Axolotl Translations

Everyone was busy, and Gu Mengran couldn’t just sit idly.

Since he wasn’t fully recovered and wasn’t allowed on deck, he went to the wheelhouse instead. Spotting Zheng Yijie, he promptly sent him out to help with the work and took over the crane controls himself.

The diesel was still being transferred into barrels, and there wasn’t much to do while sitting in the wheelhouse. Bored, Gu Mengran idly picked at his nails for a while. When that got old, he casually reached for the radio and called out, “Xu Xinghe, you busy?”

The response came almost instantly.

“Brother Gu! You’re in the wheelhouse?” Xu Xinghe’s voice had a hint of excitement. “Not busy, not busy at all. I heard you caught a cold—feeling any better now?”

“Much better. Who’s been running their mouth?”

With nothing else to do, Gu Mengran leaned into the conversation, letting the small talk flow.

Xu Xinghe chuckled. “It was Brother Zheng. He said you passed out as soon as you got back from Juqing—oh wait, not Juqing. It’s Heng Rong Sheng 2 now! He said you got hit with both a cold and heatstroke—pretty rough.”

“Yeah, it was pretty rough,” Gu Mengran admitted, sniffling. “Why the sudden name change? Heng Rong Sheng 2, huh?”

“Haha, I came up with that! Not bad, right? We changed the name because of Brother Liang. He said the Juqing series belongs to the Dafei Group, and anyone in the shipping industry for a while would recognize it. So we repainted the name overnight.”

Gu Mengran nodded thoughtfully. “Makes sense. Liang Zhao really knows his stuff.”

“I think so too.” Xu Xinghe chuckled, readily agreeing.

Then, after a brief pause, he brought the radio closer and deliberately lowered his voice. “Hey, Brother Gu, can I ask you something? Brother Liang used to run ships on the Huang River, right? How old is he?”

The moment those words left his mouth, alarms went off in Gu Mengran’s head. He remained silent for nearly a full minute before responding with a question of his own. “Why do you want to know?”

Oblivious to any shift in tone, Xu Xinghe grinned and said, “Well, since our two teams have allied, I was thinking we could strengthen our bond even further.”

“You see, Brother Liang is single, and my sister is also single. If they hit it off, then Heng Rong Sheng and Windwing would be family, right? Wouldn’t that be great?”

Gu Mengran’s grip on the radio stiffened for a moment before he let out a soft chuckle. “An alliance isn’t enough—you want a marriage pact too? You really know how to maximize a deal.”

Xu Xinghe quickly changed gears, letting out a sheepish laugh before sighing heavily. His voice carried a tinge of self-reproach. “Sigh… it’s really just because I’m useless. Like today—I should’ve been the one working on deck, but I’m just a summer worker. I don’t know anything. My sister has to handle everything herself.”

“She’s always looked after me, ever since we were kids. She’s done so much for me, and I really want to do something for her in return. But I’m just too useless. She’s had to struggle so much, always dragging me along. So—”

“So now you want to find her a husband to share the burden?” Gu Mengran cut him off coldly, his tone far from friendly.

Xu Xinghe hesitated. “I-I just… had the thought, that’s all.”

Gu Mengran’s temper flared instantly. “Thought my ass! You’ve lost your mind.”

“I—I—”

“Xu Xinghe tried to explain, but Gu Mengran didn’t give him the chance. His voice dripped with sarcasm. “What do you mean, ‘I’? Are you a baby? You have hands and feet, don’t you? If you don’t understand something, can’t you learn? And if you learn, can’t you help? But no, you’d rather take shortcuts—find a brother-in-law so you can keep relying on someone else. What do you think your sister is? Some kind of tool for your convenience?”

Xu Xinghe was stunned into silence. Seizing the moment while Gu Mengran paused to breathe, he hurriedly tried to explain. “Brother Gu, you’ve got it wrong! That’s not what I meant. I am learning, and I am trying to help my sister. Finding her a husband isn’t about me relying on anyone, I—I…”

He stammered, struggling to find the right words.

Gu Mengran clicked his tongue in irritation. “Does your sister even know you’re out here matchmaking for her?”

“N-no, she doesn’t.” Xu Xinghe’s voice carried a hint of guilt.

Gu Mengran’s temper hadn’t completely cooled, but he forced himself to calm down a little. His tone turned serious. “Whether you’re trying to strengthen our alliance or help your sister, finding her a partner isn’t your decision to make. Do you understand?”

