Axolotl Translations

“Was he some kind of randomly spawning NPC? How did he keep running into him no matter where he went?!

Gu Xingyan seemed equally surprised to see Ruan Zhao there. He glanced into the private room, taking in the flashing lights, the cluster of guys and girls, and the small mountain of empty glasses on the bar. His brows furrowed slightly, a hint of coldness in his voice.

“What are you doing here?”

Ruan Zhao hadn’t even had a chance to ask him the same question before it was thrown at him. He paused, then answered, “Birthday party.”

For a fleeting moment, Gu Xingyan’s expression softened, only to harden again immediately. He stepped closer, his dark eyes fixed on Ruan Zhao, his lips pressed into a thin line.

“Have you been drinking?”

What was he, some kind of bloodhound? How had he sniffed that out? Two questions in quick succession put Ruan Zhao on the defensive. Perhaps it was Gu Xingyan’s easy confidence, his air of authority, that made Ruan Zhao instinctively play along, as if he owed him an explanation.

“I only had a lit—” he began, then stopped abruptly, a realization dawning. Who was Gu Xingyan to him? He didn’t owe him a damn thing. Like some little watchdog acting like it owned the place, forgetting its own station.

“Yeah, I drank. A whole big glass,” Ruan Zhao declared, utterly self-assured. “Might even go back for another.”

The scent of alcohol on him was faint—a mere trace, mingled with a light, fruity aroma. It seemed more like something he’d absorbed from the air than from actual drinking. But Gu Xingyan hadn’t needed to rely on scent to know he’d been drinking. Ruan Zhao was blissfully unaware of how obvious he was. His skin, pale and delicate, betrayed him with the faintest blush. It started as a whisper of pink on his cheeks and the corners of his eyes, then deepened, blooming into a rich, intoxicating red.

Gu Xingyan’s gaze darkened. Without a word, he grasped Ruan Zhao’s arm and pulled him from the room. Ruan Zhao thought briefly of resisting, but then he remembered—inside that private room was the so-called “young master” who had usurped Gu Xingyan’s position. This was likely not the moment for them to meet. So, he offered no resistance, allowing Gu Xingyan to lead him away without a word.

“You’re drunk,” Gu Xingyan stated flatly.

“I only had a tiny bit,” Ruan Zhao protested, holding up two fingers to illustrate the size of his glass. “How could I possibly be drunk?”

First, he claimed he’d downed a whole big glass of alcohol. Now, he was saying he’d barely had any. Clearly, his head was already muddled, and he had no idea what he was saying.

Gu Xingyan didn’t argue with him over this. “Wait for me here.” He placed a hand on Ruan Zhao’s forehead. His fingertips registered a faint warmth—too warm. A deeper shadow crossed his eyes. “Stay put. Don’t go anywhere.”

His palm was cool against Ruan Zhao’s skin, a soothing contrast to the heat in his face. When he pulled his hand away, Ruan Zhao instinctively leaned forward, like a cat reaching for a dangling toy—as if reluctant to let him go. Realizing his own impulsiveness, Ruan Zhao froze, his expression stiffening a beat too late. Clearing his throat, he feigned nonchalance. “What about you?” His gaze flickered towards the drinks cart. He blinked. “Delivering those inside?”

The thought of the imposter within—the so-called young master, surrounded by people—brought a frown to Ruan Zhao’s face. He didn’t particularly want Gu Xingyan to see him. Even though he knew Gu Xingyan was still unaware of his true identity… still…

Ruan Zhao’s eyes lingered on Gu Xingyan. He was dressed in the standard bar uniform—a crisp white shirt beneath a black vest, a pale gray bow tie at his collar. Xiang Zhijian, on the other hand, wore limited-edition designer clothes—custom-made, unattainable even for those with money. Gu Xingyan, meanwhile, had to work weekends at a bar just to make ends meet. Whether at school or elsewhere, he was always alone.

