Axolotl Translations

Gu Mengran didn’t rush into his “Operation Seduction.” He needed a bit of breathing room first.

To thank his faithful, dog-headed strategist for his wisdom, Gu Mengran finally opened the last door of his heart—and dragged him into the spatial farm to plant crops for three whole days.

At first, Zheng Yijie thought it was the coolest thing ever and practically wanted to move in permanently. But by the end of day three, he was so sore he could barely lift his arms, and he cursed Gu Mengran for repaying kindness with back-breaking labor.

Three days of dawn-to-dusk farming later, they’d added potatoes, chives, and lettuce to the already growing fields of cabbage, radishes, and sweet potatoes. More importantly, Gu Mengran had even roped in his human tractor to dig an irrigation ditch by hand. Watering would be way easier from now on.

Without realizing it, they’d already spent six peaceful nights at Fengjin Lake. Just one more day, and their “quarantine” would be over. Whether or not their mysterious host would show up remained to be seen.

After tossing and turning in bed for an hour, Gu Mengran finally gave in. He stretched lazily and climbed out of bed. No rush to wash up—he strolled over to the window and yanked open the curtain with a sharp shff.

At last, the endless rain had let up, softening into a gentle drizzle. The mist hanging over the lake was thinning, and the mountains in the distance had come back into view. Even the noise had died down. The pitter-patter of rain on the canopy sounded almost like a lullaby.

After a few minutes at the window, Gu Mengran had his plan for the day. He grabbed a random outfit from the wardrobe, freshened up, and happily made his way toward the dining room.

It was just after nine. Gu Mengran thought he was up fairly early, but when he arrived, Grandpa and Liang Zhao had already finished breakfast and were sitting in the living room watching TV.

He hadn’t seen much of either of them these past few days—too busy with farm life. The moment he stepped into view, both of them looked over. Grandpa especially gave him a quick once-over… and then very discreetly shot Liang Zhao a look.

Sure enough, Liang Zhao leaned forward like he was about to get up. But before he could make a move, Gu Mengran silently slipped into the kitchen, ate at lightning speed, and came out wiping his mouth—completely ignoring them both.

Play hard to get. Let him sweat.

In and out in under five minutes. Gu Mengran walked off, leaving behind a dumbfounded Grandpa and a visibly crushed Liang Zhao.

Knock knock knock, knock knock—“Rise and shine, Zheng Yijie! Time to get to work!” Back at Zheng Yijie’s door, Gu Mengran knocked politely.

No response came from behind the door. Gu Mengran twisted the handle and stepped in—only to find the bed occupied not by a person, but by what looked like an enormous, tightly wrapped silkworm cocoon.

Without a word, he marched over and yanked at the blanket. It didn’t budge. So he gave the lump a solid slap and scoffed, “Cut it out. I know you’re awake. Get up.”

Two eyes had barely opened before more farm labor was already looming. Zheng Yijie stayed curled up under the covers, pretending to be dead.

Too bad for him—another heavy slap landed square on his back.

“Ah—!” he hissed through gritted teeth, still buried in the blankets. “Have mercy, bro! It’s been three days! Can I have one day off?”

“Nope. It’s only drizzling today—perfect time to get some actual work done.”

“Work, work, it’s always work! I’m not going!”

Gu Mengran wasn’t interested in negotiating. He kicked off his slippers, climbed straight onto the bed, and started peeling him out of the blanket like he was unwrapping an onion. Zheng Yijie was way too small to stand a chance. In under two minutes, Gu Mengran had him dragged out and exposed to the cold, cruel world.

Clinging to the bed like it was his last lifeline, Zheng Yijie shot him a death glare through dark eye bags. “Why’s it always me?! Go bully your precious Liang Zhao instead!”

Sliding his feet back into his slippers, Gu Mengran tossed the blanket onto a chair and raised his chin coolly. “Not joking. Rain’s light today—we’ve gotta fix those deep pits on the outer panels.”

