Axolotl Translations

The sky was growing darker by the minute. Far in the west, the last sliver of sunset lingered on the horizon, casting its final golden glow like a dutiful farewell.

Chu Xinglan didn’t need sleep. But Ruan Zhao did. In fact, his body was even more delicate than the average mortal’s—missing even a single hour of sleep would leave him out of sorts. After days of hiding deep in the mountains, his nerves had long been stretched thin. So as soon as the sun dipped below the horizon, his eyelids began to droop.

Before long, he was once again slumped against Chu Xinglan’s shoulder. The boy sat with a straight spine, solid and unmoving like a pine that would never bend. His shoulder curved smoothly from his neck, making a surface as firm and unyielding as polished jade.

Ruan Zhao wasn’t sleeping well. It wasn’t long before he woke again. He wiped at the corner of his mouth—even though there was no drool—and blinked in a daze.

“Is it morning already?”

Chu Xinglan paused before answering, “It’s not even fully dark yet. We’re almost at the next town. Once we’re there, I’ll find us an inn. You can get a proper night’s sleep, and we’ll head out again in the morning.”

“So sleepy…” Ruan Zhao yawned, his voice trailing off into a drowsy whimper. Tears pooled at the corners of his eyes, and his words came out slightly nasal, as if he were pouting. “And hungry too… Did I eat lunch?” he mumbled to himself. “Yeah, I did. A box of peach blossom cakes, one giant chicken leg, and a full bowl of sweet soup. Then why am I still so hungry?”

Chu Xinglan replied without missing a beat, “Because it’s dinnertime.”

Ruan Zhao’s eyes lit up as if this were the most brilliant deduction he’d ever heard. He stared at Chu Xinglan with admiration, like: wow, you really are a genius.

Chu Xinglan smiled faintly. “Then let’s eat first, and find an inn after.”

……

They landed the spirit boat on the outskirts of town and chose the grandest-looking restaurant they could find. They ordered a full spread of signature dishes. Ruan Zhao dug in with obvious joy, his beautiful eyes curved into delighted crescents.

Ruan Zhao wasn’t just eating—he made sure to feed Chu Xinglan, too. “This one’s amazing—soft and sweet. And this meat? Perfectly crispy outside, tender inside, rich but not greasy. You have to try it…”

He nearly filled Chu Xinglan’s entire bowl before suddenly remembering—Chu Xinglan had long since entered the fasting stage. Ordinary food without spiritual energy wasn’t just unnecessary for him—it could actually weigh down his body.

Ruan Zhao froze mid-motion, then reached out to take the bowl back. “Maybe you should just watch me eat…”

“It’s fine,” Chu Xinglan stopped him gently. He picked up his chopsticks and took a shrimp from the bowl. “I want to taste it too.”

Eating with someone else was always more satisfying than eating alone. Compared to his usual appetite, Ruan Zhao ended up eating half a bowl more than normal.

A server brought over a pot of chilled herbal tea and a few light pastries to cleanse the palate. But instead of leaving, he paused—his gaze fixed on Ruan Zhao’s face. There was a flash of obvious amazement in his eyes. He stood frozen for a moment, until the swordsman beside Ruan Zhao shifted slightly, displeasure flickering across his expression.

“Is there something else?” Chu Xinglan’s voice turned cool.

“N-no, not really… It’s just…” The server hesitated, clearly conflicted, then finally spoke. “Yunzhou City hasn’t been safe lately. In the past two months, dozens of young women have gone missing. Some of them were even Foundation-stage cultivators. Several sects have searched the surrounding area, but no solid clues have turned up. Word is, it’s the work of a demonic cultivator… someone who specifically targets beautiful women to harvest their yin for yang cultivation.”

His eyes flicked toward Ruan Zhao, full of concern. “Miss… you should be extra careful these next few days. If possible, the two of you might want to leave Yunzhou as soon as you can.”

Ruan Zhao gave a polite nod, completely serious as he thanked him. “Thank you for the warning. I’ll be careful.”

The server set down the tea and snacks, bowed, and quickly took his leave.

