Axolotl Translations

When Wei Jiajia woke up again, she was already back at her parents’ house, lying in the room she had lived in before getting married. The room was quiet—completely still. There wasn’t a soul around. The children had been taken out by Qiao Haoyu so they wouldn’t disturb their mother while she rested.

Wei Jiajia lay motionless on the bed, her eyes fixed blankly on the ceiling, her mind swirling with memories of her great-aunt’s teachings and the hopes she had once placed in her. She had always believed that with the healing effects of her spiritual spring water, her great-aunt would live to a ripe old age. She never imagined that fate could be so cruel—that she would lose her like this.

From the moment she had awakened in this world, Wei Jiajia had regarded her great-aunt as her true family. She had already planned that once the Reform and Opening Up began, she would take her across the country to see the beautiful landscapes of the motherland. But now, all of it had become nothing more than an impossible dream.

She curled up tightly on the bed, biting her lip to muffle her sobs as tears streamed down her face. That was how Aunt Fen found her when she came in to check on her out of worry. “Jiajia, don’t cry. Your aunt wouldn’t want to see you like this…”

Aunt Fen walked over and wrapped her arms around her, trying to comfort her like a child. But before she could even finish speaking, her own tears began to fall too. The two women clung to each other, grieving the loss of a loved one, sharing their sorrow in silence.

After a long while, Wei Jiajia’s emotions began to settle. She finally opened her mouth to ask, “Why did this happen to Great-aunt? What could she have done to deserve this?” She was so kind, so gentle. She had never harmed anyone. How could they be so cruel to her?

Aunt Fen wiped her tears and sat up. Then, she began to explain what had happened. As it turned out, everything that happened could have been avoided. The tragedy began the day Auntie went out to buy groceries.

It was usually Aunt Fen who did the shopping, but at the time, the schools were in chaos. Not wanting to leave young Xiangqing unattended, Aunt Fen had started picking her up and dropping her off every day. So the chore of grocery shopping had fallen to the elderly aunt.

That day had started like any other. Great-aunt bought what she needed and was walking home when she passed by a house and saw something happening inside. There was a public struggle session underway. Great-aunt was troubled but helpless—just an old woman, she could do nothing—so she forced herself to look away and walk past. But she never imagined that the man being denounced would recognize her.

“I want to redeem myself! I’ll report her—she’s the daughter of a landlord! Her husband used to own one of the biggest textile factories in Su City. She’s the real exploiter!” The old man, lying on the ground, shouted excitedly, pointing at Great-aunt and addressing the Red Armband guards.

Great-aunt never imagined that simply passing by would lead to her being recognized—turned into a scapegoat for someone else’s sins. Steeling herself, she addressed the suspicious onlookers: “You must have mistaken me for someone else. I don’t know any ‘young lady’ you’re talking about. I’m from Shencheng, and I’ve never even been to Su City. I come from a commoner background.”

She knew perfectly well that her words couldn’t withstand much scrutiny. If anyone asked around the neighborhood, they’d quickly discover that she and her family had moved there from Su City. But at this point, denial was her only option.

She couldn’t allow her past to ruin everything—not when the children had such bright futures ahead of them. She was already half in the grave; how could she drag the young ones down with her? She had seen too many examples in the past three months—entire families punished because of one person’s background. She refused to go down without a fight.

The old man on the ground broke free from those holding him back and scrambled to his feet. Pointing at her with frenzied excitement, he cried out: “There’s no mistake! No way I could be wrong! You’re the young miss of the Wang family. Your husband’s family was one of the wealthiest in Su City! I used to be your husband’s driver—I’d never forget you!”

Back in those days, who in Su City didn’t know the two radiant daughters of the Wang family? Both sisters were beautiful and educated. One married the owner of the largest silver bank in the city, and the other—the younger one—married the heir to a major textile mill. One of them later died from illness, the other was widowed young and eventually disappeared, never to be seen again. But those who had met them never forgot their grace.

Hadn’t he secretly admired her from afar for years? And now, at this low point in his life, he had encountered her again. She might be old now, but her elegance—that aura—was unmistakable. He knew her instantly. There was no way he was wrong.