“Could’ve said so earlier.” Zheng Yijie bolted upright and ran a hand through his messy hair. “Fixing Windwing is actually important. But just the two of us? We’ll be there forever. What, you’re not calling in your man Liang Zhao?”

Gu Mengran blinked. “My—Liang Zhao—”

Speak of the devil. He’d barely gotten the name out when the door, which was only half-shut, creaked open. A tall figure stood just outside in the dim hallway. The light was behind him, so his face wasn’t visible, but somehow, Gu Mengran had the strangest feeling he looked… hurt.

God knows how long he’d been standing there.

Before either of them could speak, Liang Zhao stepped inside and looked at Gu Mengran. “I’m coming too. It might pour again tomorrow—we should finish everything today while we can.”

“Exactly!” Zheng Yijie jumped in, nodding like he’d just been saved.

Gu Mengran didn’t say anything—he just smiled quietly and pulled three raincoats out of his space.

The Windwing had taken several hits, leaving multiple dents along the outer hull. The worst of them was from that first full-force collision, which had turned what was originally a slightly curved metal panel into a three-meter-wide, over-a-meter-deep steel crater.

Fortunately, the hull wasn’t torn—just warped. All they needed was the right tools to reshape it. And Gu Mengran had prepared in advance, bringing a hydraulic stretcher specifically designed for hull repairs.

The only problem? The thing was expensive, and he’d only managed to get one.

With the drizzle still falling, the three of them suited up in raincoats and headed for the open deck. They lowered a soft emergency ladder alongside the dented section of the hull.

Determined to be the first to “take the plunge,” Gu Mengran ignored Liang Zhao’s protests. He clipped a safety harness over his raincoat and began his descent down the ladder, step by careful step.

At first, everything went smoothly. He made it to the right spot, swaying slightly in the wind, and Zheng Yijie and Liang Zhao used a rope to lower the hydraulic stretcher down to him.

The moment he caught it, Gu Mengran regretted everything. It didn’t look that big, but the damn thing was heavy. On flat ground, he could carry it just fine. But suspended midair, trying to hold up what felt like a fifty-kilo metal boulder—his arms started burning in minutes.

But there was no turning back now. Clenching his teeth, Gu Mengran hung there for a full half hour, managing to fix a few of the smaller dents. By the time he climbed back up the ladder, his arms were so dead he nearly lost his grip halfway up.

He didn’t say a word about how exhausted he was. Once back on deck, he just muttered, “This is too inefficient,” then immediately pulled out the walkie-talkie and radioed the old man to head to the cockpit and operate the crane.

With the mechanical arm lowering their diesel boat into place, Zheng Yijie took the second shift and spent an hour suspended midair without issue. Then came the final act—Liang Zhao.

And it seemed like he was trying to prove something. Once he was down there, he refused to come back up until he’d fully repaired the entire side of the hull.

The whole process was draining and time-consuming. By the time they finished one side, the sky was already getting dark.

No one knew what the weather would be like tomorrow, so they figured they might as well take advantage of the light drizzle while it lasted. Without wasting time, the three of them hurried to the other side of the ship.

Thankfully, this side was way easier. They didn’t even need the crane—Heng Rong Shen 2, docked next to them, was loaded with cargo and sat lower than the Windwing. Its deck lined up perfectly with the damaged areas, so they could fix things while standing directly on it.

And… they had helpful neighbors too.

Maybe it was because the three of them looked so pitiful working in the rain, but not long after they started—before they’d even managed to fix a single dent—Xu Xingran and Xu Xinghe came out wearing raincoats and rolled up their sleeves without hesitation to help.

They were exhausted, and Gu Mengran didn’t have it in him to turn them away. Instead, he quietly stepped aside and radioed the old man inside, asking him to whip up a few more dishes so they could thank the siblings properly with dinner.

