Axolotl Translations

Comparing the two choices, it felt like an easy decision.

Ruan Zhao breathed out softly, telling himself, It’s just a date. That’s all.

If he just took the whole thing—seed and all—and swallowed it with his eyes shut, he could get it over with fast and not suffer too much. Then he could say he needed to use the bathroom, secretly spit it out in the toilet, and flush it without anyone seeing.

With his plan set, Ruan Zhao smiled nicely at Lu Xingyao, opened his mouth, and reached for the date in his hand. But just as his lips and teeth touched the fruit, Lu Xingyao’s other two fingers gently pressed against his chin, stopping him.

Ruan Zhao: “…?”

Lu Xingyao said calmly, “I changed my mind.”

Ruan Zhao: “??”

Lu Xingyao said evenly, “I don’t even have enough for myself. I’m not giving you any.”

Ruan Zhao: “……”

Are you kidding me right now? Do you have any idea how long I worried about this, how hard it was to go against what I wanted to do? And now you’re just taking it back like it’s nothing? What was all that getting ready for, then? Just to make me look like an idiot?

Maybe it was to be mean, or maybe it was something more, but Ruan Zhao pulled away from Lu Xingyao’s grip and bit down hard on the date in his hand.

Lu Xingyao seemed surprised for a second—then, quickly, he turned the date around. Instead of biting the fruit, Ruan Zhao found his teeth sinking into Lu Xingyao’s finger. His pointed teeth, not quite fangs, were still sharp enough to break the skin easily.

Almost instantly, a faint sweetness spread as blood came up from the bite, taking over all of Ruan Zhao’s weak control.

In a flash, his eyes turned a deep, wild red. He started breathing faster, and his body shook a little with excitement.

His mind told him one thing—but his mouth had its own urges. Without even thinking, he leaned in and started sucking at the wound, trying to get more of that sweet taste. His soft lips closed all around the tip of Lu Xingyao’s finger, and his sharp little teeth brushed against the skin, sometimes gently, sometimes with more pressure.

The boy’s mouth was warm, his tongue unbelievably soft, so delicate it felt like even the lightest touch could break it. A hint of surprise showed in Lu Xingyao’s eyes, but his face stayed strangely calm. He looked down, silently watching the messy hair on top of Ruan Zhao’s head, his dark eyes becoming even deeper and heavier—like a storm just barely held back.

The air between them changed—slowly getting thicker, quietly building. A secret closeness, a hidden danger, filled the quiet room.

The bite on Lu Xingyao’s finger wasn’t deep and soon stopped bleeding.

But even that small taste wasn’t nearly enough for Ruan Zhao’s growing hunger—it only made the feeling inside him stronger. Still holding the man’s finger in his mouth, Ruan Zhao lightly ran his tongue over the skin, as if trying to make it feel better—or maybe just looking for the best place to bite again.

The sharp pain made Lu Xingyao hiss quietly. That sound broke something delicate between them.

Ruan Zhao froze. Only then did he understand what he was doing.

He lifted his head, blinking up at Lu Xingyao in a daze, seeing his own reflection—pale face, red eyes—in the man’s pupils. Panic shot through him. He stumbled back a step, moving awkwardly and unsteadily. The aftereffects of “feeding” were making his head spin, his legs feel weak, and bright flashes of light burst behind his eyes. Right then, he could barely control his own body—let alone make any quick or coordinated movements.

Ruan Zhao stumbled, his arms waving around trying to keep his balance, but before he could fall, a strong hand grabbed his wrist, and another arm quickly held him steady by his waist.

Their eyes met.

And right then, Ruan Zhao desperately wished he could disappear into the ground. He never thought the secret he had hidden so carefully for so long would be shown like this.

His fingers were shaking uncontrollably, but he still held onto a small hope of fixing things. “I—I’m just… scared of blood. That’s why… I acted like that. Do you believe me?”

The lie was so weak—so fragile it would break with the slightest touch.