“I do, I do… I was just thinking I’d ask you first, then talk to her.”

Gu Mengran let out a dry laugh. “And how exactly were you planning to convince her? Weigh the pros and cons of marriage? List all the benefits and try to sell her on the idea? Do you even know if that’s what she wants? Are you sure she wouldn’t just agree to make your life easier?”

Silence.

The only sound from the radio was the faint crackle of static. Xu Xinghe didn’t say a word.

Gu Mengran let out a quiet sigh and softened his tone. “Look, I don’t think you’re just trying to mooch off her, but this idea of yours? It’s foolish. If you really care about your sister, then step up. Learn. Grow. Become someone she can rely on. Because if even her own little brother isn’t dependable, why would she trust any other man?”

The silence stretched on for what felt like ages. Then, through the static, Xu Xinghe’s voice finally came through—hoarse and subdued.

“…I’m sorry, Brother Gu. I understand now.”

“You don’t owe me an apology,” Gu Mengran said lightly, then added with a hint of self-mockery, “If anything, I should be embarrassed for lecturing you like this when I’m not even family.”

“No, no, I really understand now, Brother Gu,” Xu Xinghe said hurriedly. “My sister is the kind of good sister who’d sacrifice herself for me. I just never thought about it that way before… It makes it seem like I’m selling her off for my own benefit.”

“You’re absolutely right—relying on others is useless. I have to step up. Otherwise, with a dad like ours and a younger brother like me, my sister’s probably going to end up hating men altogether!”

Instead of being discouraged by Gu Mengran’s scolding, Xu Xinghe seemed to get fired up—like he’d been injected with pure adrenaline.

Gu Mengran let out a quiet chuckle. He was about to switch off the radio and end what had been a rather unpleasant conversation when a sudden thought struck him.

“Xu Xinghe,” he called, lowering his voice. “I have a question.”

“Go ahead, Brother Gu.”

Hearing the serious tone, Xu Xinghe immediately straightened up, thinking something important was coming. He sat properly, waiting for whatever Gu Mengran had to say.

But after a brief pause, Gu Mengran coughed lightly, sounding a little awkward. “I just have to ask… why exactly did you choose Liang Zhao as your sister’s future husband?”

“Huh?” Xu Xinghe blinked, caught off guard. After a moment, he answered honestly, “Well, first of all, Brother Liang is handsome, obviously. He looks like the kind of guy who can handle hardship—quiet but dependable, the type who does more than he says. And most importantly, he’d definitely treat his wife well.”

Treat his wife well…

Gu Mengran burst out laughing. “And what exactly makes you think he’d be good to his wife?”

“Men who don’t talk much usually are,” Xu Xinghe said with complete confidence.

Gu Mengran smirked. “So, you never considered anyone else?”

“I did! I thought about Brother Zheng, but, well… uh…” Xu Xinghe’s voice trailed off, getting quieter. Then, hesitantly, he added, “You won’t tell him this, right? It’s just… he’s kinda short. And he’s nearsighted. I keep worrying that if his glasses break, he won’t be able to find a replacement, and then he won’t be able to tell people apart from ten meters away.”

Honestly… that might actually be true.

Gu Mengran’s gloom instantly lifted, and he covered his mouth, laughing for a good while.

Just as Xu Xinghe wiped the sweat from his forehead, thinking the conversation was finally over, Gu Mengran suddenly asked, “What about me? You never considered me?”

Xu Xinghe’s whole body stiffened. Eyes wide with shock, he stammered, “Brother Gu, stop messing with me!”

“How am I messing with you? Am I not a man?” Gu Mengran asked, genuinely puzzled.

“You are a man, but… but…” Xu Xinghe stuttered, struggling to find the words. “You—you look like you prefer men!”

The smile froze on Gu Mengran’s face. He straightened his back and asked, “Is it that obvious?”

Xu Xinghe nearly choked on his own spit. Coughing violently, he clutched his chest and gasped, “Brother Gu, can you not be this honest?!”

Gu Mengran shrugged. “Honesty isn’t—”

“Bridge to cockpit, prepare to operate the robotic arm!”

Before he could finish, the radio on the console crackled to life. Gu Mengran quickly told Xu Xinghe, “We’ll continue this later,” then set down the communicator and moved to the control panel to work.

