Axolotl Translations

Ruan Zhao made it home without incident, slipping inside unnoticed.

His mother was in the living room, engrossed in a television program. It must have been a pivotal moment, as she didn’t even register his arrival. He quietly ascended the stairs, careful to avoid making a sound.

However, Gu Xingyan’s pants were far too long. He inadvertently stepped on the hem, stumbling forward. Fortunately, he caught the railing in time, preventing a fall. Still, the noise was loud enough to attract attention.

“Zhaozhao…?” His mother’s voice carried up from downstairs, laced with concern.

“It’s me, Mom,” Ruan Zhao called back. He peered over the railing, his gaze flickering slightly as he forced a smile.

Mothers always know their children best. One glance at his hesitant expression was enough for her to discern he was concealing something. His mother narrowed her eyes.

“You came home without saying anything to me?”

“…I forgot.”

“How was the birthday party? Did you have fun?”

“It was fun.”

“Were there a lot of people? Did you make any new friends?”

Ruan Zhao paused before answering, “I met some people, but I didn’t really make any new friends.”

Without hesitation, his mother replied, “Well, that’s their loss. Zhaozhao is so adorable—who wouldn’t want to be your friend?”

……

With each question, Ruan Zhao answered dutifully. Before he realized it, he had leaned his entire upper body over the railing to converse with her.

Seeing the unfamiliar, clearly oversized shirt on Ruan Zhao, his mother’s expression flickered momentarily. It was subtle, but her face shifted between doubt and surprise, as if a sudden thought had occurred to her. The shirt he wore was obviously a boy’s, and several sizes too large. The sleeves were rolled up neatly, several times, to expose his wrists.

His mother knew her son well. She knew he wouldn’t roll his sleeves so precisely—someone else had clearly done it for him. She looked at him, puzzled. She was about to ask whose shirt he was wearing—but then, she noticed something else. Something that shocked her even more.

She distinctly remembered him leaving the house in light blue jeans. But now, he was wearing dark-colored casual pants. It had only been a simple gathering with classmates. Why had he changed both his shirt and his pants? And furthermore—he had deliberately tried to avoid her upon his return, as if he didn’t want her to notice…

A terrible suspicion formed in her mind. The thought sent a wave of dizziness through her, making her feel as if the sky were falling. But she knew better than to overreact. She couldn’t show panic, nor could she express disapproval. Doing so might provoke his rebellious instincts and push him further away.

Taking a deep breath to steady herself, she softened her voice and carefully probed. “Zhaozhao, whose clothes are you wearing?”

Hearing her question, Ruan Zhao flinched, pulling his head back as if trying to escape.

From downstairs, his mother’s hesitant yet gentle voice drifted up. “Zhaozhao, you know I’m not one of those old-fashioned parents. If you’ve… found someone you like, you can tell me. Whether it’s a girl or…” She trailed off, struggling to articulate the rest. After a slight pause, she forced herself to continue, albeit awkwardly. “Or… a boy. Either way, you can bring them home and let me meet them.”

…A boy? A girl? Someone he liked? Why was this getting more and more ridiculous?! It took Ruan Zhao a few seconds to grasp her implication. When it clicked, his face flushed crimson.

“No—! That’s not what happened at all!” he blurted, scrambling to explain. “I just… I got my clothes dirty at the party, so I borrowed some from a classmate.”

His mother remained unconvinced. “You borrowed your classmate’s clothes and wore them home? What about him? Did he just walk around half-dressed?”

“No, of course not!” Ruan Zhao quickly clarified. “His house is nearby, so I went there to change.”

His mother’s mind went blank for a moment. Then, in a voice trembling on the verge of collapse, she asked, “You… you even went home with him?”

“Of course I did! What was I supposed to do—have him strip and hand me his clothes right then and there? That wouldn’t be borrowing, that’d be stealing.”

His mother: “…”

“We really were just swapping clothes, nothing else.” Ruan Zhao’s gaze was sincere, his expression filled with conviction. “Mom, you have to believe me.”

His mother slowly sank onto the sofa, her eyelids half-lowered as she stared at him. The way she looked at him… it was the gaze of someone who had seen through everything.

Her expression seemed to convey, You don’t have to bother making up lies—I already know everything.

Ruan Zhao: “…” Why did it feel as if the more he explained, the more suspicious he seemed?

Then, an idea struck him—his eyes brightened. He knew precisely how to dispel her suspicions. “The one who lent me the clothes was Gu Xingyan,” he said. “You remember him, right? The guy you spoke with on the phone a while back? You even invited him to our house…”

His mother straightened slightly. “…It was him?”

Ruan Zhao nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah! He’s super nice. Last time, when we stayed out too late, he even made sure I got home safely.”

“This time, he saw my clothes were dirty and immediately offered to lend me his.” He continued to extol Gu Xingyan’s virtues, describing him as a kind, thoughtful, and helpful classmate—all in an attempt to alleviate any lingering doubts his mother harbored.

“So that’s what happened…” she murmured, appearing somewhat reassured. “He really does sound like a good kid. Zhaozhao, you should be sure to thank him properly.”