Lu Xingyao didn’t say right away if he believed him or not. His voice went up a little, slow and careful: “Oh? So you bit down on my finger for that long… because you were too dizzy to react?”

Ruan Zhao gritted his teeth and insisted, “Yes.” His nerves made his words come out in a rushed, jumbled mess. “I didn’t mean to bite you! It’s just—you suddenly put your finger there, and I couldn’t react fast enough! It’s not my fault, right? I mean, you could’ve just pulled your hand away if it hurt. It’s not like I was chasing you to bite you! You didn’t even pull back—so how can you blame me? And the licking thing—it’s instinct, okay? Every time I get hurt, I lick it and it heals faster. That’s all!”

He was talking so fast it barely made sense.

Lu Xingyao interrupted him with a soft tap on the corner of his own lips. “You’ve got something here,” he said.

Ruan Zhao blinked. “Huh?”

Lu Xingyao reached out—and with almost mean precision, wiped at his mouth using the same finger that had just been bitten.

Ruan Zhao’s body reacted faster than his brain. The moment he felt the still-bleeding fingertip touch his lips, his soft tongue flicked out—and licked it. Once. And again.

The room went completely silent.

Lu Xingyao kept looking at the faint wet mark on his finger, his voice still the same: “So this time too? Were you just trying to help my wound heal faster?”

Ruan Zhao froze right where he stood. Right then, he hated his own instincts more than anything else. If he could go back in time, he would in a second. But real life wasn’t that kind.

He stood there, stiff as a board, for a full two minutes, his brain racing—and still couldn’t think of any good excuse.

Lu Xingyao didn’t push him. He just stood there silently, watching. There was no feeling you could see on the man’s face, no change in his calm, steady eyes. No way to know if he was suspicious—or if he still believed him.

The invisible threat hanging over Ruan Zhao could fall at any moment. And he knew—telling one lie meant having to make up a million more to hide it. Ruan Zhao wasn’t good at lying. Especially not to… him. Every time he had managed to fake his way through things before, it wasn’t because he was a good liar. It was because the person standing in front of him had chosen to believe him.

For a split second, Ruan Zhao really wanted to tell him everything. Just shout it out loud—Yeah, so what if I’m a vampire?! Not only did I pretend to be human to follow you home, but I’ve also been secretly eating your food at night while you slept!

Some deep feeling told him that even if he confessed—even if he admitted to worse things—Lu Xingyao still wouldn’t really blame him.

But just as he finally got the courage to speak, a sharp ringing sound cut through the heavy air. Ruan Zhao’s phone was ringing.

Ruan Zhao wasn’t sure if he felt relieved or let down. His heart a jumble of feelings, he pulled out his phone and answered quickly.

On the other end, a clear, pleasant male voice spoke, softly saying, “Zhaozhao.”

Ruan Zhao froze, looking down at the screen. It was a number he didn’t know, with no name saved.

The voice wasn’t loud, but Lu Xingyao’s sharp hearing easily picked up on the very familiar way the caller addressed him. The man’s expression instantly became cooler, a slight chill entering his voice: “Zhaozhao? So close. Is that a friend of yours?”

Facing Lu Xingyao’s quiet, careful stare, Ruan Zhao couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of danger—one that felt even stronger than before. Even the phone in his hand started to feel like it was burning.

Thankfully, the system, always reliable, came to his rescue at the crucial moment. It told him that the person calling was his cousin. Even though they were technically in the same generation, vampire bloodlines were rare and precious—meaning his “cousin” was actually hundreds of years older than him and had practically watched him grow up.

Ruan Zhao: […] (Speechless face.)

Still, knowing it was just his cousin gave Ruan Zhao a big boost of confidence. Facing Lu Xingyao again, his earlier shy feeling sharpened—regained some of its strength. After giving Lu Xingyao a quick look, Ruan Zhao walked a few steps away, putting some space between them.

