Axolotl Translations

When he heard the system senior’s voice, Ruan Zhao seemed to finally realize that there were others present—that it wasn’t just him and Chu Xinglan in the world. Blushing, he gently pushed the young man away after holding him for only a brief moment.

Once again, the system sternly reminded Ruan Zhao that its existence must remain a secret. 【Not even Chu Xinglan can know.】

So, Ruan Zhao repeated the same excuse, coaxing Chu Xinglan with a carefully crafted lie. He said that a powerful senior, passing by, had witnessed the chaos and intervened, slaying the demonic cultivator before vanishing without a trace.

There were barely any signs of a fight inside the cave. Chu Xinglan looked around and eventually spotted the remains of the demonic cultivator not far away—a heap of black-gray ash, as if scorched by flames.

Not only was the demonic cultivator killed, but even his soul had been obliterated—nothing remained, not even dust. Such a devastating blow could only be dealt by a cultivator in the Nascent Soul stage or higher.

Perhaps, it really had been a great master, traveling through the area, who happened upon the scene and struck the evildoer down in passing. Chu Xinglan had no reason to doubt it.

He took Ruan Zhao, along with the injured girls, back to Yunzhou City. He returned each girl safely to her family.

The girls’ families were endlessly grateful, showering them with thanks and gifts.

Ruan Zhao stood quietly behind Chu Xinglan, as always, silently observing the admiration and gratitude directed at him.

Even though Chu Xinglan had explained more than once that he hadn’t been the one to destroy the demonic cultivator—that the man was already dead when he entered the cave—the people simply didn’t seem to hear. They continued praising him all the same.

They praised him as a rising talent, already possessing such profound cultivation at such a young age. They praised his courage, for daring to charge alone into a demonic cultivator’s lair. They praised his noble bearing and handsome features, his graceful demeanor that made him stand apart from the crowd, simply by standing still.

Any praise you could think of—they gave them all. Their gratitude was just a pretense. What they really wanted was to curry favor. The top disciple of Guiyuan Sect, the young master of the Upper Realm’s Chu family—those two titles alone were enough to make countless people fall over themselves in flattery.

Chu Xinglan didn’t listen for long. His face darkened, and he pulled Ruan Zhao away.

“Wait a moment.” A soft, gentle voice called out behind them.

Chu Xinglan furrowed his brows, clear annoyance flickering across his face. He didn’t stop walking—instead, he tugged Ruan Zhao along even faster, clearly not wanting to get entangled further.

“Miss, please wait!” the voice called again, louder this time, tinged with urgency. “I have something I wish to say to you.”

Miss…? …Was she talking to me?

Ruan Zhao turned back, confused. Sure enough, a young girl had come running up, delicately lifting her skirts as she chased after them.

“Miss…” Her gaze was fixed squarely on Ruan Zhao. When he turned to her in surprise, her eyes darted away, and her cheeks flushed a soft pink. Her voice trembled slightly as she said, “You saved my life from that demonic cultivator, and I haven’t yet had the chance to thank you.”

Ruan Zhao’s eyes lowered to her wrist. His initial confusion slowly turned into understanding. “It was nothing,” he replied. “In a situation like that, anyone would have stepped in. There’s no need to dwell on it.”

The girl’s lashes fluttered. “…But you were the only one who did.”

“I don’t come from a noble background, and I don’t have anything worthy to repay your kindness…” she said, pulling a small bundle from her sleeve—a jade bracelet wrapped carefully in a handkerchief. “This bracelet has some value. Please, don’t think too little of it.”

Ruan Zhao immediately raised his hands to decline. “No, no, please keep it. I don’t want it.”

Her eyes turned red. “Miss, please… take it. If you don’t, I truly don’t know how I’ll ever repay you.”

Ruan Zhao felt a bit of a headache coming on. “I really don’t need it—you’re being too kind.”

But the girl insisted on giving it to him, and he had no choice but to push it back again. The two went back and forth for a little too long.

Chu Xinglan quietly stepped between them, inserting himself into the space without a word. He turned to the girl still clinging on, his voice cold. “Didn’t you hear what she said? She said she doesn’t want it.”

The girl’s eyes reddened even more. Her lashes fluttered slightly, and a single tear slid down her cheek. She twisted the handkerchief in her fingers, clearly embarrassed and distressed.

Ruan Zhao glanced at Chu Xinglan with a frown of disapproval. He thought the boy’s tone was far too blunt, too cold—couldn’t he see he’d just scared the poor girl into crying?

Chu Xinglan caught the look, and his face turned even colder. A chill seemed to radiate from him. He turned his head, as if he wanted nothing more to do with the situation—but he didn’t budge an inch, remaining planted firmly between them.

No matter how the girl shifted left or right, Chu Xinglan blocked her every time, stopping her from getting anywhere near Ruan Zhao. She shot him a subtle glare and twisted the handkerchief in her hands even harder.

So annoying! I was just trying to speak to my savior, and this guy just barges in like he owns the place! So irritating! Why did he have to be so tall anyway? I can’t even see my benefactor’s face now!

Eventually, Ruan Zhao decided Chu Xinglan was getting in the way. He tugged him to his side to clear the space between them.

The moment Ruan Zhao looked at the girl again, she seemed to switch faces like flipping a script—her expression softened, she sniffled sweetly, playing up the pitiful act to perfection. “If you truly don’t wish to accept it, then… I’ll say no more.”

She bowed deeply, eyes shimmering with tears. “Such a kindness—I have nothing to repay it with. May I be born again in the next life, just to serve you as a humble beast of burden.”

Ruan Zhao received her bow awkwardly, unsure how to respond.

Chu Xinglan cut in, voice icy: “Is there anything else?”