Ruan Zhao had never encountered a demonic cultivator before. He’d only ever heard about them in stories—how they were hideous, with green faces and fangs, sometimes with three heads and six arms, wicked and cruel, universally hated throughout the cultivation world.

Ruan Zhao couldn’t help but ask, his voice tinged with curiosity. “Xinglan… is it true that demonic cultivators look different from ordinary people? Do they really have three heads and six arms? Are they… terrifying to look at?”

Chu Xinglan’s eyes sparkled with quiet amusement. “Who told you that?” he asked with a small smile. “Demonic cultivators are still people. They’re not some strange species from another realm. If they were that easy to spot, if you could pick them out of a crowd at a glance, the cultivation world wouldn’t have to work so hard every year tracking them down.”

Ruan Zhao mulled that over. “You make a good point. Have you ever met a demonic cultivator, then?”

“Of course I have,” Chu Xinglan said casually, gently brushing his hand across the sword resting beside him. He had more than just met them—he’d personally slain quite a few. But those were bloody details best left unspoken, especially around Zhaozhao.

After their meal, they found an inn nearby and booked two upper rooms to rest properly for the night. Chu Xinglan recalled the server’s warning. Just in case, he decided to leave Suiying, his sword, with Ruan Zhao.

Ruan Zhao looked puzzled. “But I don’t know how to use a sword.”

“This one is different,” Chu Xinglan explained. “I drew it from the Sword Tomb. It’s developed a sword spirit. Even if I’m not by your side, it will protect you in my stead.”

Almost as if to confirm his words, the slender silver sword floated up into the air and bobbed gently—like it was nodding.

Ruan Zhao’s eyes lit up. “That’s so cute!” He reached out, carefully, and gave the blade a little poke with his fingertip.

Suiying stiffened slightly, then dulled its sharp edges on its own, softening the blade’s aura. Even if Ruan Zhao got curious and touched the edge, it wouldn’t cut him. To make things easier, the sword even tilted its hilt toward him.

Ruan Zhao began stroking the hilt gently, as if petting a kitten or a puppy. “Mm… I guess the hilt could be considered its head, right?”

Chu Xinglan watched the carefree interaction between sword and boy, then suddenly spoke up. “I’ll be right next door,” he said softly. “If anything happens, just call me. I’ll come right away.”

Ruan Zhao was still happily playing with Suiying and only gave him a distracted reply. “Got it, got it. Go to sleep already. I’m going to bed too. Goodnight, Brother. See you tomorrow!”

Ruan Zhao lay down, placing Suiying gently beside his pillow. The sword, ever dutiful, stood guard like a loyal soldier, its presence alert and watchful—sweeping the room with unseen eyes, missing not a single corner.

The frosty-white blade gave off a gentle glow, soft as moonlight. Even at a glance, its gleaming edges and starlike luster revealed it as something rare and precious—surely one of the world’s priceless treasures.

Ruan Zhao’s thoughts drifted. He picked up a cup, sighing wistfully. “If only I still had my old magic treasures… If they were still around, forget demonic cultivators—even their leader wouldn’t dare show his face.”

Suiying shimmered a little brighter in response, as if to say, Even without those artifacts, I’ll keep you safe.

Ruan Zhao smiled, lips curving gently. He closed his eyes and drifted into a peaceful, dreamless sleep.

The next morning, Ruan Zhao woke right on time. Suiying was still at his bedside, quiet and motionless—faithfully keeping watch. But something was different. The sword now looked more… ordinary, no longer glowing with the same spirited energy it had shown the night before.

Maybe it had grown tired from keeping watch all night. He wondered—do swords need sleep too? After a moment’s thought, he kindly pulled the blanket over it, then gave it two gentle pats, the way one might soothe a child.

Suiying twitched slightly, as if responding. Just then, there was a knock at the door.

Ruan Zhao froze. He hadn’t washed up yet, hadn’t done his hair or touched up his face. His dress was rumpled, and his hair was sticking up in every direction—left side spiked, right side fluffed. There was no way he could be seen like this!

“Wait! Don’t come in yet!”

The knocking stopped. A moment later, a quiet, slightly uncertain voice drifted in from outside. “Zhaozhao… are you still asleep?”

“No—”

“I’m changing! You’re not allowed to come in without permission!”