The old man agreed right away. Gu Mengran, still in a bit of a fog from all the work, didn’t think to clarify any further. It wasn’t until he returned to the group that it hit him—when it came to cooking these days, you had to be careful. Some dishes just shouldn’t be served.

Unfortunately, he didn’t get another chance to warn the old man. Xu Xinghe, ever the extrovert, stuck to him like glue, chatting nonstop. The whole group kept working until nine in the evening. Most likely, the other household hadn’t cooked either, so Gu Mengran had no choice but to bite the bullet and officially invite the siblings to stay for dinner.

Xu Xingran was polite and immediately waved her hands. “Oh, no need! We barely helped at all—just wanted to see what was going on. Xu Yuan’s probably cooking back home. We’ll just head back and eat there.”

But before Gu Mengran could respond, Zheng Yijie—sweating from head to toe—rushed in, “Come on, sister! Bring your little brother too. We’ve been neighbors this long and haven’t even had a meal together. Come on, just this once!”

“Yeah, sister, don’t say no!” Xu Xinghe jumped in, clearly thrilled by the idea. “I’ll go grab Xu Yuan. Let’s all eat together, yeah?”

Faced with their double-team persuasion, Xu Xingran finally relented, a bit flustered as she gave Gu Mengran a glance. “Then… sorry for the trouble.”

“No trouble at all,” Gu Mengran said with a smile.

Please let Grandpa know what he’s doing, he silently prayed, starting to get nervous. He led the guests inside with no small amount of anxiety. The moment they stepped in, his hopes sank.

The old man kind of understood the assignment—but not quite. At least he’d cleared the living room of anything too suspicious, like fresh fruit, milk, and bread. But the dining table? Absolutely packed. Crispy fried pork, sweet and sour ribs, cola chicken wings…

Gu Mengran stepped into the dining room and practically blacked out. Behind him, the Xu siblings stared wide-eyed, expressions stuck somewhere between disbelief and awe.

The smell of meat filled the air. Xu Xinghe, hand trembling, pointed toward the table, then slowly turned his head toward Gu Mengran. “B-Brother Gu… what is this? How do you guys… how do you still have meat?”

Gu Mengran: …yeah, he had absolutely no idea what kind of excuse to make right now.

Just when Gu Mengran was completely at a loss, the old man appeared from the hallway, carrying a case of beer and calling out cheerfully to the guests, “You’re here! What are you all standing around for? Sit down, sit down—food’s gonna get cold.”

But curiosity had beaten out appetite. No one moved to sit. The Xu siblings turned to look at the old man, eyes filled with questions.

He set the beer by the corner of the table and looked up to find everyone staring at him. His brows furrowed slightly. “What’s wrong? You don’t like the food?”

“No, no, that’s not it!” Xu Xinghe quickly waved his hands and rushed to explain, “I’m just curious, Grandpa Meng… how do you still have all this?”

Meng Gaoyang glanced at the table, then chuckled as if suddenly realizing the issue. “Ah, that? Nothing strange about it! Our Windwing used to be a floating supermarket, right? We sold everything—groceries, meat, you name it.”

“After the quake, I froze all the fresh meat we had left. We’ve been rationing, so we still have plenty in storage. Got a few big freezers down in the hold—chicken wings, drumsticks, shrimp dumplings, fish balls… you can take a few bags home with you later.”

“Oh no, that’s okay!” Xu Xinghe waved both hands even more furiously, then pointed to the kung pao chicken and stir-fried romaine on the table. “But what about these dishes, Grandpa Meng? Can things like lettuce and stem lettuce really keep that long in the freezer?”

Without skipping a beat, the old man replied calmly, “Oh, those? Pre-packaged meals.”

Pre-packaged? Pre-packaged meals looked like this? That romaine looked like it had just been picked fresh from the field! Xu Xinghe opened his mouth, wanting to ask more, but he’d already asked several questions. They were being treated to a meal, after all—pressing for more would just be rude.

