Axolotl Translations

Nearly every eye in the room followed the girl’s gesture, settling on Ruan Zhao and Gu Xingyan. Being stared at by so many people at once sent a shiver down Ruan Zhao’s spine. His hairs practically stood on end.

Instinctively, he stepped in front of Gu Xingyan, trying to shield him from the unwanted scrutiny. But Gu Xingyan was much taller than him—there was no way he could block him out completely.

“The waiter over there…” The girl gestured politely toward Gu Xingyan. “Could you bring the drink over?”

Ruan Zhao: “…” Well, it was inevitable. Was this the legendary protagonist aura? Even delivering drinks was enough to draw attention.

System: [It’s the unavoidable force of the plot.]

Ruan Zhao: […?]

[They were destined to meet today.]

Ruan Zhao: [Then why didn’t you tell me sooner?]

The system responded sheepishly. [I only just unlocked this part of the storyline. Zhaozhao, we side characters have limited screen time—our access is restricted.]

Ruan Zhao: […Well, I suppose it can’t be helped. Not your fault.]

Gu Xingyan gave Ruan Zhao a subtle nod before stepping past him, carefully balancing the tray as he approached Xiang Zhijian. Ruan Zhao lifted a hand, wanting to tug on Gu Xingyan’s sleeve. His fingers brushed the hem of the uniform before he hesitated, withdrawing his hand. This was something Gu Xingyan had to face. Even if he intervened now, the plot would simply find another way to make it happen.

Ruan Zhao’s gaze drifted through the crowd, settling on Xiang Zhijian. He watched him carefully, observing his reaction.

At first, Xiang Zhijian was oblivious to Gu Xingyan’s presence. He was engrossed in conversation, his practiced social smile perfectly in place. Until…

“Sir, your drink.”

Ruan Zhao saw it clearly—the way Xiang Zhijian’s smile faltered, the corners of his lips twitching awkwardly, freezing in a slightly comical expression. His pupils dilated, a flicker of shock and fear trembling in his eyes. He recognized Gu Xingyan.

The only question was—how much did he know? Did he realize he’d been living under a false identity? That he’d usurped another’s family, another’s place? That he was, ultimately, nothing more than an imposter?

Ruan Zhao knew he shouldn’t rush to judge Xiang Zhijian. It was entirely possible he, too, was an innocent victim of this elaborate identity swap. But still—he couldn’t suppress a surge of indignation on Gu Xingyan’s behalf.

Seeing Xiang Zhijian, impeccably dressed,standing in the center of attention, basking in admiration, Ruan Zhao couldn’t help but remember his first encounter with Gu Xingyan.

Back then, his face had been ashen, an unhealthy pallor making him appear sickly. He’d been slumped against a wall, dazed and barely conscious, as if he might collapse at any moment. His sleeves had hung loosely, revealing prominent wrist bones. Faint bluish veins were visible beneath the thin skin on the backs of his hands. His jaw was sharp, his clothes draped on his frame, his entire being so thin he seemed on the verge of vanishing.

It was only through his diligent efforts—feeding Gu Xingyan meticulously every day—that he’d finally managed to add a bit of weight to his frame. So, how could he stand by and watch someone else torment him? Ruan Zhao’s gaze was fixed on Xiang Zhijian, watching him intently, ready to pounce on the slightest hint of malice.

Xiang Zhijian quickly composed himself, masking his initial reaction. But inwardly, a storm raged within him. His hands clenched at his sides, nails digging into his palms, the pain a desperate attempt to maintain control.

It was him. It was actually him. Why was he here? Was it a coincidence? An accident? Or… had someone orchestrated this encounter? The last thought sent a tremor through Xiang Zhijian, panic threatening to overwhelm him. But almost as quickly, he dismissed the notion. The secrets of the previous generation were buried, sealed away in the graves of that couple. No one would ever find out. …No one would ever find out. He repeated the mantra silently in his mind.

Then, with practiced ease, he slipped his mask back into place, his smile almost too perfect, too deliberate. He reached out and took the glass from Gu Xingyan’s hand. The moment their fingers brushed, he let out a small, feigned gasp, as if he’d lost his grip. The glass tilted precariously toward Gu Xingyan, the drink threatening to spill all over him. But Ruan Zhao—who’d been observing the scene like a hawk—reacted instantly, intervening to block the spill.

To be precise, Ruan Zhao had used the tray in Gu Xingyan’s hands to intercept the spill. The problem was, that tray was laden with five or six glasses of red wine. Now, every single drop had splashed out, the tray itself clattering to the floor with a resounding crash. If the scene could be captured in a metaphor, it was as if Xiang Zhijian had nudged a plate of food, while Ruan Zhao had overturned the entire table.

The shattering glass echoed through the room, momentarily silencing the music. Every head turned, eyes wide with astonishment, to witness the spectacle. Because Ruan Zhao and Xiang Zhijian had been standing at the room’s center, the spilled wine drenched them both. Gu Xingyan, whom Ruan Zhao had instinctively shielded, remained untouched, not even a drop staining his sleeve.

Xiang Zhijian’s smile vanished, a dark, ominous glint replacing it in his eyes. His gaze turned glacial as he fixed it on the two before him.

Ruan Zhao blinked innocently. “Oops, my hand slipped.” The words were apologetic, but his tone and expression conveyed anything but remorse. His sharp gaze locked onto Xiang Zhijian, a silent warning: I see your little game. Don’t even think about trying another one.

Gu Xingyan gently pulled Ruan Zhao behind him, a protective gesture. “Apologies,” he said calmly. “It was my fault. I’ll take care of this—”

Before he could finish, Ruan Zhao interjected from behind him. “No, it was me. I accidentally bumped into it.”

