Axolotl Translations

Time seemed to freeze in that moment, and the air itself felt like it had turned solid. Neither of them moved. The room was so quiet, you could’ve heard a pin drop.

Ruan Zhao silently counted from one to ten in his head, then from ten back down to one. He figured it was about time—enough to satisfy the system’s requirements.

No longer holding back, he dove straight into Chu Xinglan’s arms. His arms wrapped around the other’s waist, and he tilted his face up to meet his gaze, studying him for a moment.

Then the corners of his lips lifted in a small, sweet smile as he softened his voice. “I think we’ve had enough time to cool off… let’s get back together.”

Gone was the overbearing, sharp-tongued version of him. Now, smiling like this, he was soft, adorable—voice sweet enough to drip with honey.

Chu Xinglan was momentarily stunned. Before he even realized what he was doing, his fingertips reached out and gently pinched Ruan Zhao’s cheek, catching a bit of that soft, warm skin between his fingers. It was soft—and smooth—so tender it felt like it might slip away if he wasn’t careful. He couldn’t bear to pinch too hard.

Sensing the slight loosening of Chu Xinglan’s grip, Ruan Zhao quickly grabbed his hand, not letting him pull away. “You pinched my cheek, so now you have to agree to my request,” he mumbled, his words a little muffled because of how his cheek was squished. “I’ve decided. We’re back together now. No one’s going to split us up again.”

Chu Xinglan let out a soft chuckle. “Alright,” he said. “Whatever you say.”

The system, busy compressing and uploading data in the background: [………]

Unbelievable. These two clingy lovebirds are seriously something else.

……

Now that the mission was finally over, Ruan Zhao no longer had to force himself to say cruel words he didn’t mean, no longer had to hurt the person he liked under false pretenses. It was like a huge weight off his shoulders—even the air seemed fresher somehow.

But deep down, a lingering unease remained. He couldn’t help but ask the system—now that the breakup act with Chu Xinglan was over, there wouldn’t be any more trouble ahead, right?

The system hesitated for a brief second, then answered firmly: [Of course not.]

After a while, the system sent them its most heartfelt blessing yet: [You two will be together forever.]

……

The wedding was set for the sixteenth of the month after next—giving them a full two months to prepare.

Not that there was much to prepare, really. Ruan Zhao had already made up his mind that he didn’t want anyone to know about it. He wasn’t particularly close with anyone in Guiyuan Sect. In all the time he’d been living here, he could count the people he actually knew on one hand.

One was Jiang Yu—Chu Xinglan’s senior sister—one of the sect’s most notorious marriage enthusiasts. Every time she ran into Chu Xinglan, she would find a way to drop hints, asking when the two of them planned to get married. When Chu Xinglan finally told her they were going to hold a private ceremony without inviting anyone else, she sighed over it for ages, clearly disappointed.

The other was Ye Qingwe —someone Ruan Zhao had completely won over with a few boxes of pastries. Whenever she had some free time, she would head up to Ruan Zhao’s place on Ruyun Peak to hang out. Ye Qingwei was also the second person to discover Ruan Zhao’s true gender.

After confessing the truth to Chu Xinglan, Ruan Zhao had stopped wearing skirts or styling his hair like a girl. These days, he wore Chu Xinglan’s old clothes—disciple robes from a few years ago that no longer fit him. The first time Ye Qingwei saw him like that, she almost mistook him for Chu Xinglan.

At the time, Ruan Zhao had been watering a newly planted peach sapling with a small wooden bucket. The water was drawn from a spring at the foot of the mountain—rich with spiritual energy—something he had gone down and carried back all by himself early that morning, without asking for Chu Xinglan’s help.

He really was stubborn like that. The bucket had been full when he started, but the mountain paths were rough, and some of it had spilled along the way. The rest, well—it was heavy, his hands hurt, and he secretly watered a few wildflowers by the roadside just to lighten the load. By the time he made it back, there was only half a bucket left.

Ruan Zhao gave the bucket a gentle shake, ripples spreading across the clear water. Even from a little distance away, you could catch the sweetness of the spring water in the air. He roughly calculated in his head—half a ladle for each tree should do it. Not much, but it was something. It was his way of showing he cared.

And so… “You guys better grow up quickly,” Ruan Zhao murmured, running his hand over the slender trunk. His voice was soft, filled with hope. “Bloom with the prettiest flowers, and bear the sweetest peaches.”

……

Ye Qingwei had nothing to do today—so naturally, she wandered over to find Ruan Zhao, hoping to snack and hang out. There was always something good to eat at his place, and without fail, she’d stuff herself so full she could barely walk home.

