Axolotl Translations

That evening, as usual, Zhang Huimin stopped by the Qiao household after work to pick up little Zeng Yi.

“Mommy!” The moment he saw his mother, little Zeng Yi lit up with excitement. He dashed toward her on his tiny legs, clinging to her leg as he eagerly chattered about everything he had done that day.

“Why are you home so late today?” Wei Jiajia asked, glancing at her friend.

“Oh, don’t even get me started! A new regiment commander just arrived recently, and she’s incredibly strict. She said some of our performances don’t align with the themes of the times and aren’t suitable for the military district, so she’s having us switch to model operas instead. The entire drama team has been in an uproar over it,” Zhang Huimin sighed. She had been held up at work precisely because the leadership had called a meeting to finalize the decision. At least now that the matter was settled, her schedule could return to normal. She sat down on the couch, holding her son’s little hand, and gratefully took the glass of water Wei Jiajia handed her.

Hearing that the new commander was so uncompromising, Wei Jiajia frowned slightly. At such a sensitive time, having a leader like this could be either good or bad. Fortunately, Zhang Huimin was only a vocal performer, and with her solid family background, she shouldn’t face any serious trouble.

“Have you eaten yet? If not, I still have food left over from dinner,” Wei Jiajia offered. Her husband had sent word earlier that he would be home late due to work, so she had eaten alone with the children, leaving plenty of leftovers.

“No need, I already ate at the troupe,” Zhang Huimin quickly declined when she saw Wei Jiajia about to get up.

Hearing this, Wei Jiajia sat back down and picked up her eldest son’s pants to mend them.

The children were still young and endlessly energetic. His brand-new pants had only been worn for a few days before the seat was already worn through. Since her great-aunt wasn’t home, Wei Jiajia had no choice but to pick up a needle and thread herself, albeit somewhat awkwardly.

A glance at her uneven stitches made it clear that this wasn’t something she did often. But thankfully, children weren’t picky—so long as there wasn’t a hole, they didn’t care about how it looked.

As Zhang Huimin glanced over at the five kids sprawled across the dining table doing their homework, she turned back to her friend and chuckled at the clumsy way she handled the needle. “You’ve had three kids, and you still don’t know how to sew? If word of this got out, the jealous wives in the compound would probably feel instantly reassured.”

After all, in the eyes of many, a woman who couldn’t even mend clothes was hardly a proper wife. People were bound to gossip.

Wei Jiajia shot her friend a sidelong glance but didn’t pause her stitching. With her head lowered, she retorted dryly, “Are you sure they wouldn’t just call me lazy while secretly dying of envy? They’d probably love nothing more than to trade places with me.”

She was well aware of how the women in the compound viewed her. Every time she ran into them, they might exchange polite greetings, but beneath their civil words, their jealousy practically oozed from their eyes. If she couldn’t see that, she’d have to be blind.

Zhang Huimin considered what Wei Jiajia had said and realized she was right. What woman wouldn’t want to be in her position? Loved and cherished by both her husband’s family and her own, treated like the apple of their eye even after marriage and motherhood—free to live as she pleased, carefree and unburdened. Even if others called her lazy, she could still be happy.

“By the way, how long is Grandma Wang staying away this time? Can you manage everything on your own without her?” Zhang Huimin asked.

Aunt Fen and Uncle Zhuzi had brought Xiangqing to visit Grandma Wang at the military district. When they left, she had gone back to Shencheng with them, saying that after so many years, she wanted to stay there for a while. But months had passed, and she still hadn’t returned.

With so many children to look after, Zhang Huimin worried whether Jiajia could manage everything alone. She was busy with her work in the art troupe and couldn’t help much, yet she still had to entrust her own child to Jiajia’s care. When Grandma Wang had been around, things were easier. Now that she wasn’t, Zhang Huimin couldn’t help but worry.

“Don’t worry, I can handle it. The kids are older now and more independent. Nuannuan and Yangyang help me take care of the four younger ones after school, and I don’t have much else to do at home. With them around, I’m never lonely,” Wei Jiajia replied with a smile.