Gu Xingyan didn’t argue. “I’ll cover the cost of the wine. I’ll take responsibility for any damages—”

Ruan Zhao clicked his tongue in annoyance. “What’s it to you? Who asked you to butt in?”

Gu Xingyan turned to look at him, his gaze sharp, almost scolding. Ruan Zhao immediately clamped his mouth shut.

Moments before, Chen Feng had sworn he wouldn’t interfere in Ruan Zhao’s affairs again, not if he wanted to be considered human. But the moment he saw the commotion, he rushed over without hesitation, inserting himself between Ruan Zhao and Xiang Zhijian with a forced, cheerful grin, attempting to defuse the situation.

“No big deal, no big deal! Broken glass means good luck—peace and prosperity for the years to come!” His words seemed carefully chosen, subtly easing the tension.

The surrounding crowd quickly coalesced around Xiang Zhijian, a flurry of concerned voices asking if he was alright. Xiang Zhijian’s expression was strained, but he forced a smile, attempting to project an air of composure. “It’s just spilled wine. No big deal—I’ll simply change.” After all, he was the one who’d fumbled the glass, causing the entire mess. He couldn’t very well lash out in front of everyone, so he had no choice but to swallow his frustration.

Ruan Zhao, however, couldn’t care less whether Xiang Zhijian was genuinely unconcerned or simply putting on a brave face. His own clothes were saturated with red wine, the potent aroma of alcohol clinging to his skin, making his head swim and his face burn. Without a word, he grasped Gu Xingyan’s hand and stalked away.

And just like that, the one soaked in wine departed without a backward glance—taking Gu Xingyan with him.

Xiang Zhijian was used to being flattered—when had he ever encountered such blatant disrespect? His expression darkened as he picked up an untouched glass of juice from the bar, using it to shield his face.

“Xiang Chen.” His voice was cold. “That boy just now—is he your classmate?”

Xiang Chen knew his cousin well enough to recognize trouble brewing. The barely contained fury in Xiang Zhijian’s eyes, the sharp set of his jaw—these were telltale signs of an impending, unpleasant scheme. A troubled expression crossed Xiang Chen’s face. Reluctantly, he leaned in, lowering his voice in warning. “He’s from the Ruan family.”

Xiang Zhijian repeated the name. “Ruan family?”

“Their company made its fortune in pharmaceuticals and medical equipment. They’re doing quite well,” Xiang Chen said, pausing briefly before continuing—this next part was clearly the most crucial. “They’ve also maintained strong ties with the local government for years.”

Xiang Zhijian’s grip tightened around his glass, his fingers pressing so hard the glass creaked.

“That kid is young—he doesn’t know any better. And his family spoils him rotten,” Xiang Chen offered cautiously. “Cousin, maybe you should just let this slide. I mean… it’s not like you actually lost anything, right?” Seeing the storm cloud gathering on Xiang Zhijian’s face, Xiang Chen wisely swallowed the rest of his sentence.

……

Outside the private room, Ruan Zhao went straight to the counter, settling the bill for the spilled drinks. He walked briskly, forcing Chen Feng to jog to keep up.

“Damn, you really don’t hold back, do you? A whole tray of drinks, just dumped like that? Do you even realize who you just drenched?”

Ruan Zhao glanced at him, his tone indifferent. “Xiang Zhijian.”

“So you do know! And you still had the nerve to offend him?”

Ruan Zhao shrugged. “He provoked me first.”

Chen Feng scoffed. “Wow, look at you. So noble, so righteous, always standing up for justice—what a hero, rescuing the damsel in distress… Pfft.” Gu Xingyan was taller than Ruan Zhao. Stronger, too. If anyone was the “damsel” in this scenario, it certainly wasn’t him.

Ruan Zhao simply took it as a compliment. His eyes curved into a smile, flashing Chen Feng a bright, dazzling grin.

Chen Feng: “……” Seriously? Now of all times, and you’re still smiling? What the hell has Gu Xingyan done to you? What kind of spell has he cast to make you so eager to defend him?!

Chen Feng scrutinized Gu Xingyan. The tall young man was bent slightly at the waist, carefully dabbing at the wine stains on Ruan Zhao’s clothes with a soft handkerchief. When he was done, he pulled out a wet wipe and gently cleaned Ruan Zhao’s sticky, wine-coated fingers. Ruan Zhao obediently splayed his hand, his long lashes lowered as he allowed Gu Xingyan to clean each finger without protest.

There was an unspoken intimacy between them, a quiet, natural closeness that made it feel like no one else existed. Chen Feng felt like a damn third wheel. Utterly irrelevant. His eyelid twitched. He had no desire to intrude on whatever was happening between them.

But then Ruan Zhao’s voice, soft and slightly slurred, drifted towards him. “Chen Feng…”

“Thank you.”

His face was flushed, clearly drunk. Just two simple words, yet they were spoken slowly, hesitantly, the final note curving upwards in a delicate lilt. His beautiful eyes shimmered, like tiny stars flickering within, bright enough to burn.

Chen Feng felt like he’d just been played. Faced with a Ruan Zhao like this, all his irritation evaporated. His tone softened, adopting the indulgent patience of a parent excusing their child’s misbehavior—as if the child could do no wrong, even when they clearly had.

“Fine, fine. It’s not like you did anything that bad. You just drenched the guy in wine, and you did apologize…” Though, honestly, that apology of yours was anything but sincere. More like a pointed challenge. But still, whatever. “Even if he wants to make a big deal out of it, he’s got no excuse.”

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