The girl shrank back instinctively, intimidated by the force of his presence. She shook her head without thinking.

“Then we’ll be on our way. We’ve got other matters to attend to.” Before he even finished speaking, Chu Xinglan grabbed Ruan Zhao by the wrist and strode off without looking back.

……

Ruan Zhao looked puzzled. “She’s just a young girl. She’s already been through a lot—why were you so harsh with her?”

Chu Xinglan responded slowly, each word deliberate. “She’s two-faced. Putting on an act.”

Ruan Zhao frowned. “You’re imagining things.”

Chu Xinglan: “……”

The boy suddenly lowered his lashes, his voice soft. “Zhaozhao, I’m injured too.” He lifted his sleeve, revealing a deep, bone-deep wound along his arm.

Ruan Zhao’s eyes trembled at the sight. In an instant, all irrelevant thoughts were cast aside. He inhaled sharply, reaching out instinctively—only to withdraw his hand the next second, too startled to touch it.

“How did you get hurt this badly? Was it the demonic cultivator?”

The boy didn’t answer, just kept his gaze lowered.

The demon cultivator had known from the start that he couldn’t win in a fair fight. Going head-to-head, he wouldn’t have gained even the slightest advantage—let alone kidnap Ruan Zhao right under Chu Xinglan’s nose. So instead, he’d chosen a different path.

The Illusory Heart Blossom, which only bloomed once every thousand years in Myriad Flower Valley, combined with his unfailing signature technique—the Bewildering Array. Together, even a Nascent Soul stage cultivator would find it hard to break free in a short time.

How could a young cultivator like Chu Xinglan, all clarity and purity, have encountered such underhanded tricks before? Even with his guard up, he still fell into the trap. To stay conscious… he’d had no choice but to carve a deep gash into his own arm.

He used to believe that as long as he cultivated hard and honed his sword skills, he could break through all obstacles with a single strike—to protect the one he loved. But in the end… it wasn’t enough. The truth was, he still wasn’t strong enough.

Ruan Zhao whispered, “Does it… hurt?”

Chu Xinglan pursed his lips. “…It hurts.”

“Where’s your medicine?” Ruan Zhao asked. “The one you gave me before.”

Chu Xinglan’s gaze flickered slightly. “Gone.”

“You only had one?”

Chu Xinglan averted his eyes. “Mm.”

“What about other healing medicine?”

Chu Xinglan retrieved a small bottle of wound powder from his storage ring. “This is all I’ve got left.”

Ruan Zhao: “…” I give up.

He accepted it with resignation, opened the bottle, and carefully sprinkled the powder over Chu Xinglan’s wound.

Chu Xinglan’s face remained unreadable. Only when Ruan Zhao happened to glance at him did he frown slightly, revealing a trace of pain.

Once the medicine was applied, Ruan Zhao stretched out his hand toward him.

Chu Xinglan blinked. “…?”

“Where’s the cloth to wrap the wound?”

Chu Xinglan: “Didn’t buy any.”

Ruan Zhao didn’t even blink. “Then tear off a piece from your robe.”

Chu Xinglan glanced at the hem of Ruan Zhao’s skirt. There were clearly signs it had already been torn. The edges were jagged and uneven.

“You used your own clothes to bandage someone else. But for me, you want me to rip my own robe?”

Ruan Zhao: “…Fine.” No point arguing with an injured man.

With a practiced motion, he tore another long strip of silk from his skirt and began wrapping Chu Xinglan’s arm—layer by layer—then tied it off with a neat knot.

Chu Xinglan began again: “That’s not right.”

Ruan Zhao looked up at him, gaze asking: What’s wrong now?

With utmost seriousness, Chu Xinglan replied, “You should tie it into a butterfly knot.”

We’re really comparing this too? She was a delicate young girl—of course Ruan Zhao tried to make it look pretty. Who would’ve thought Chu Xinglan cared about that too.

Left with no choice, Ruan Zhao undid the plain knot and retied it, this time into a neat, elegant butterfly bow. The ends of the silk fluttered lightly in the breeze, looking for all the world like wings ready to take flight.

After the long ordeal of the night, dawn had already broken. Ruan Zhao, exhausted, went back to the inn to catch up on sleep.

The moment he lay down, Chu Xinglan entered the room. The young man sat down silently on a bench, back turned to him.

“Go ahead and sleep. I’ll keep watch.”

Ruan Zhao knew he was worried—last night had been intense, and could very well have left lingering trauma. So he didn’t argue and let him stay.

He slept through the day and into dusk. When he awoke, the sky outside was tinged with twilight.

Chu Xinglan hadn’t moved an inch. He sat exactly as he had before, posture perfectly straight. Only when Ruan Zhao stirred did he turn around slowly.

“Zhaozhao,” he said gently, “you’re awake? Hungry? What do you feel like eating?”

Ruan Zhao had just woken, still a little dazed. His pale eyes, tinged with the softness of sleep, stared at Chu Xinglan for a while. Lips slightly parted, he murmured softly: “…I want porridge.”

Chu Xinglan answered gently, “Alright.”

Ruan Zhao added slowly, “The one from yesterday’s tavern.”

“Brother, can you go buy it for me? I don’t want to move.”

Chu Xinglan didn’t respond immediately. He only lowered his gaze, looking at Ruan Zhao in silence. His fair face revealed no clear expression.

“I’ll have someone else get it for you.”

Ruan Zhao blinked. “…Okay.”

Truthfully, he just wanted to send Chu Xinglan away for a while. Because the senior system had told him—the cultivation technique suitable for furnace bodies could only be transmitted when he was alone.

But Chu Xinglan was sticking to him like glue lately. He’d have to find another opportunity later.

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