Just as Gu Mengran had estimated, both ships’ mechanical arms operated simultaneously. By the time they wrapped up at 6 AM, they had transferred nearly 300 tons of diesel onto the Windwing.

Since the Windwingdidn’t have a built-in cooling system, the barrels were stacked in the first-floor hall and covered with heat-resistant tarps. But the sheer volume of fuel still made Gu Mengran uneasy. Taking advantage of the tarp’s cover, he discreetly stored most of it away in his space.

While 300 tons sounded like a lot, for the Heng Rong Sheng 2, which had a full load capacity of 3,000 tons, it was barely a tenth of its total cargo.

Xu Xingran wanted to transfer more fuel, and Gu Mengran wouldn’t have minded taking extra, but they’d run out of spare barrels. And since scooping up diesel with their bare hands wasn’t an option…

The river remained eerily blanketed in dead fish, casting a grim atmosphere over the water. No one wanted to linger any longer than necessary. So, after a quick breakfast, the Windwing took the lead around 8 AM, guiding the Heng Rong Sheng 2 forward. Everyone aboard breathed a sigh of relief as they resumed their journey.

Two days passed in a blur.

On the morning of their arrival at Lingjiang Port, everyone—without needing to be told—was up bright and early.

By the time Gu Mengran, masked as usual, entered the cockpit, the crew had already gathered.

Liang Zhao sat in the captain’s chair, fresh off the night shift, fatigue etched on his face. Meanwhile, Grandpa Meng and Zheng Yijie stood side by side near the windshield, fully covered in long-sleeved clothing and face masks, peering out over the river.

“How’s it looking? Can you see the port yet?”

It was clear they had just arrived. Grandpa Meng was still scanning the horizon through his binoculars, trying to make sense of the view. Next to him, Zheng Yijie was standing on his toes, craning his neck impatiently.

“Come on, come on, do you see it or not?” Zheng Yijie pressed.

Grandpa Meng clicked his tongue in irritation. “Stop rushing me! And quit bumping into me! I finally had the port in my sights, and now you made me lose it.”

“You’re getting old, Grandpa Meng. Your hands aren’t as steady anymore. Just let me do it.”

“You? A four-eyed nerd? Think you can see any better than me?”

The tension lingering in the air quickly dissipated as the two bickered back and forth. Amused, Gu Mengran chuckled softly. Without a word, he stepped to the windshield and pulled another pair of binoculars from his storage space, lifting them to scan the port ahead.

The port wasn’t far now. Even with the naked eye, the colorful shipping containers stacked along the docks were clearly visible.

Gu Mengran adjusted the magnification on his binoculars, shifting his hands slightly, and soon, the entire port came into view.

It looked like a disaster zone—as if a typhoon had ripped through, or an earthquake had shattered Lingjiang Port. The once neatly arranged containers were overturned, scattered in chaotic disarray, lying haphazardly on the ground like fallen dominoes.

The towering orange cranes and mechanical arms that once dominated the docks were completely uprooted. The connecting bridges were either fractured or entirely collapsed—nothing had been spared.

There wasn’t a single person in sight.

Gu Mengran moved his binoculars toward the shoreline, sweeping his gaze over what Liang Zhao had called the waterfront service area.

Despite its name, the “waterfront service area” wasn’t actually on the water. Instead, it stood along the shoreline, a row of industrial-looking steel structures—functional, but lacking the refinement of a proper onshore facility.

A quick scan revealed no immediate signs of danger, yet an unsettling feeling crept over Gu Mengran. He inhaled deeply and slowly redirected his focus toward the still, mirror-like surface of the river.

The Lingjiang Bridge was severed in the middle, a massive section of roadway completely missing.

Steel reinforcement bars jutted out from the fractured edges, tangled with heavy chunks of concrete that dangled precariously in midair—on the verge of a secondary collapse.

Further ahead, dozens of ships of varying sizes were crammed together, forming an impenetrable steel barrier—blocking what remained of the narrowing waterway.

The river was choked with the bloated carcasses of fish and shrimp, turning the surface into a ghastly white expanse of decay. As he continued scanning, Gu Mengran occasionally spotted larger floating debris.

At first, when he noticed something drifting near the dock, he assumed it was trash from a sunken vessel or wreckage from the shore. He didn’t think much of it.

But just as he was about to lower his binoculars, his lens wavered slightly—and out of nowhere, a grotesquely swollen, rotting human head drifted into view.

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