Xiang Zhijian didn’t have to lift a finger. Just by standing there, he became the center of attention. The stark contrast tightened something in Ruan Zhao’s chest—a stifling, uncomfortable feeling.

“How about you wait here? I’ll take the drinks in for you.” Ruan Zhao reached for Gu Xingyan’s cart, trying to relieve him of it. But Gu Xingyan stopped him, concerned that in his slightly muddled state, Ruan Zhao might spill the drinks or cut himself. They stood there, locked in a silent tug-of-war, for too long.

Chen Feng, sensing something amiss, approached. He grasped Ruan Zhao’s shoulders and pulled him close. “What are you doing out here chatting with a waiter so long? We’re playing a game inside—just waiting on you.” Then, from the corner of his eye, Chen Feng caught sight of something. His words faltered. He turned his head and looked at Gu Xingyan.

“Oh, it’s you,” he said, a mocking smirk twisting his lips. His voice dripped with sarcasm. “I was wondering why Ruan Zhao was taking so long… Turns out, you were the one detaining him.” His eyes narrowed, raking Gu Xingyan up and down. Seeing the uniform, a flicker of surprise, quickly masked, crossed his face. “You work here?”

Gu Xingyan’s gaze dropped to Chen Feng’s hand on Ruan Zhao’s shoulder. In the dim light, his expression was unreadable. Chen Feng flinched suddenly, his hand twitching as if stung.

Noticing Gu Xingyan’s shadowed gaze, Chen Feng instantly understood. He pulled Ruan Zhao closer, deliberately trying to provoke a reaction. But Ruan Zhao clearly wasn’t interested in playing along. He shrugged Chen Feng’s arm off with an annoyed frown, grumbling, “Why are you clinging to me? It’s too hot.”

Chen Feng: “…” No cooperation whatsoever.

Changing tactics, he grabbed Ruan Zhao’s wrist, attempting to flaunt their supposed intimacy in front of Gu Xingyan. If it deterred Gu Xingyan, made him back off and abandon any designs he might have on Ruan Zhao, all the better. But again, Ruan Zhao shook him off without hesitation. His expression turned serious as he enunciated each word, “I. Said. Don’t. Touch. Me.”

Chen Feng: “…” Fine, fine, whatever. Next time I interfere in your affairs, call me a dog.

…

Thanks to Chen Feng’s meddling, Gu Xingyan ended up taking the drinks inside after all. Ruan Zhao trailed him the entire way, whispering urgent reminders. “Just put them down and leave. Hurry.”

Gu Xingyan turned, glancing at the persistent little shadow following him. He lowered his voice to match Ruan Zhao’s. “Then… are you leaving with me?”

Ruan Zhao was momentarily stunned. The alcohol had slowed his reactions, and a thin film glazed his eyes, shimmering in the dazzling lights.

“What am I supposed to do with you? Just stand around watching you work…?” He lowered his head, considering the question. Staying here, playing pointless games with strangers, seemed no better than being with Gu Xingyan. He completely overlooked the third option—simply leaving and going home.

“Well, I suppose it’s not the worst idea. When do you get off? If it’s too late, I’m not waiting.”

“Nine.”

“That’s late… still half an hour.” Ruan Zhao weighed his options before reluctantly agreeing. “Fine. But hurry up.”

The private room was a mess. Most people were clustered around the spinning wheel, caught up in the excitement of the game. Their quiet exchange went unnoticed in the surrounding din.

As soon as Gu Xingyan set the drinks down, a ripple of commotion spread from the table. The wheel had landed on Xiang Zhijian, who now had to choose between Truth or Dare. After a brief hesitation, he chose Dare. The person assigning the challenge, was a girl—too shy to suggest anything outrageous. Her gaze darted around the room until it landed on Gu Xingyan, who had just finished delivering the drinks. A spark ignited in her eyes as she settled on the most conventional dare.

“Um… then… just drink a whole glass of alcohol.”

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