Axolotl Translations

Heading out in a torrential downpour? Definitely not a smart move. The rain hammered down from above while the wind howled straight at them. Within three minutes of sitting in their leaky, wind-whipped “convertible” diesel boat, Gu Mengran was already soaked to the bone.

Not that the others fared any better. The sibling duo’s diesel boat followed close behind, and having learned their lesson from yesterday, they ditched the raincoats like Gu Mengran’s crew and chose to brave the storm bare-skinned. Sure, they got drenched faster—but at least they didn’t have to wrestle with clumsy plastic flapping around. It was wet, but manageable.

The real disaster? Zheng Yijie, kitted out in full rain gear—coat, hood, the whole nine yards. As the boat moved forward, the headwind whipped his hood back in seconds, leaving the chin strap digging painfully into his neck. He was gasping and struggling to steer, tugging at the strap while the wind slapped the oversized raincoat into his face, completely blinding him. His boat started drifting off course fast.

Just then, the lead boat pulled a graceful U-turn, like a dragon flicking its tail, kicking up silver waves as it slid in close to the straggler. Gu Mengran, sitting by the edge, reached out and peeled the raincoat off Zheng Yijie’s face—saving his poor life just in time.

Meanwhile, the nonstop rain poured down like a waterfall. The hills by the lake looked like melting ice cream, starting to slump under the weight of water. The three small boats finally arrived at the foot of the mountain. Without a word, they grabbed shovels and spades and got to work digging up mud.

The rain-soaked soil was easy enough to dig through, but the sheer amount they needed made it exhausting. Five people dug nonstop, the boats running back and forth. By the end of the morning, they all looked like walking mud sculptures.

The muddy water couldn’t be loaded into the cargo holds just like that. After lunch, they sorted the piles of sludge stacked like little mountains beneath the eaves. Gu Mengran pulled out a stash of foam fruit boxes from his space, lined each one with plastic to prevent leaks, and packed the mud in.

The boxes were moved down to the first-floor marketplace. Then, dragging their exhausted bodies back to the deck, the trio hosed off the muddy boats and scrubbed the decks clean with a high-pressure water gun.

They hadn’t even planted anything yet, and the prep work was already killing them. As he rinsed the last bit of sludge off the deck and into the lake, Gu Mengran turned the water pressure down and gave himself a quick spray. His skin was pruny from all the rain, his fingertips shriveled like raisins.

Tossing the hose back under the eaves, Gu Mengran wiped the rain from his face and waved at Liang Zhao standing nearby. “Just give yourself a quick rinse—this rain’ll do most of the work anyway. Come on, let’s go shower and change!”

Before Liang Zhao could respond, Zheng Yijie was already dragging the hose behind him, stomping back under the eaves while grumbling, “What the hell did I do in a past life to deserve this? Feels like I’ve been stewing in water all day—I’m gonna end up looking like some freakin’ waterlogged mutant.” He tossed the pressure washer aside and shouted at the top of his lungs, “Let’s go, Liang Zhao!”

“What’s the rush?” Gu Mengran chuckled nearby. “Hold off on that shower for now.”

Zheng Yijie looked genuinely panicked. “Wait, why?!”

Out of the corner of his eye, Gu Mengran saw Liang Zhao walking over. He turned the doorknob and stepped inside, then stood in the doorway rummaging through his space: grow lights, foam boxes, waterproof tarps, seeds of all kinds… Finally, he tossed a couple of gardening trowels into a box and nodded toward Zheng Yijie. “Here. Take this over to Heng Rong Sheng. Show him how to get started.”

It was a lot of stuff. Dozens of foam boxes stacked into a mini mountain—at least three or four trips’ worth. Gu Mengran, fully expecting complaints, waited for the grumbling to start. But to his surprise, Zheng Yijie simply let out a quiet “Mm,” and crouched down to start organizing the supplies.

Gu Mengran raised a brow, suspicious. “You’re being unusually cooperative today.”

“You’re the boss of this place. If you tell me to run errands, how could I say no?” Zheng Yijie replied without looking up, stuffing grow lights and seeds into the foam boxes.

“Oh yeah?” Gu Mengran arched an eyebrow. “You make it sound like I’m bullying you. Fine, go take your shower. I’ll drop the stuff off.” He reached for the box in Zheng Yijie’s hands, but the guy jerked back so fast you’d think he was dodging a snake. Clutching the box tightly, he awkwardly rubbed the bridge of his nose. “N-no, it’s fine. You and Liang Zhao go clean up. I’ve got this.”

“There’s way too much for one person. I’ll come with you.”

“No, seriously—it’s fine. I’ll just make a few more trips.”

Not getting anywhere, Gu Mengran fell silent and simply stared at him. Zheng Yijie, feeling increasingly uneasy under that stare, blinked and looked away. “What?”

“Who’s over at Heng Rong Sheng’s place right now?” Gu Mengran took a small step to the side, angling his gaze until he was face-to-face with Zheng Yijie, locking eyes with him.

Zheng Yijie’s head drooped lower and lower. The tips of his ears had turned bright red.

That reaction… Gu Mengran’s brows furrowed. A vague suspicion began forming in his mind. He let out a long sigh, rubbed his temples, and asked uncertainly, “You… have a crush on one of the girls on the other boat?”

There was no need for an answer. The way Zheng Yijie’s ears flushed deep red said everything.

Troublesome. Gu Mengran rubbed his brow again and clicked his tongue helplessly. “Zheng Yijie, I’m not here to police your love life, but that girl can’t be more than eighteen. You’re, what, twenty-five or twenty-six? Isn’t that a little… young for you?”

