Axolotl Translations

“Pfft.”

A quiet chuckle broke the silence, echoing through the living room.

No one spoke.

The laughter gradually faded, and Zheng Yijie patted his chest, exhaling a warm breath. “Wait, wait—so you guys are younger than me, right? Do you not go online?”

Go online? Gu Mengran had a vague idea of where this was going. His eyebrow arched slightly.

Liang Zhao remained stone-faced, and Gu Mengran stayed silent.

Zheng Yijie, thinking they had misunderstood, quickly waved his hands to explain. “No, no, I’m not mocking you! It’s just that… back when the yellow fog first appeared, the internet was going crazy over it. Everyone was freaking out. Saying things like Blue Planet is doomed and the world is ending—you really didn’t see any of that?”

Gu Mengran nodded thoughtfully. “I heard some of it. But the yellow fog only started appearing a few months ago. You believed it that quickly? And even went through all this effort to prepare?”

“Ha. You must not read web novels.” Zheng Yijie adjusted his black-framed glasses, the corners of his mouth curling into a knowing smirk. “In web novels, people like you—the ones who don’t believe anything, who always think they’re smarter than everyone else—yeah, they die first. Cannon fodder. Every time.”

“Ever heard of Mop Forum? There were a ton of posts there analyzing everything. One user even nailed it—said the yellow fog came from volcanic eruptions and underground fissures. They kept warning that a catastrophe was coming. And guess what? He was right.”

“The yellow fog is way too weird. I don’t know much about geology or astronomy, but I do know how to listen. So after piecing everything together, I figured: better safe than sorry. That’s why I stocked up.”

“Of course, the most important reason…” Zheng Yijie paused for a few seconds. Seeing that neither of them showed any impatience, he continued, “I’m a doomsday believer. I’ve always believed the end of the world would come sooner or later. I dreaded it, but at the same time, I was kind of looking forward to it. So I made some preparations in advance.”

“For example—this house. I bought it second-hand five years ago. The moment I saw this basement, I put down the deposit on the spot. My plan was simple—renovate the place, stock up on supplies, and when the apocalypse hit, I’d just hole up inside. Survive for eight, maybe ten years—easy.”

“I just… thought it’d be a zombie outbreak. Didn’t expect it’d be volcanoes, earthquakes, and cracks in the earth instead. Lucky for me, this house is sturdy enough. If it had collapsed during the quake, my corpse would be rotting by now.”

It seemed like Zheng Yijie hadn’t talked to anyone in a while—once he got going, there was no stopping him. He kept going on and on, completely absorbed in his own story.

Gu Mengran listened attentively, but his focus had already drifted elsewhere. Zheng Yijie looked like he was only twenty-five or twenty-six. Five years ago, that meant he had barely been in his early twenties. And yet, he had already bought a house?

Gu Mengran tried to hold it in. He really did.

But he couldn’t help himself. Casually, as if it was just an offhand remark, he asked, “So… what about your family? You didn’t bring them to stay with you?”

Zheng Yijie shrugged. “No parents, no attachments.”

“…Sorry.” Gu Mengran lowered his gaze, offering a quiet apology.

But Zheng Yijie didn’t seem to care in the slightest. He grinned like it was no big deal. “No worries. Better than being buried under rubble. And besides—” He smirked. “Now I get to show off. I bought this house at twenty. Paid in full. Didn’t rely on anyone.”

He handled the awkward moment so smoothly that Gu Mengran instinctively played along, throwing in some emotional value. “Respect,” he said with a nod. “People really are built different, huh? You bought a house at twenty. I was still asking my parents for allowance at nineteen.”

That line hit the sweet spot. Zheng Yijie grinned ear to ear and reached out to clap Gu Mengran on the shoulder.

But before his hand could land—barely an inch away—Liang Zhao let out a soft cough and cut straight to the point. “You have water, electricity, and supplies. The temperature in the basement is still manageable. Since you’re so well-prepared, why are you leaving? Why go with us instead of staying here?”

Liang Zhao rarely spoke, but when he did, he always went straight for the key issue. Gu Mengran was momentarily stunned.