Ruan Zhao quickly formed a cleansing spell with a flick of spiritual energy. Then he rummaged through his storage ring and pulled out a fresh white robe, slipping it on. He walked over to the bronze mirror in the room and carefully tidied his messy hair, twisting it into a neat topknot.

In the mirror, the “girl” looking back at him had a strikingly androgynous beauty. Her eyes were light in color, with a delicate upward tilt that made them naturally alluring. Her nose was straight and well-defined, and her small lips were like flower petals—rosy and full.

With the help of the new hairstyle softening the edges of his face, it was nearly impossible to tell the real gender behind that pretty appearance.

Ruan Zhao cupped his cheeks and stared at himself in the mirror, dazed. He was still young now. Even without makeup, it was easy to pass as a girl. But once he grew up and his features matured, it wouldn’t be so simple to keep up the disguise.

Sooner or later, Chu Xinglan would find out the truth—that his fiancée was, in fact, a fiancé. Would he lose his mind when that day came?

Another knock interrupted his thoughts. This time, the knocks were faster—like the person outside had waited too long and was growing impatient. “Zhaozhao, are you ready? It’s time to go.”

Ruan Zhao went to open the door.

The young man still wore the same flowing white robes from the day before—tall and graceful, a figure of beauty and poise, like an immortal stepped out from a painting. Bathed in the soft glow of morning light, Chu Xinglan said gently, “Zhaozhao, it’s time for us to go.”

“Right now?” Ruan Zhao hesitated. “But I haven’t eaten breakfast yet…” His stomach rumbled loudly, right on cue. Skipping a meal just wasn’t an option.

Chu Xinglan replied, “I bought buns and porridge. We can eat on the flying boat.” As he spoke, he reached out and tugged on Ruan Zhao’s wrist, intending to lead him away at once.

Ruan Zhao stumbled slightly, caught off guard, but dug in his heels and managed to stop. He looked at him suspiciously. “What’s the rush? Didn’t you say just yesterday that we could take our time, explore the lower realms, see the sights… even if we were a little late to Jingzhou Sea, it wouldn’t matter?”

Chu Xinglan paused for a heartbeat, then kept his expression calm as he replied. “Of course I still want to travel with you, Zhaozhao. I want to see the world by your side. But this morning, the innkeeper told me that another dozen young women went missing yesterday in Yunzhou City…” His brows furrowed, voice tinged with worry. “This place is far too dangerous. It’s best if we leave as soon as possible.”

Ruan Zhao looked at him steadily. “But you’re so powerful, aren’t you? You can protect me, can’t you? Those ugly demon cultivators—none of them could possibly be a match for you.”

Chu Xinglan’s smile faltered just slightly. “Of course I can protect you. But Zhaozhao,” he said softly, “even if it’s just one in ten thousand… I don’t want you to face danger. I’d be terrified if something happened to you.”

Ruan Zhao tilted his head, a puzzled expression on his face. “But aren’t those lower-realm demon cultivators just ants to you? You could crush them with a flick of your hand.”

Chu Xinglan’s lashes lowered. “They are nothing, it’s true. But even so… I can’t afford the slightest carelessness when it comes to you.”

Ruan Zhao seemed satisfied with the answer. “Alright, then. Let me pack up. Wait for me.”

A flicker of something crossed Chu Xinglan’s brow. He looked like he wanted to say more—but in the end, he held it in. He waited quietly outside.

The upper-floor suites at the inn had a narrow corridor. Even if one tried to peek inside, all they might catch was a fleeting glimpse of a girl’s swaying skirt. It was impossible to see what she was actually doing.

“Zhaozhao—”

“Coming!”

Ruan Zhao emerged, dragging a long, slender bundle behind him, and offered Chu Xinglan a sweet smile. “Let’s go, Brother.”

Chu Xinglan relaxed, his brow finally smoothing out. He reached out, intending to take her soft, fair hand. But just then—

The bundle split open from the inside, revealing the gleaming silver of a long, sharp sword. Ruan Zhao stepped back half a pace, and shouted: “Suiying—now! Cut him down!”

---

Previous Chapter | TOC | Next Chapter