Axolotl Translations

Late into the night, the rain intensified, becoming a relentless downpour. Sheets of water crashed from the sky with a fierce energy, the sound enveloping them like a powerful surround system, instantly jolting the slumbering forest awake.

From dusk until the early hours, Gu Mengran and Liang Zhao found no opportunity to slip away. More and more people had arrived in the village, and by midnight, Shijin Village was completely encircled by a contingent of strong young men sent by the Yongyue.

Every alleyway was guarded. The patrols seemed tireless, constantly moving through the village throughout the night. Even a brief trip outside to relieve themselves meant being stopped and questioned.

The situation was grim. Yongyue’s defenses were far more extensive than they had anticipated. Their initial confidence had eroded, replaced by a growing sense of unease. Gu Mengran’s mood had completely shifted.

The bed was soft, the blankets warm, yet no matter how he shifted, sleep eluded him.

Resting his head on his arm, Gu Mengran turned from his back to his side. A barely perceptible sigh escaped his lips.

The sound was so faint, yet immediately, a concerned voice beside him inquired, “Still awake? The sky will be light soon.”

Rolling over, he found himself face-to-face with Liang Zhao in the darkness. Their eyes met—Liang Zhao’s calm and steady, with a faint glow. But Gu Mengran felt no warmth in his heart. His brow furrowed deeper. “I’m worried. We couldn’t get out tonight, and it will be even harder during the day. We have our space ability as a backup, but the Windwing is still out on the lake. If someone spots it…”

“Don’t fret too much. Right now, all their attention is on Shijin Village. They lack the time and manpower to scan the lake. From this distance, radar won’t detect it—the Windwing is safe for now.” Liang Zhao spoke with calm logic, reaching under the blanket to gently take Gu Mengran’s hand.

Gu Mengran pressed his lips together in frustration. “But we’ve been gone all night, and there’s no way to contact them. I’m just… I’m scared Grandpa might come looking for us.”

“What are you thinking?” Liang Zhao’s tone softened, a hint of humor deliberately injected to lighten the atmosphere. “Do you think your grandpa is new to all this? We’ve always returned on time. The moment we didn’t, they’d know something was wrong.”

“Trust me—they won’t charge in recklessly. The boat has rafts, motorboats, and binoculars. Your grandpa and Zheng Yijie are both intelligent. They’ll find a safer way to assess the situation.”

Gu Mengran’s tense expression gradually softened. He looked at Liang Zhao with a flicker of hope. “Really?”

“Really,” Liang Zhao affirmed with a nod.

That reassurance worked. The unease that clouded his heart eased slightly. Gu Mengran exhaled a warm breath. “So what do we do tomorrow… today? We still don’t know what Sister Fang and the others are planning. If something happens or they’re forced onto the boat, we might have no choice but to go along with the rest of the villagers.”

“Scared?” Instead of a direct answer, Liang Zhao rubbed the top of his head.

Gu Mengran shook his head. “Not really scared. I just don’t know what to do.”

They still had their spatial ability as a last resort, but the more people involved, the less viable it became. A life-saving space ability drew far more attention than a stockpile of supplies. Gu Mengran had no intention of painting a target on his back.

If they were to use it, the safest course of action would be to vanish into it now, making it appear as if they had simply disappeared into thin air. With only two people gone, the others would likely assume they had escaped and wouldn’t waste too much effort trying to track them. Then, once the coast was clear, they could reappear. It would be foolproof.

But that choice came at a cost—turning a blind eye while Shijin Village was left to fend for itself.

It wasn’t that Gu Mengran didn’t care. The larger issue was that once they entered that space, they would lose contact with the outside world. If Grandpa or Zheng Yijie came looking and were caught, they wouldn’t even know.

They would just have to proceed cautiously, one step at a time. The numbers on both sides weren’t drastically different. As long as the villagers stayed united, there had to be a way.

“Wu Zhang, Wang Zhang, what are you doing?!”

A shout suddenly echoed through the alley. Lying on their sides, Gu Mengran and Liang Zhao immediately exchanged a look, sitting up in unison.

The guest room at Xiao Dong’s place faced directly onto the alley. Their bed was right next to the window, so all it took was a slight lift of the curtain. Faint morning light illuminated the scene outside.