“As for great-aunt, she’s been helping me with the kids for years. Now that Aunt Fen and the others have come, it’s only right for her to go home and spend some time there. She’s not young anymore, and she can’t keep worrying about us younger ones forever.”

At first, Jiajia had struggled to adjust to her absence, and the kids had been constantly asking for their grandmother. But they were still young, and their attention spans were short; within a few days, they had stopped mentioning her altogether.

Great-aunt Wang had come here solely to help Jiajia raise her children. Now that they were older and she wanted to go home, how could Wei Jiajia stop her? She had already done more than enough for her over the years.

Zhang Huimin nodded in understanding. It was never easy to leave one’s homeland, and the differences between the Northeast and Shencheng were significant—the climate, the environment, everything. Even she had struggled to adapt when she first arrived. Now that the children were grown, it made sense for Aunt Wang to finally let go. But it was tough on Jiajia.

By the time Qiao Haoyu returned home, the house was already dark. He washed up in the courtyard before stepping inside.

“You’re back?” Half-asleep, Wei Jiajia sensed someone beside her and instinctively nestled into his embrace, holding onto him as she groggily asked.

“Mm.” Qiao Haoyu looked down at his wife as she instinctively found a comfortable spot in his arms, her small head even nuzzling against him. He held her close and murmured softly before placing a gentle kiss on her head.

“Did you eat?” she asked. Given how late it was, he had probably eaten at the base.

“I did. Don’t worry,” Qiao Haoyu reassured her, patting her gently on the back. “Go back to sleep.”

Hearing his reassurance, Wei Jiajia finally relaxed and drifted off to sleep in her husband’s arms.

Qiao Haoyu held his sleeping wife, but his mind remained restless, unable to shake off the thoughts stirred by his father’s phone call earlier that day.

Just before he got off work, he had received a call from his father. It was the first time he had ever heard such weight in his father’s voice over the phone.

Because the call had to go through an operator, their conversation was brief. His father first inquired about Jiajia and the children, then provided updates on himself, his mother, and his grandfather. He also mentioned his older brother and some of their childhood friends from the courtyard in Beijing.

Then, almost casually, his father shifted the topic—advising them not to return to Beijing for the time being and to stay where they were. He assured them that when he and his wife had the time, they would come to visit instead.

On the surface, it all seemed like a perfectly normal conversation. But Qiao Haoyu understood his father too well—he grasped the underlying message. Something was changing again.

His father must have noticed something unusual in Beijing, which prompted him to make this call, urging caution. He was certain his father had also reached out to his older brother in the southwest.

For his father to disregard the risk of being overheard by the switchboard operator, and for even writing a letter to be too slow for the urgency of the matter—this was no small issue. But what exactly was happening in Beijing? The thought unsettled Qiao Haoyu. Were his parents in danger? Would this situation affect them as well?

By the time Wei Jiajia woke up the next morning, her husband was already gone. Even the lingering traces of his presence in the room had faded. But she was used to it—on the rare occasions when she woke up to find him still asleep, that was the real surprise.

She got up, tidied herself, and stepped out of the room.

“Sister, you’re up? Wash your face and come have breakfast!” Yangyang, carrying a bowl out of the kitchen, grinned when he saw her.

In the Qiao household, whoever woke up early and had time would make breakfast—it wasn’t assigned to just one person. Of course, the triplets were an exception. Even if they got up early, they were more likely to cause trouble than to be of any help in the kitchen. Cooking? That was still a long way off for them.

“Alright!” she replied.

Wei Jiajia, accustomed to the morning routine, turned and walked toward the backyard, intending to check on what the three little ones were up to. Their excited shouts could be heard from a distance.

As she stepped outside, she saw the children rummaging through the chicken coop for eggs. The hens had already been chased out, and her daughter was sprawled at the entrance of the coop, her small head almost entirely inside. Seeing this scene, Wei Jiajia couldn’t help but twitch her eyebrows.

“Mama!” Her youngest son, the most affectionate of the three, ran over and wrapped his arms around her leg, rubbing his little face against her in an affectionate gesture.

She crouched down with a smile, meeting him at eye level, and asked softly, “Did you find any eggs?”