Zheng Yijie’s head snapped up, eyes wide with shock. “Eighteen? What the hell—she’s only a few months younger than me!”

“She’s not Xu Yuan?” Gu Mengran blinked, then realization dawned. His eyes went wide as saucers, mouth gaping like he’d swallowed an egg whole. “Wait—Xu Xingran?!”

“Mind your own business! Go take your damn shower!” Flustered, Zheng Yijie scrambled to cover the supplies with a tarp, then—with his face still bright red—grabbed a stack of foam boxes and fled the cabin like a man escaping a crime scene.

Gu Mengran stood there in a daze. Huh. Tables really do turn… never thought I’d be on the receiving end of the drama for once.

After showering and changing into clean clothes, Gu Mengran stepped out feeling refreshed. Liang Zhao was already waiting for him at the door. Neither had dried their hair, but they headed to the first-floor hall to plan out their makeshift “farm.”

The space was more than big enough—those dozens of foam planters would fit easily. But for the sake of aesthetics and practicality, Gu Mengran decided on a layout: four boxes across the entrance, with rows extending back, and at least half a meter of space around each box. Even though they already had double protection—foam boxes lined with plastic—just in case any water leaked through, Gu Mengran pulled out a large waterproof tarp and helped Liang Zhao lay it across the floor.

Planning was the easy part. Doing the actual work? Absolutely exhausting. Each box of mud, complete with water and sludge, weighed dozens of kilos. Hauling them back and forth, adjusting angles and spacing… it wasn’t long before Gu Mengran’s back was screaming and he could barely straighten up.

And it wasn’t over yet. The old man working on the lighting setup had made slow progress. He’d just finished wiring things up, and the sun was already going down. No time to rest—Gu Mengran and Liang Zhao downed a couple sips of water and immediately climbed up the folding ladder to start installing the lights.

But their efforts paid off. Two hours later, Gu Mengran flicked the switch, and the grow lights embedded in the ceiling lit up all at once—like the soft golden glow of sunset shining through glass, warm and brilliant.

Their moment of satisfaction lasted only a few minutes before the rising temperature caught Gu Mengran’s attention. He suddenly remembered—there were still drums of diesel stored in the back of the hall! In a rush, he and Liang Zhao hauled the fuel barrels back into his space and replaced them with a few empty ones as camouflage.

Dusk had fallen and the sky was growing darker. Gu Mengran wiped the sweat from his brow as he walked out of the hall. He gathered up the scattered tools piled near the door and stowed them back into his space. Then he flopped to the ground with a hot breath of exhaustion.

“That should be just about everything, right? Anything left to do?” They wouldn’t be planting today. The mud they’d dug up in the storm was still too wet—way too much moisture. It needed time to dry out, or else the seeds would just rot.

As for the rest… the old man was still thinking when he looked down and caught sight of Gu Mengran panting, clearly worn out. A flash of concern passed through his eyes. “Alright, alright, that’s enough. There’s nothing left. You two go upstairs and rest. Sitting on the floor like that—what kind of look is that?”

“No rush. Let me sit for a minute first.” Gu Mengran waved him off and leisurely pulled out three bottles of mineral water from his space, handing one each to Liang Zhao and his grandfather. He was parched. Gu Mengran eagerly twisted the cap open and was just about to take a drink when an itchy sensation crept up his nose. He sniffed and tried to hold it back—but failed.

“—Achoo! ACHOO!” The two thunderous sneezes echoed through the hall, loud enough to shake the walls. Water from his freshly opened bottle splashed everywhere as he jerked. Liang Zhao moved quickly, grabbing it from his hands before more spilled. The old man, mid-sip, paused and looked down at Gu Mengran.

“What did I tell you this morning? I told you to wear a raincoat, but nooo, you wouldn’t listen. Look what happened—caught a cold, didn’t you? Honestly, you treat your body like it’s disposable!”

Gu Mengran was long used to this kind of ‘concern’ from the older generation. He rubbed his nose and gave his grandfather an innocent look. “The rain was too heavy. Wouldn’t have mattered what I wore. You didn’t see Zheng Yijie—he had a raincoat and still looked like a drowned rat.”

“Go upstairs and take some medicine later,” the old man muttered, heart aching for his grandson. He glanced out the window at the pounding rain, sighing heavily. “This damn weather is such a pain. If I’d known earlier… Wait. Don’t you have a ton of soil in your space? Why didn’t you just use that?”

Gu Mengran froze mid-motion, going stiff all over. “…Oh crap, you’re right! If the spring water works, the soil should work too!”

“Tsk tsk tsk. You had it ready to go and still went out digging in the rain? Poor kid—young and already losing brain cells.” The old man gave him a look of complex disappointment.

Liang Zhao cleared his throat, stepping in to defend him. “It’s not that simple. You still have to dig some mud outside. It’s just a matter of how much. There are people watching, after all.”

“Exactly! If we suddenly had piles of soil without ever leaving the boat, people would start asking questions,” Gu Mengran straightened up, looking proud and justified.

Outnumbered, the old man gave a grumpy pout and kept quiet. Gu Mengran grinned and tugged at his grandfather’s hand. “If you hadn’t brought it up, I’d have totally forgotten. Since we’re on the topic, why don’t we run a little experiment?”

“What kind of experiment?” the old man perked up, clearly intrigued. Gu Mengran’s smile faded. His expression turned serious as he spoke with gravity, “The soil inside the space is… special. At least, it’s special inside the space. No fertilizer, no weeding, and the seeds still grow just fine. If we try planting a few boxes of it out here and the results are the same… That soil could turn out to be a lifesaver when it really counts.”

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