Across the street, in front of Duan Yueyan’s home, more than ten bulging plastic woven sacks were piled under the eaves. Four or five aunties were bustling back and forth, each carrying one bag after another out the door.

Someone came running down the alley, panting heavily. It was Xiao Dong, who hadn’t returned all night. He spread his arms wide, blocking the doorway. “Put that down! Where are you taking all this? What’s going on?!”

With his large frame planted firmly in the doorway, there was truly no way to get past him.

Leading the group, Wu Zhang set down her sack with a sigh and patted Xiao Dong’s shoulder, her voice earnest. “Let us through, Xiao Dong. We’ve already made up our minds. We’re leaving with Captain Dong. They’re right—this village won’t last long. Once the floodwaters come, we won’t even have a place to stand.”

“She’s right, Xiao Dong,” another auntie chimed in, stepping forward. “None of us can swim. If we don’t leave now, what are we supposed to do—sit around and wait to die? My grandson’s only six. I want to live. I want to see him grow up.”

“Xiao Dong, we’re not trying to do anything shady,” one of the aunties explained. “We’re just taking our share of the food—nothing more, nothing less.”

The aunties crowded around him, one after another. Xiao Dong, his face red and flustered, continued to block the doorway with all his might. “If it weren’t for Brother Duan and Sister Fang, would we even be living so comfortably right now? Brother Duan isn’t back yet, Sister Fang hasn’t made a decision—why are you all so determined to divide everything up now?!”

“Oh, come on,” one of them snapped impatiently. “So what, without Xiao Yan and Xiao Fang we’d all starve? Everyone contributed. This was a group effort. We earned our share.”

“Stop wasting time! They’re leaving today—miss the boat now and you’ll lose your spot!”

One voice was no match for five. Xiao Dong, his voice cracking, shouted hoarsely, “Brother Duan is out there looking for a boat! What’s the rush? We’ll have one of our own soon!”

“It’s been months, and we haven’t seen a single sign of it—we’re done waiting!”

“Step aside, Xiao Dong! You’re in the way!”

“Move it!”

……

No matter how large he was, he was still just one person. The aunties were no longer listening. They began to push, one after another, shoving him out of the doorway.

Even ants can move a tree—under the weight of so many hands, Xiao Dong slowly lost his footing.

His foot caught on one of the sacks near the entrance, and before he could steady himself, he fell backward—stumbling and crashing to the ground, directly into the pouring rain.

Rain streamed down over him as he sat there, motionless. His red, tear-filled eyes reflected the faces of the people he’d grown up with—the family, the friends he had once trusted. But now, his gaze held nothing but despair.

The aunties paused, stunned for a moment. A couple of them moved to help him up—but before they could get close, a sharp, mocking whistle echoed from down the alley. A strange man’s voice called out:

“Better hurry! First come, first pick of the rooms!”

The hesitation vanished. The aunties spun around and rushed off, busily hauling their bags and boxes.

Morning had arrived—and the village had descended into chaos.

With Sister Fang losing her grip on leadership, it was as if every villager had silently reached the same decision in the dead of night. One after another, they began packing up, dragging out what they claimed was “their share” from the warehouse.

Everyone asserted that they had contributed, that they had the right to take what they considered their share.

However, the supplies within the village had never been distributed equitably—what constituted their rightful portion was something each individual decided for themselves.

Perhaps it began with just a few shortsighted individuals, focused solely on their own survival. But humans are inherently driven to seek benefit and avoid harm. As the warehouse emptied and those outsiders continued to stoke the flames, more and more people chose to leave.

Without resistance, without a struggle—overnight, Shijin Village crumbled.

……

By noon, within Sister Fang’s family’s main room—

Dozens of supply sheds were almost completely bare, and the departing villagers were mostly gone. Around twenty young men and women stood silently inside the house. Their heads were lowered, dark circles prominent beneath their eyes. Their expressions were heavy with confusion and despair.

“Everyone’s here, Sister Fang.”

No one was certain who spoke, but two minutes later, the inner room’s door opened.

Sister Fang emerged, followed by Xiao Dong.

Like everyone else, they clearly hadn’t slept at all. Their eyes were red and swollen, the skin beneath them dark and bruised.