Only when he was sure Lu Xingyao couldn’t hear did he answer the call properly. The two exchanged warm, casual greetings for a while—before finally getting to the real reason for the call.

Somehow, his cousin had found out about his crazy “running away from home to chase after a human” stunt. And not just any human—someone connected to the really scary Vampire Hunters Association, whose bad reputation was well-known among vampires. Lots of older vampires had died at their hands.

“It’s too dangerous, Zhaozhao.” His cousin’s voice became firm, not allowing any argument. “Tell me where you are. I’ll come get you.”

Ruan Zhao said, “No.”

His cousin clicked his tongue, annoyed. “Now’s not the time to be stubborn. Do you even understand how terrifying that human you’re following really is? You’re barely an adult vampire—he could crush you with one finger.”

“I’m not doing anything bad,” Ruan Zhao mumbled, glancing back at Lu Xingyao. “He has no reason to hurt me. Their police are super strict—they don’t just go around attacking people for no reason. Seriously, you can relax.”

His cousin on the other end almost choked. “Go outside and ask around—what vampire family would ever be okay with their kid hanging around with a Hunter?”

Ruan Zhao shrugged. “Well, too bad. I’m not leaving him.”

His cousin sighed heavily, rubbing his forehead in frustration. “What did he do to you, huh? Give you some love potion? Brainwash you? How did he get you so completely on his side?”

“…I went willingly,” Ruan Zhao muttered.

“You do realize vampires and humans never have happy endings, right?”

“Yeah…” Ruan Zhao answered vaguely.

His cousin’s voice became sharp: “It’s fine if you’re just playing around, but don’t tell me you’re seriously trying to build something real with a giant roast chicken.”

“…Oh.” (Pretending to listen.)

His weak response almost made his cousin explode with anger, but he couldn’t bring himself to yell at his sweet little cousin. Instead, he put all his anger into hating Lu Xingyao, grinding his teeth furiously. Still, when talking to Ruan Zhao, his voice stayed gentle, patiently trying to persuade him.

“You don’t know a single person over there,” his cousin said, his voice soft but firm. “You’ve been out there playing for days. Isn’t that enough already? If you really can’t leave him, you can just invite him over to the castle. We have plenty of room—having one more person stay is nothing.”

Ruan Zhao said, “He’s busy. He has his own things to do. He doesn’t have time for that.”

There was a long silence on the other end of the line. When his cousin finally spoke again, his once clear and gentle voice had become heavy, almost threatening. “…Zhaozhao, don’t make me get rough.”

Ruan Zhao’s breath caught in his throat. He knew his cousin wasn’t kidding. Panicking a little, he quickly explained: “I’m not trying to rebel, really! I have a reason I can’t leave. You know… I’ve always been picky about food, right?” His voice dropped to a whisper, “Nothing ever tasted right to me. But Lu Xingyao is different.”

“His blood… it’s sweet. Really sweet. It’s nothing like anything I’ve ever tasted. When I drink from him, I feel full. Warm all over. It’s the first time in my life I’ve ever known what it feels like not to be starving.”

Ruan Zhao’s voice became stronger, and to really make his point, he deliberately exaggerated: “So even if the whole world ends, I’m not leaving him.”

“…?” His cousin was so surprised he couldn’t speak. “You’re serious?” he asked after a moment. “You’re not lying to me?”

“Of course not,” Ruan Zhao said without hesitating.

“…Fine.” Another long, heavy silence stretched between them. “If that’s really your reason,” his cousin said slowly, “I can reluctantly understand. But that doesn’t mean I’ll just sit back and do nothing. I’m not just going to let the two of you do whatever you want without checking.”

“So…” Ruan Zhao asked nervously, “what now?”

“So,” his cousin said grimly, “this weekend, I’m coming over. To check him out myself.”

“Wait, hang on—!” Before Ruan Zhao could protest, the call was abruptly cut off.

---

Previous Chapter | TOC | Next Chapter