Bitterness welled up inside him. Why was it that some people were born to live above others, while people like him were always stuck below? Why did he have to curry favor just to become a chauffeur, and later scrape and save every penny to finally open a modest fabric shop—while they got to ride in rickshaws and dine on Western food? Now he was being dragged out for struggle sessions because of his “class background,” while the real exploiters still lived comfortably and untouched? How was that fair?

If he was going to die, he’d take her down with him. It was her own fault for showing up—of all times, why now? The man’s thoughts twisted and darkened. His shaved scalp gleamed under the sun, and a chilling laugh bubbled out of him—high and shrill.

Behind him, his family, seizing upon his words as a lifeline, began shouting their grievances. “My father isn’t lying! We just ran a little shop! We’re not exploiters—she is! That old woman right there!”

“Yes, yes, exactly! Just look at her—you can tell she’s not an ordinary person!”

The crowd started shouting over one another, pointing at Auntie and talking to the Red Armband officers, eager to prove themselves useful and earn leniency. Great-aunt understood—everything the old man had said was true. He might really have recognized her.

When she saw the Red Armband agents striding toward her, she steeled herself, dropped her basket, and rushed at the old man, clawing at his clothes and screaming like a madwoman—something she had never done in her life. “You damned old fool! How dare you shoot your mouth off—point at some innocent passerby and call her a member of the exploiting class? What, you’ll do anything to save your own hide now? Do you think you can just name anyone you want?!”

She began scratching his face furiously. “Liar! Liar! I’ll teach you to slander people!”

The old man was stunned for a moment by her outburst. In his memory, the Wang family’s young miss had always been composed and well-mannered—nothing like this. Annoyed by her sudden assault, he shoved her hard. But Great-aunt had already prepared for the worst the moment she moved. She threw herself into the motion, letting her head slam into the wall, then collapsed to the ground, sliding down slowly. Blood started to seep from her head.

The crowd froze in place, stunned by what had just happened. Even the usually ruthless Red Armband guards were at a loss—raiding homes, humiliating people, yes—but this was the first time someone had actually died in front of them.

“It wasn’t me! I didn’t mean to kill her!” the old man stammered, staring at the hand he had used to push her. He kept repeating that it wasn’t his fault, that he’d just wanted her to stay away from him—he hadn’t meant to kill anyone. It was all just a horrible accident.

The leader of the Red Armband guards, seeing that someone had died—especially an innocent bystander—turned pale. He looked around and spoke coldly: “This has nothing to do with us. We came to investigate the exploiting class. What happened to her has nothing to do with us.”

Then turning to the old man, he added, “Your family’s class status is petty bourgeois. We found large amounts of gold and silver hidden under your bed—that’s damning evidence. And now you’ve injured an innocent person—your crimes have only worsened. You’re coming with us. Prepare to be dealt with!” With that, he and the others dragged the old man’s family away from the scene.

No one checked whether great-aunt was alive or dead. They left her lying in a pool of blood. It was only when Aunt Fen came home and realized Great-aunt hadn’t returned that she went out to look for her—and found her like that.

By the time she rushed Great-aunt to the hospital, the doctors said she’d lost too much blood. There was nothing more they could do. Later, Uncle Zhuzi called each of the siblings separately, asking them to come home.

Listening to Aunt Fen’s account, Wei Jiajia broke down in tears. Great-aunt had done it on purpose—to protect them. She had thrown herself at that wall. How could she be so foolish? They were a family. No matter how hard things got, they could face it together. Why had she chosen such a final, irreversible way to protect them?

Outside the house, Qiao Haoyu, Xiangdong, and Xiangxi had also heard Aunt Fen recount what had happened. Tears silently streamed down their faces. A heaviness hung in everyone’s heart, the kind of stifling sorrow that couldn’t be let out.

Like Wei Jiajia, they believed that as long as a family stayed together, no hardship was insurmountable. The finality of great-aunt’s decision only deepened the pain in their hearts.

Xiangxi suddenly slammed his fist into the wall. Blood spurted from his knuckles, but he didn’t seem to feel the pain. He crouched down, holding his head in his arms, and wept bitterly.

Xiangdong, more reserved by nature, felt no less anguish. But now that his sister had collapsed and her husband was left to care for her and the triplets, as the eldest, he knew he had to shoulder the family’s burden.