“We did, Mama, look!” Her eldest son came running up, carefully cradling an egg in his tiny hands. His face was full of eager anticipation, waiting for her praise.

Wei Jiajia resisted the urge to glance at the chicken droppings smeared across the egg and instead exclaimed enthusiastically, “Wow! You guys are amazing! Once you finish gathering all the eggs, shall we take them inside and make scrambled eggs together?” She reached out to stroke both of her sons’ soft, fair cheeks, playing along with their excitement.

“Hehehe!” Flushed with pride at their mother’s praise, the two little boys giggled. The younger one, a bit shy, burrowed into his mother’s embrace, wrapping his arms around her neck and pressing his little face against her shoulder.

Holding onto his egg, the eldest son could only watch enviously as his younger brother snuggled into their mother’s arms. Noticing this, Wei Jiajia quickly stretched out her arm and pulled him into her embrace as well, hugging him from the other side. Only then did he break into a satisfied grin.

This was the challenge of having multiple children—you had to treat them all equally, making sure none felt left out. Otherwise, even at a young age, they might develop a sense of favoritism, which wouldn’t be healthy for their growth. For Wei Jiajia, their competition for affection was both a sweet burden and a responsibility.

Of course, this didn’t include the one still wrestling with the eggs in the coop.

At last, she emerged, her small hands gripping an egg in each. Her hair was a complete mess, with a lone chicken feather stuck in it. Seeing her mother, she beamed with the joy of a successful harvest and ran toward her in triumph.

“Mama, let’s go! Time for shrimp and scrambled eggs!” With that, she eagerly ran into the house, completely unconcerned that her brothers were still nestled in their mother’s embrace. Her mind was singularly focused on the thought of scrambled eggs.

Wei Jiajia: “…”

This child had nerves of steel—she never felt the need to compete for attention!

She sometimes wondered whether Qiao Haoyu’s insistence on prenatal military education had actually worked. Their daughter had never behaved like a typical girl. From a young age, she had been so energetic and mischievous that Wei Jiajia often had the urge to give her a firm smack on the backside. The only thing that hadn’t turned out as her father had hoped was her appearance. She was a perfect blend of both parents—her skin tone, face shape, and lips resembled her mother, while everything else was a carbon copy of her father. Her delicate features carried a natural air of confidence and strength.

This fact left Qiao Haoyu slightly disappointed, as he had always wished for a daughter who looked exactly like his wife. But while his dream wasn’t entirely fulfilled, he supposed he had still gotten what he wanted.

Just one look at their youngest son, clinging to his mother, made that clear. His features were an exact replica of Wei Jiajia’s, so much so that if no one mentioned it, people often mistook him for a little girl.

Even his soft, affectionate nature mirrored that of a gentle little girl.

Every time Qiao Haoyu saw his youngest son seeking affection from his mother, he felt an involuntary twitch in his brow. He never quite knew how to handle this child, who looked so much like his wife.

A boy with such a soft personality—nothing like a soldier’s son should be. And he was so strikingly beautiful. What would become of him in the future? Whenever Qiao Haoyu resolved to toughen him up, one look at that delicate little face made him hesitate.

What neither parent knew, however, was that their youngest son’s appearance was deceiving. While he acted sweet and fragile at home, he was anything but naive.

Only his twin siblings, Qiao Youhui and Qiao Aijia, knew his true nature. Every time they saw him playing the innocent, pitiful act in front of their parents, they would sigh deeply and look away, pretending not to see.

As for Qiao Youhui, he resembled their father even more—not just in appearance, but in personality as well. However, unlike his father at a young age, he enjoyed seeking affection from his mother.

Every day, he and his younger brother engaged in a constant battle for their mother’s attention. Their childish competition was something Qiao Aijia never bothered to take part in, which sometimes left Wei Jiajia feeling a little defeated. She couldn’t shake the feeling that her daughter and youngest son had swapped roles at birth.

Shaking her head, Wei Jiajia took both boys by the hand and led them into the house to wash up—especially to clean that egg smeared with chicken droppings. She had been enduring the sight of it for long enough!

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