Then, just like that, the lighthearted mood disappeared.

Now that he thought about it, it was strange. From everything Zheng Yijie had said, it was obvious he had put a lot of effort into this underground bunker. He had no family, no worries, and no shortage of food. So why would he just walk away from all of it?

Not everyone had space abilities to pack up their supplies and leave. At a time like this, giving up crucial food and resources could mean life or death. So why was he willing to abandon all of this?

Unless…

He knew about the rain too?

With two pairs of sharp eyes locked onto him, Zheng Yijie awkwardly retracted his half-raised hand. Then, he let out a long sigh. “Ugh… It’s a long story. I’m starving. Let’s eat first—we can talk after.”

Dinner was simple and rough. Two dishes, no soup—one sad-looking plate of soy-sauce stir-fried potatoes and one pitifully watery serving of sautéed bok choy.

The children didn’t eat much. After barely finishing half a bowl of rice porridge each, they put down their bowls and scurried off to play with Legos.

The adults, on the other hand, ate like they hadn’t seen food in weeks.

The meal wasn’t exactly delicious, but after days of surviving on instant food and dry rations, even a bowl of hot plain porridge felt like a luxury. Even the two women—who had been eating sparingly before—devoured two full bowls with chili sauce.

They managed to finish the dishes, but more than half a pot of the thick white porridge remained. It could have made for a decent breakfast the next morning, but there was no point in even considering it—

In this heat, even in the slightly cooler basement, the temperature had to be over thirty degrees Celsius. By morning, the porridge would definitely spoil.

No matter how much they hated wasting food, they had no choice but to throw it out.

Gu Mengran volunteered to take out the trash, carrying the half-full pot of porridge upstairs alone. Ten minutes later, he returned—sweaty and breathless—holding an empty tin pot.

Throw it out? Not a chance. In his space, food wouldn’t spoil.

After dinner, no one rushed to clear the table or head to bed.

Gu Mengran and Liang Zhao settled back into their seats, staring straight at Zheng Yijie, waiting for him to start talking. Their intense gaze made it clear—they weren’t leaving without answers.

Seeing their stance, the old man and the two teachers—who had been about to get up—paused mid-step. Then, as if thinking better of it, they sat back down. They weren’t staring as blatantly as Gu Mengran and Liang Zhao, but their attention was locked on Zheng Yijie all the same.

Being the center of attention wasn’t too bad. Surrounded by eager listeners, Zheng Yijie casually leaned back and, in his usual conversational style, began recounting the current situation in Shancheng.

“After the earthquake, most of the survivors from the northern part of the city took shelter near Jiu Street’s air-raid shelters. Oh, right—you guys haven’t been to Shancheng before, have you? Those shelters were built years ago, and there’s a whole network of them underground. They’re practically like an underground shopping district now.”

“This earthquake left no room for survival. The dead were dead, the injured were left to suffer, and the buildings? All collapsed. Having an air-raid shelter to hide in was a stroke of luck. But with too many people and no rescue in sight, things started going downhill fast. Fighting became the norm. People were literally risking their lives over a mouthful of food, a blanket, or even just a spot to rest.”

“Then, one day, a man built like a tank—his arms thicker than my thighs—showed up with his gang and took over the air-raid shelter. At the time, things were chaotic and terrifying—people were desperate. Honestly, having someone step up to maintain order should’ve been a good thing. But the problem was… The moment he took over, he crowned himself king. He didn’t even see the other survivors as human.”

“How so?” Meng Gaoyang, hooked by the story, immediately pressed for details.

Zheng Yijie let out a heavy sigh, shaking his head. “Once he took control, he claimed ownership of everything in the shelter—including the supplies people had brought in themselves. Everything had to be turned over to him, and he controlled the distribution. And guess what? He and his gang ate like kings—while the rest of the survivors had to risk their lives, choking on thick smog, just to scavenge for more supplies. He even set quotas. Every single person had to bring back a minimum amount each day—or else their rations got cut.”

BANG!

The old man slammed his palm on the table, his face red with anger. “Despicable!” he spat furiously.