She wondered if maybe, just maybe… there might be one of those braised pork knuckles from Yuncui Pavilion today. She’d had one a couple of days ago and hadn’t stopped thinking about it since. It had even made an appearance in her dreams—a pork knuckle brought to life, flying straight into her mouth.

No, no—she couldn’t think about it. The more she thought about it, the hungrier she got. Swallowing back her drool, Ye Qingwei strolled a couple of laps around the house, but couldn’t find Ruan Zhao anywhere. Eventually, she spotted a figure over by the peach trees.

It was a young man—vaguely unfamiliar, but somehow also familiar. He was dressed in spotless white robes, free of even a speck of dust, with no extra adornments on his body. At his waist hung a frost-colored longsword.

The sheath’s patterns looked strikingly familiar—ancient, mysterious—and there was a red sword tassel attached to the hilt, strung with two little beads. It didn’t match the sword at all. It was clearly Suiying, Chu Xinglan’s sword.

The girl in her pink skirt stood behind the boy, narrowing her eyes, studying him for a good while. Finally, she hesitantly called out: “Senior brother Chu? Did you… shrink? How’d you get so small?” How strange… standing up, he didn’t even seem taller than her.

Hearing the voice, Ruan Zhao turned around, a little surprised. “You’ve got the wrong person. I’m not Chu Xinglan.”

Ye Qingwei’s eyes widened, staring at him for a long moment. Then, from that flawless face, she suddenly picked up on something familiar. “Ruan Zhao…?” She paused, frowning slightly. “Why are you wearing Chu Xinglan’s clothes? And carrying his sword?”

“It doesn’t look good?” he asked.

“It looks good,” Ye Qingwei admitted honestly, “but… it feels a little weird. Why’re you suddenly cross-dressing as a guy?”

Ruan Zhao stayed silent for a moment, continuing to water the peach trees. Noticing one with slightly yellowing leaves, he quickly infused it with extra spiritual energy. Only after tending to all the trees did he finally stand up and respond to her question. “You’ve got it backwards.”

Ye Qingwei stared at the boy—a good half a head taller than her—and those beautiful light-colored eyes of his. Without realizing it, a blush crept up her cheeks. Ruan Zhao was just so good-looking. Whether in women’s clothes or men’s robes, he had a unique kind of presence that naturally drew attention.

The boy’s long black hair was loosely tied with a pale-colored ribbon, swaying gently with the breeze. A jade-white belt cinched his slender waist, while the sword at his left side gave him a youthful air of pride and vigor unique to someone his age.

The more Ye Qingwei looked, the warmer her face felt. She quickly turned her head away, mumbling softly, “How could I be wrong? You’re obviously the one cross-dressing.”

Ruan Zhao patiently corrected her: “Not that kind of wrong.”

“Then what kind—” Ye Qingwei frowned, trying to recall what she’d just said. “Female disguised as male… male disguised as female?!” Her voice shot up a full octave at the last phrase, loud and absolutely incredulous. Her brain was now working overtime, spinning so fast it made her feel dizzy.

She forced a grin, lips twitching. “That’s ridiculous. You’re messing with me, right?”

She still clearly remembered the first time she met Ruan Zhao. A girl in a pale green dress, hair done up simply, an unpainted, stunningly beautiful face—pure and alluring, those eyes alone could make people forget to breathe.

Even as a fellow woman, Ye Qingwei couldn’t help but be swept up by that beauty, left standing there dumbfounded. She’d even thought—how could anyone be so adorable? What a lucky guy Chu Xinglan was.

And now Ruan Zhao was telling her… that beautiful “little sister” never existed. It had been an act, all along. How could she possibly accept that? Even thinking about it felt like the sky was falling. So she fixed him with a deadly serious expression. “Don’t joke like that with me.”

Ruan Zhao’s gaze was a little complicated as he looked at her for a moment. Then he quietly replied, “I’m not joking.” After saying that, he picked up the little wooden bucket and walked a few steps forward, carefully watering his beloved peach saplings again.

Ye Qingwei’s face practically cracked. She stared hard at his side profile, desperately searching for some kind of flaw, a hint of deceit—but frustratingly, she found nothing. And gradually… that broken expression began to settle.

She had no choice but to accept the fact that the beautiful “little sister” no longer existed.

Ye Qingwei squatted down beside Ruan Zhao, absentmindedly twirling a blade of grass around her finger, trying to calm her restless heart. After a while, she cautiously asked, “Does… Chu Xinglan know about this?”

But as soon as the words left her mouth, she shook her head and answered herself, “…He can’t not know. You’re literally wearing his clothes, carrying his sword. There’s no way he’s been in the dark.”

“When did he find out?”

“The very first day we met.” Ruan Zhao replied.

Ye Qingwei’s mouth opened and closed a few times, speechless. “Then why did you keep pretending to be a girl?”