The twenty-odd people were crammed into a single room, yet the air was eerily still.

Sister Fang slowly looked around, her gaze sweeping across every corner. Then she closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. Her voice trembled with disbelief as she asked, “Is… is this really all that’s left?”

“Yeah,” a young man replied softly. “We called out over and over. These were the only ones who came.”

Sister Fang’s shoulders quivered slightly. She remained silent for a few seconds before opening her eyes again. It was as if she were saying a final, wordless goodbye. Her gaze lingered on each face, one by one, before finally turning to the now-empty doorway.

“Go,” she said quietly. “You all should go too. Get on the boat with the rest of them. Start a new life.”

As soon as she finished speaking, the quiet room erupted with noise.

“Sister Fang, are you kicking us out?”

“I didn’t leave earlier, and I’m certainly not leaving now!”

“Why are you telling us to go? So what if the supplies are gone? We’re still here! We’ve got hands, we’ve got strength—we’re young. We can start over!”

“What do you mean, we should go too? Sister Fang, you—”

Everyone began shouting at once. The noise was deafening.

Sister Fang raised her hand to silence them. Once the room quieted down, she slowly addressed some of their concerns.

“Yes,” she said. “It’s true—supplies can be replaced. But what if the land disappears too? No matter who you go with, you’ll have to leave eventually. It’s better to stick with the larger group. At least then, you can look out for each other.”

“I… I’m not leaving,” someone declared firmly. “I grew up here. I can’t bear to go. Surely not everyone will abandon the village we’ve lived in for so many years, right? I’m staying. No matter what—I’m staying.”

Before their words had even faded away, a crisp round of applause echoed from outside the door.

The victor of this petty power play sauntered up to the entrance, leaning lazily against the doorframe. A smirk played on his lips as he surveyed everyone inside.

“So touching. Truly heartfelt,” he said mockingly. “You’re Xiao Fang, right? Kind-hearted, loyal—yeah, I quite like that about you.”

Sister Fang glanced up and saw Dong Hongbo. Her eyes turned cold, and her face fell.

“Thanks, but no thanks,” she replied flatly.

“Heh, a little fire in you, huh?” Dong Hongbo chuckled, clearly amused. “I thought you were the smart type. Didn’t expect you to still be blind to the reality of the situation.”

Sister Fang remained silent, though a flicker of confusion crossed her eyes.

Dong Hongbo lifted his chin proudly.

“I’m not running a charity, you know. Your warehouses are probably empty by now, aren’t they? No supplies, no ‘admission fee’—why should I take your people onto my ship?”

“Plenty of people though,” someone in his crew added with a leer. “This one’s pretty cute. Could be the captain’s wife.”

“Wife? She’s just some backwoods peasant. Maybe a side piece at best.”

“Hahahaha…”

The men behind him jeered and joked freely. Dong Hongbo no longer bothered to conceal his intentions. His gaze locked onto Sister Fang—bold, suggestive, and repulsive.

The young people inside the house clenched their fists, their patience wearing thin. But before any of them could react, Sister Fang calmly raised her hand, stopping them. She turned back to Dong Hongbo with a polite, composed smile.

“I’m sure these capable young people won’t have trouble finding a place on someone’s boat.”

Dong Hongbo burst out laughing.

“Ah! Seems Miss Xiao Fang understands exactly what we’re after.” He gestured theatrically. “Come on, then. You lead the way. Let’s get on board and start our new life.”

Sister Fang didn’t move. She gave a small shake of her head.

“I’m not going. Take them and go.”

“Oh, I don’t think you get a choice.” Dong Hongbo smiled smugly.

Before he even finished speaking, his goons rushed forward. They grabbed the nearest young man by the door and swung a fist toward his face.

“Stop!” Sister Fang shouted.

The punch halted just inches from the guy’s nose. The thugs froze.

Sister Fang’s chest heaved violently as she struggled to regain her composure. After nearly a minute, she glared at Dong Hongbo, her voice sharp:

“Captain Dong, what exactly do you mean by this? You want to force me onto that boat? Aren’t you afraid I’ll expose your lies to everyone and show them who you really are?”

Dong Hongbo shrugged casually and spread his hands.

“No. You won’t. And you won’t dare. You know better. You know what’ll keep these people comfortable.”

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