Something didn’t sit right with Liang Zhao. Frowning, he asked, “If it was really that bad, why didn’t people just leave? Sure, the earthquake was devastating, but an entire city? There had to be buildings still standing somewhere. And isn’t Shancheng full of air-raid shelters? Couldn’t they have just found another one?”

“It’s not that they didn’t want to leave. They couldn’t.” Zheng Yijie let out a long sigh. “Not everyone is alone in this world. Most people had families. If one person left, their loved ones were left behind. If it were you, would you still walk away?”

Liang Zhao slowly shook his head. “Keep going,” he said.

Zheng Yijie sighed. “With order collapsed and society in chaos, they thrived on that sense of absolute power. The more control they had, the more they craved it. So, naturally, they wouldn’t allow anyone to break free. Some people couldn’t take it anymore and tried to escape in the dead of night. But they didn’t make it far. His lackeys caught them and dragged them back.

That night, I was nearby, trying to get my hands on some gasoline… I heard everything. They beat them—mercilessly. Didn’t stop until they were half-dead. Didn’t stop until they were begging. Then, they dragged them back like animals.”

“If it was that bad, why didn’t the survivors just band together and fight back?” Gu Mengran’s fingers curled into loose fists near his nose, his expression serious. “There were more survivors than lackeys—couldn’t they have joined forces, kicked them out, and chosen someone decent to lead?”

Zheng Yijie let out a hollow chuckle, the corners of his mouth pulling into a bitter smile. “It’s not that simple. Power always tilts toward resources. The more supplies he controlled, the more people followed him. And let’s be real—most of them were just ordinary folks from a time of peace. When you’re barely surviving on scraps, where would you even find the strength to rebel?”

Faced with catastrophe, people clung to life however they could. With their own survival hanging by a thread, who would dare risk it all to play hero?

The weight of his words sank into the room.

A heavy silence settled over them, pressing down on the adults. Only the sound of the children’s lighthearted giggles broke through the gloom—completely unaware of the cruel reality that surrounded them.

The more they learned, the more powerless they felt.

Gu Mengran knew he couldn’t change anything. He forced himself to stop dwelling on others’ misfortunes and instead turned to Zheng Yijie.

“You think they’ll become a threat to you. That’s why—despite all the effort you put into preparing this place—you’d rather abandon everything and leave the city?”

“It’s not that I think they’ll be a threat,” Zheng Yijie shook his head so fast it was a blur. “They absolutely will. Ever since the heatwave started, they’ve been scouring the city for any survivors left outside. Anyone they find, they take. And whatever supplies that person has? Also gone.”

Gu Mengran frowned deeply, rubbing his chin in thought. “That’s weird. Resources are already scarce, so why bring in more people instead of kicking them out? Wait… could it be that with the rising temperatures, they’re just taking people into the bunker to escape the heat?”

“Escape the heat?” Zheng Yijie let out a cold laugh. “You think they’re dragging people back—kicking and screaming—just to help them cool off? No way. They’re nothing but thugs with power trips, doing whatever the hell they want. I saw it myself. There’s no other explanation.”

He exhaled sharply. “I’m not going to that bunker. I’ve never worked a day in my life, and now I’m supposed to become some slave for those bastards? No way. I need to get out of this city. Whatever supplies I can take, I’ll take, but my life comes first.”

As he spoke, something suddenly clicked in his mind. His face shifted slightly, and he snapped his head up to look at the others. “You didn’t run into anyone on your way into the city, did you? Did you… get the feeling that someone was following you?”

Following us? What am I, a secret agent? Gu Mengran mentally rolled his eyes. Even if someone had been tailing them, he definitely wouldn’t have noticed. Still, he shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

“It was completely quiet,” Wei Qianlan added. “Didn’t see a single soul the whole way here.”

Zheng Yijie let out a sigh of relief and patted his chest. “Good. That’s good. The heat’s been unbearable lately, so they haven’t been as active. But we still need to stay cautious—best to avoid going out if possible.

Honestly, my house is pretty far from Jiu Street, but since it’s still standing, it sticks out like a sore thumb. It’s only a matter of time before they find it. We need to leave. Soon.”

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