Ruan Zhao: “……”

Good question.

He casually plucked a withered leaf, burying it into the soil as if he hadn’t heard her. What was he supposed to say? That all this time, he’d mistakenly thought Chu Xinglan had taken him for a girl—and he’d desperately clung to that identity, terrified of being cast aside, afraid of losing his place beside him? That he’d kept up the disguise, thinking Chu Xinglan liked him that way—wearing dresses, fancy hairpins, looking delicate and pretty—and that was why Chu Xinglan never brought it up?

A single, simple truth, left unspoken, had somehow dragged on for six or seven years. All that worry, guilt, and anxiety… completely unnecessary. Chu Xinglan had known from the very start. And had never once cared.

Just thinking about it made Ruan Zhao cringe with embarrassment, feeling both stupid and ridiculous. Best not to let a third person know about this.

Ruan Zhao worked hard to look unbothered, continuing to water his little peach saplings.

Ye Qingwei’s eyes gleamed with unmistakable gossip-hunger. She scooted a little closer to him, shielding her mouth with her hand, and whispered, “So… is that, like, your personal hobby?”

Ruan Zhao immediately understood what she was implying. His fingers stiffened slightly, spilling a little water from the ladle. He chose to brush it off vaguely, “…Sure, let’s just say that.”

Ye Qingwei’s breath grew a little lighter. She hesitated, “So… will you still dress up as a girl sometimes? I mean, your skin’s so fair, your legs are long, your waist is slim—it’s honestly such a waste if you don’t wear skirts.”

Ruan Zhao: “……”

Ye Qingwei raised three fingers in mock solemnity, putting on her most sincere expression, “Just saying, I swear I’m not a weirdo… it’s really just that you look amazing in a dress, that’s all!”

Without a word, Ruan Zhao shoved the water ladle into her hand, face cold, “Since you’re so free, and still have time for this nonsense—you water the rest.”

Ye Qingwei dumbly clutched the ladle, and before thinking too much, blurted out, “If I finish watering, will you wear a dress for me?”

Ruan Zhao shot her a baffled look, “No.”

Ye Qingwei pouted, “So heartless.”

Ruan Zhao carried the water bucket over, “When you water, be careful. See this ladle? Fill it up to here—no more, no less.”

Ye Qingwei obediently watered as instructed while mumbling, “You weren’t like this before… you’d smile at me so gently, bring me snacks, protect me when Chu Xinglan scolded me… Now you’re cold, ruthless, won’t even grant me this tiny little request.” She grumbled, but still carefully gave each little sapling exactly half a ladle—not a drop too much, not too little.

Ruan Zhao responded with indifference, “Of course I had to be gentler when I was pretending to be a girl. Even if you’re faking, you’ve got to sell it, or people would catch on immediately.”

Ye Qingwei hesitated. Clearly, she hadn’t given up, “So… you really won’t ever wear a dress again?”

Ruan Zhao rolled his eyes, “Even if I did, it’d be for Chu Xinglan to see. What does it have to do with you?”

Ye Qingwei said self-righteously, “Because beautiful things should be shared! I don’t think Senior brother Chu would mind either—”

“Mind what?”

A cool, clear male voice suddenly rang out behind them. Ye Qingwei froze. A chill shot down her back.

She slowly turned around and saw Chu Xinglan standing right beside Ruan Zhao, his cold gaze lowered onto her… Whether he’d overheard her conversation with Ruan Zhao, she wasn’t sure. He probably didn’t.

If he had, he wouldn’t look like this. But Ye Qingwei still felt a guilty pang. She gave an awkward laugh, her eyes darting left and right, stumbling over her greeting, “S-senior brother Chu, hello…”

Then she quickly lowered her head, hurriedly watered the last sapling, and bolted away like a startled rabbit, waving as she ran. “Bye, Senior brother Chu!”

Chu Xinglan: “……”

Ruan Zhao: “……”

“What’s she running for?” Chu Xinglan asked, puzzled. He’d just gotten back and had only caught the tail end of the conversation.

Ruan Zhao’s lips curved slightly, “Maybe she’s feeling a little guilty.”

“Guilty?” Chu Xinglan frowned. He knew this little junior sister well enough, “What’s she sneaking around about this time?”

Ruan Zhao blinked innocently and covered for her, “Nothing much.” He added, tone light, “She was just asking why I don’t wear skirts anymore.”

Chu Xinglan’s voice cooled, “What business is it of hers what you wear?”

Ruan Zhao smoothly followed up, “Right? This kind of thing… only concerns my brother.” He turned his eyes up with a smile, teasing, “Does my brother like it when I wear skirts too?”

“If you do—” Ruan Zhao’s voice softened, drawing out the words, “I could wear them… just for you.”

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