There were younger siblings to look after—so young, and they had never once been apart from Great-aunt. Her sudden death would leave them utterly lost. He couldn’t let himself fall apart, not in front of them. If they saw his fear, they would be afraid too.

“Xiangxi, don’t let this break you. Pull yourself together,” Qiao Haoyu said, patting him gently on the shoulder. “Right now, the most important thing is Great-aunt’s funeral. We need to talk about what to do next.”

The outside world was still in chaos, and funerals were considered part of the “Four Olds.” They needed to plan carefully how to send Great-aunt off with dignity.

Hearing this, Xiangxi wiped his face and stood up. The three of them left the room and went to the main hall to discuss Great-aunt’s burial.

That afternoon, as Xiangdong and the others talked through the arrangements, Wei Jiajia spoke up. “I think great-aunt would want to be with her husband.” Their love had run deep. She had never remarried for his sake; surely in death, she would want to be reunited with him. She had likely kept quiet about it to avoid burdening them during these difficult times.

“But we don’t even know where Grandpa’s grave is,” Xiangxi said. He agreed with his sister, but without knowing the location, how could they carry out a joint burial?

“I do,” Wei Jiajia said. Back when things were peaceful, Auntie would sometimes reminisce about her youth, and she had told her where her husband was buried. It was in Su City.

Back when she lived nearby, great-aunt would visit his grave every year to pay respects. Only after Wei Jiajia moved far away to give birth did great-aunt stop visiting. That was also the main reason she had wanted to return to Shencheng—and why she had agreed when Wei Jiajia brought it up.

After discussing it, the family agreed to Wei Jiajia’s suggestion. They carried great-aunt’s urn and set off to return her to the man she had loved most.

Arriving in Su City, they checked into a guesthouse, left their luggage, and made their way toward the cemetery Great-aunt had once mentioned.

It wasn’t until they had personally placed her beside the one she loved most, allowing her to rest there in peace, that the group descended the mountain as night fell, preparing to return to the guesthouse.

“Mama, is Great-Grandma going to live in there forever now?” Qiao Aijia, in her father’s arms, looked at her mother with wide, innocent eyes.

“Yes,” Wei Jiajia replied, “Great-Grandma and Great-Grandpa will live there together from now on.”

“Then what should I do if I miss her?” she asked again.

“If you miss Great-Grandma, we’ll come here to visit her, tell her how you’re doing, and let her be happy knowing you’re doing well.”

“Mm.” Qiao Aijia nodded her little head and then said, “I don’t want Daddy and Mommy to live there in the future. I want you to always be with me, and my brothers.” Her voice was soft and earnest. She had understood that people who lived there couldn’t be seen again. She didn’t want to lose her parents like that too.

Wei Jiajia was nearly moved to tears by her daughter’s tender words. She gently caressed the little one’s cheek. “Daddy and Mommy will always be with you, watching you grow up, get married, and have children. I promise.”

Having received her mother’s promise, Qiao Aijia felt reassured. She turned her gaze toward her father, who was holding her. “Daddy promises too!” Qiao Haoyu nodded at his daughter. Looking at his wife beside him, he silently vowed that he would stand by her as they raised their children together.

With both her parents’ promises, Qiao Aijia beamed. She hugged her father’s neck tightly, gave him a kiss on the cheek, then stretched her neck out and gave her mom a kiss too.

Watching her daughter’s rare moment of affection, Wei Jiajia felt a twinge of pain in her heart. She knew that since great-aunt’s passing, she had been so caught up in her grief that she hadn’t been able to properly care for the children. She had scared them a bit and made them feel insecure. Just look at her two sons, walking ahead in their uncle’s arms, constantly turning back to check on their parents—something they had never done before.

Great-aunt was now resting peacefully with the man she loved. It was time for her to pull herself together. She couldn’t let her husband and children keep worrying about her, Wei Jiajia told herself.

That evening, they found a state-run restaurant to have dinner before heading back to the guesthouse. Once there, everyone gathered in a single room to talk about what came next.

Aunt Fen glanced at her husband. After Uncle Zhuzi gave her a nod, she began, “Jiajia, Xiangdong, Xiangxi—you three are all grown up now. Godmother has passed away, after discussing with Uncle Zhuzi, we’ve decided we’ll move out. It just doesn’t feel right to keep living in the house. And once you brothers start getting married, it could become even more complicated.”

