix of sweet and slightly bitter.

Just then, the door swung open.

For a brief moment, the noisy room fell silent, and all eyes turned toward the newcomer.

[It’s Xiang Zhijian! He actually came!] the system exclaimed.

The fake young master? Ruan Chao lifted his gaze.

His looks were decent—his features were all in the right places, nose where it should be, eyes where they belonged. The only thing that stood out was his complexion: strikingly pale.

It was the kind of fair skin that came from a lifetime of privilege, untouched by hardship.

Gu Xingyan’s skin was also pale, but in a different way—his was almost sickly, like he was perpetually anemic. His hands, rough and calloused, bore the marks of years of physical labor.

Honestly, there was no comparison.

Even wearing a bloodstained, secondhand school uniform, Gu Xingyan was easily a hundred times more attractive. Losing interest, Ruan Zhao looked away. For some reason, he even felt a little annoyed.

Inside the room, a crowd quickly gathered around Xiang Zhijian, treating him like the center of the universe. Everyone was eager to greet him, to get on his good side—almost as if he were the real star of this party.

Xiang Chen was especially attentive to Xiang Zhijian—fetching his coat, handing him drinks, introducing him to his classmates and friends. He was practically falling over himself to please him…

As if the man standing before him wasn’t just a distant cousin, but someone who could decide his entire fate with the flick of a finger. And, honestly, that wasn’t entirely wrong.

With a family as powerful as the Xiangs, even the tiniest crumbs of their wealth and influence could serve as a massive boost to a business or an entire family.

Which made it all the more ridiculous—how could a family like this allow something as absurd as a nanny swapping their children to go unnoticed?

This whole world felt like one big, low-budget production.

…

Ruan Zhao sat alone in his quiet corner, sipping away at the ice-blue drink until more than half of it was gone.

With everyone focused on Xiang Zhijian, it was the perfect time to slip away. Moving quietly, he made his way to the door. His fingers curled around the door handle, turning it as quietly as possible.

Just as he pulled it open, he came face to face with someone outside—someone who had been about to knock but stopped short, balancing a tray of drinks instead.

“Good evening, this is the order you—”

Their eyes met.

Both of them froze, their gazes widening in mutual surprise.

“…Gu Xingyan?”

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