“I will,” Ruan Zhao promised. “Mom, I’ll head upstairs now, okay?”

His mother nodded. “Alright, go ahead.”

As soon as his figure vanished up the stairs and his bedroom door clicked shut, the calm facade she had maintained crumbled. Grabbing her phone, she opened her top-pinned chat and immediately flooded it with exclamation marks.

“!!!!!!”

A moment later, a reply appeared. “What’s wrong?”

“Our son… I think he’s dating someone!!!”

……

While Ruan Zhao was busy explaining to his mother why he was wearing someone else’s clothes, Gu Xingyan had already fallen asleep in bed. Perhaps it was the accumulated exhaustion of the past few days, but he fell asleep earlier than usual that night. And he had a dream—hazy, indistinct.

Someone was following him, calling his name in a soft, gentle voice. The moment he turned around, that person threw themselves into his arms, nuzzling against his chest like a restless kitten. Then, with delicate arms, they wrapped around his neck.

……

…A strange heat surged through his veins, setting his entire body ablaze. His blood rushed, and with it, his rationality seemed to dissolve. Instinctively, he pulled the other person closer, pinning them beneath him… And then, things spiraled out of control. Low, breathless whispers filled the air. He kissed them—inch by inch—starting from their soft lips, down their pale, slender neck… until he reached a tiny, crimson mole.

Gu Xingyan jolted awake. His breathing was uneven, ragged. For a moment, he was completely disoriented, his emotions still entangled in the remnants of the dream. His fingers trembled slightly. He rarely dreamed. Let alone… a dream like that.

He sat up. Feeling the damp sweat beneath him, along with… something else. His hand clenched around the edge of the bedsheet. Then, as if erasing all evidence of his transgression, he yanked it off the bed, crumpled it up, and tossed it to the floor.

He ran a hand through his damp bangs, pushing them back to reveal his smooth forehead. His gaze darkened. Like the vast, endless sea beneath the cover of night—silent on the surface, but concealing turbulent waves beneath.

……

Ruan Zhao noticed that something was amiss with Gu Xingyan lately. It was almost as if… he was avoiding him. Yet, simultaneously, he was as dependable as ever—helping with homework, buying snacks from the convenience store, finishing the portions of his lunch he “couldn’t eat,” and even keeping watch when he dozed off in class.

Superficially, his behavior was flawless. And yet, Ruan Zhao’s instincts insisted something was off. He stared intently at the boy before him, trying to pinpoint the source of his unease.

Gu Xingyan must have sensed his gaze. He turned his head slightly, glanced at him—then quickly looked away. Then, with a firm hand, he nudged Ruan Zhao’s cheek, turning his head in the opposite direction. “Stop looking at me. Look at the board.”

Ruan Zhao: “…” As if I actually want to look at you. What’s so fascinating about that cold, expressionless face anyway?

Annoyed, Ruan Zhao huffed and turned away, resolving not to look at Gu Xingyan for the rest of the day. No eye contact. No interaction.

This period was math class. The teacher was reviewing the previous test.

The test questions were of a type Ruan Zhao had solved countless times in his previous life. He was so familiar with them that a single glance was enough to determine the answer. Bored to distraction, he pulled a pencil from his case and began doodling in the blank space on his paper.

He drew a small stick figure—one with long, towering legs, standing tall at 1.8 meters. Its expression was smug and arrogant, looking down with a sense of superiority. Beneath it, another stick figure lay crushed under its foot, much smaller and scrawnier. It looked utterly pitiful, kneeling on the ground with its hands clasped in a pleading gesture. He even added a speech bubble next to it, filled with tiny scribbled lines. The apologizing figure was speaking. “I’m sorry, I was wrong.”

Pleased with his artwork, Ruan Zhao reached for his phone to take a picture. Just then, a dark pencil streak marred the paper. Without looking up, he held out his palm. “Eraser.”

A few seconds later, an eraser was placed in his hand. Instinctively, he pulled back—but accidentally brushed against Gu Xingyan’s fingers, which had yet to retract. It was a fleeting moment, barely noticeable.

It was nothing more than an ordinary, everyday touch. But Gu Xingyan reacted as if he’d been scorched, jerking his hand away instantly. His movement was so abrupt that he accidentally bumped the chair behind him, producing a loud thud.

Ruan Zhao froze. Completely forgetting his earlier resolution, he lifted his head and looked at Gu Xingyan. But the other boy quickly averted his gaze. His expression was dark, his brows slightly furrowed. His usually deep eyes seemed clouded, weighed down by something heavy and unreadable.

A giant question mark formed in Ruan Zhao’s mind. Just as he was about to ask what was wrong, Gu Xingyan suddenly grabbed his book, turned on his heel, and moved to the back of the room without a word.

Ruan Zhao: “…?” Did I do something to offend him? What’s he so mad about?

What he didn’t see was Gu Xingyan’s body, trembling ever so slightly, as if struggling to suppress something. Nor did he notice the way, after turning away, the boy’s gaze turned murky, deep, and inscrutable.

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