Wei Jiajia hadn’t expected Aunt Fen and Uncle Zhuzi to want to move out, but after thinking it over, she could understand. After all, it was the Wei family’s home. In the past, with great-aunt still alive, they had stayed on to help take care of her and the siblings. Now that great-aunt had passed and the siblings were all grown, it made sense that they would bring this up.

Hearing Aunt Fen’s words, Xiangxi grew anxious and stood up, about to speak. But Xiangdong, sitting beside him, pulled him back and shook his head, saying, “Let’s hear what Big Sister has to say first.” So Xiangxi sat back down. He knew their eldest sister surely didn’t want Aunt Fen and Uncle Zhuzi to move out. She had said before that the five siblings were meant to care for the couple in their old age.

“Aunt Fen, Uncle Zhuzi,” Wei Jiajia said, “I understand what you’re thinking. great-aunt may be gone, but you two are still our family—family to all five of us siblings. Now, with me following Haoyu on military assignments and taking Yangyang and Nuannuan with me, we’re far away and might not make it back for years. Xiangdong and Xiangxi are at school, and with the strict rules, they only come home once a year at most. If you move out, then the house will be empty. When we come back and see the house cold and lifeless, could you really bear that?”

Seeing that the couple seemed a little hesitant, she added, “And it’s not easy to buy a place right now. Uncle Zhuzi’s work unit—it’s anyone’s guess when they’ll distribute housing. Do you really want to take Xiangqing and rent a place, instead of staying here and helping us look after the family home?”

When she saw them shake their heads repeatedly, she smiled and went on, “Then just stay here and live comfortably. When Xiangqing grows up and gets married, if you want to go live with her, I won’t stand in your way. But for now, stay in the house. Save the money you’d spend on rent. When the time comes, you can use it to help buy her a place. Wouldn’t that give her some confidence when she enters her husband’s home?”

Hearing Wei Jiajia’s words, the couple was moved. They knew she was sincerely thinking of them—and of Xiangqing’s future. When Aunt Fen and Uncle Zhuzi nodded in agreement to stay, the five Wei siblings broke into smiles.

Then their eyes turned to Xiangdong and Xiangxi. Now that everyone knew how chaotic things had become at school, there were concerns about whether the two would even be able to graduate on schedule.

“Our school has strict management. So far, it hasn’t affected us,” Xiangdong reassured everyone. “But I heard from a teacher that if the real storm does come, the school might arrange for us to graduate early and report to our assigned units.”

As a military academy training future soldiers, their discipline was naturally far stricter than that of other universities. With the outside world in chaos, it made sense to continue focusing on training and studies. Upon hearing his explanation, everyone felt relieved. As long as the school wasn’t affected, he should be able to graduate as planned.

When everyone turned to Xiangxi, he quickly tried to ease their worries too. “Don’t worry. Even though I’m in scientific research, it’s still a military academy. Our school is just as good as my brother’s. Some professors who studied abroad are occasionally required to write self-reflections, but students aren’t involved at all. My professor likes me a lot. He has a major research project coming up and told me privately that he’s applying to bring me along.”

Xiangxi grew more animated as he spoke. For someone in research, being invited to participate in such an important project was thrilling. Although he was still inexperienced and would only be assisting, it still showed that his professor valued him highly.

Everyone was genuinely happy for him. He’d only been in university a few years, yet he’d already earned such recognition—it proved he was smart and full of promise.

Since there were no immediate concerns about her two brothers’ futures, and Aunt Fen and Uncle Zhuzi would remain at home—safe and without any social standing that might draw unwanted attention—Wei Jiajia felt assured enough to return with her husband and children.

As for what great-aunt had left them, Wei Jiajia had decided she would wait ten years before distributing it. Only then would its true value be revealed. If she were to take it out now, it would likely alarm Aunt Fen and the others. If they couldn’t protect it and others caught wind, it might only bring disaster. Better to let it rest quietly in her hidden space—there was no better place for it.

Looking westward, she silently promised: Great-aunt, don’t worry. We’ll all be just fine. I’ll carry out everything you entrusted to me…

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