As if sensing his hesitation, the old man lifted his chin and shook his head with a helpless smile. “My grandson, Mengran? He doesn’t like my cooking. Always preferred takeout. But you can’t exactly order takeout on a ship, so I had no choice but to stock up on pre-made meals. I even bought the expensive ones!”

“Gotta say, the pricey ones hit different. They claim to use some sort of ‘fresh-lock’ tech. I just heat it up and pour it onto a plate—ends up looking better than if I made it fresh.”

“Ohhh, now I get it!” Xu Xinghe looked enlightened. “That explains it.”

“Alright, alright—sit down and eat already!”

“Wow, what a feast! Thank you, Grandpa Meng!”

“No need for thanks—dig in, dig in!”

“Wait, Grandpa Meng’s cooking is this good and Brother Gu still doesn’t like it?”

Gu Mengran, the innocent victim of a food slander scandal: …

They were only halfway through dinner when a sharp horn blast echoed across the lake. Most people were caught off guard, jumping at the sudden noise. But Gu Mengran had a good guess who it was. He set down his chopsticks, threw on his raincoat, and hurried outside.

Liang Zhao, uneasy, followed him out. The two stood on the side deck, under the open sky, watching as a small white boat with a pointed bow drew steadily closer, bumping gently against the Windwing’s hull.

The rain had lightened, and this time, the visitors didn’t bother using a loudspeaker. Once the speedboat was docked, a man in a dark raincoat climbed out. He wasn’t tall—stocky to the point of being almost round—and had a surprisingly gentle voice, probably thanks to how the fat around his neck compressed his vocal cords.

“Hey,” he called up, tilting his head to look at the deck. “How’s it going on your boat? Anyone running a fever or getting rashes?”

The voice was soft, almost kindly, but Gu Mengran recognized it immediately. It was one of the men from that night.

The distance between them wasn’t far—one up high, one below. Gu Mengran leaned on the railing and shook his head. “Nope. As you can see, we’re doing fine. Everyone’s healthy.”

The man squinted up at them, giving the boat a once-over. “Then… have you decided?”

“Decided what?” Gu Mengran asked, not following.

“To leave… or to join us?”

Leave or join? Gu Mengran froze for a second, then answered with deliberate calm, “Do we have to join you? We’re just here temporarily. We’ll be moving on in a bit.”

“No. No way!” the man’s voice rose, but he didn’t sound confident. “Th-this is our territory. Only our people are allowed to stay here.”

Gu Mengran asked calmly, “And what do we get if we join you?”

“You work… and we feed you. You won’t go hungry.”

“And if we don’t?”

“Then I’m asking you to leave. Now.”

The more Gu Mengran listened, the weirder it sounded. Just a week ago, they’d been worried about outsiders bringing in disease—yet they hadn’t kicked them out. They’d even delivered food. But now that they’d passed quarantine and proven healthy, suddenly they wanted them gone?

Only two explanations made sense. Either something had changed—maybe more outsiders had shown up at Fengjin Lake—or they were short on manpower and using this tactic to recruit people.

Either way, Gu Mengran had no intention of leaving. They’d just gotten settled, and he wasn’t about to take his chances sailing off into the rain again. Still, he couldn’t afford to start a fight with the locals. He needed to figure out what was really going on here.

After a moment’s thought, Gu Mengran leaned over the railing again, wearing a conflicted expression. “Brother, I actually do want to join you guys. Honestly, we’re running low on food and we’re desperate for something to eat. But… we don’t even know what your setup is like. All you’ve said is that we won’t starve, but what if it’s not what we expect…”

“That’s easy,” the chubby man said, thumping his chest proudly. “Come with me right now. See it for yourself. We’ve got food, drinks—the whole deal. I promise, once you’re there, you won’t want to leave.”

“It’s really late,” Gu Mengran replied with a hint of hesitation. “How about we sleep on it? You come back tomorrow?”

The man nodded. “Alright. I’ll pick you up first thing in the morning.”

---

Previous Chapter | TOC | Next Chapter