Axolotl Translations

The sky was overcast, and rain mixed with snow churned across the sea. Two simple diesel boats detached from the Windwing, slowly and steadily pushing forward through the rolling waves, heading toward the back of the fleet.

The boats grew smaller and smaller in the distance, shrinking to the size of pinpricks. Twenty minutes later, all that remained on the horizon were two tiny black dots. At the same time, ten bright, colorful inflatable boats dropped into the water one after another, their engines buzzing to life. In a flash, a brilliant orange line darted off across the sea like a swimming dragon.

Fishing wasn’t a group activity—boats didn’t move together. The Giant was hard to steer and would soon be dragging a massive trawling net. That whole stretch of ocean was basically its private fishing ground. Sneaking in for a share wasn’t realistic. If the Windwing and Yongyue didn’t want to return empty-handed, they’d have to find a new patch of water—further away.

Not too close, not too far. Out on the endless sea, with no landmarks to guide them, it was dangerously easy to lose your bearings and drift off course into nowhere.

Gu Mengran had come prepared: a compass, paper charts, and a small sextant. But even so, he didn’t dare venture too far. Once the Giant moved off to trawl, they’d be without its protection. Just one rogue wave could shove the Windwing or Yongyue hundreds of meters off track.

The sea was beautiful. Mysterious.

And to humans, it was vast and indifferent—an endless expanse that could swallow you whole.

After an hour and a half sailing northwest, the two diesel boats finally stopped side by side in a relatively calm patch of ocean, where the wind and waves weren’t quite so fierce.

This was their first real fishing trip out at sea—and everyone was buzzing with excitement.

The cold sea wind cut to the bone, but Zheng Yijie and Xu Xinghe didn’t seem to feel it at all. The moment the boats stabilized, they crawled out from under the little canopy and stood in the sleet yelling, “Gu Mengran! Liang Zhao! Do we start now?”

The chill sank straight into the marrow—it was like standing in someone’s walk-in freezer.

But they were already here. What else could they do but begin? Gu Mengran sniffled, hunched his shoulders, and stepped out from under the canopy with Liang Zhao, each of them carrying a half-full burlap sack of bait.

The sack reeked—a strong, fishy stench—and water dripped steadily from the bottom. Xu Xinghe’s nose twitched as he noticed the bags that had suddenly appeared in their hands.

“What’s that, Brother Liang?” he asked, wrinkling his nose. “It smells terrible.”

“Bait,” Liang Zhao replied, stepping over to the side of the boat and offering one sack with a single hand.

The bag was large and clearly packed, but since Liang Zhao held it so effortlessly, Xu Xinghe assumed it wasn’t that heavy. He reached out with one hand to take it—and the moment Liang Zhao let go, the weight yanked him forward like a brick on a rope. He nearly pitched overboard, if not for Zheng Yijie grabbing him just in time. Otherwise, he’d have gone straight in for a freezing swim.

It took everything they had to drag the bag into the cabin. Xu Xinghe, curiosity still burning strong, untied the rope and peeked inside. One quick glance—and he gasped out loud.

“Holy crap—those fish are huge! And these shrimp—this fresh?! You’re using this as bait?!”

Golden croaker, still partially frozen silver pomfret, big, plump green prawns…

Seafood that most people couldn’t even dream of affording at their dinner table—being used as bait?

Zheng Yijie leaned in for a look and immediately widened his eyes. “Whoa—isn’t this a bit over the top?”

“What else can we do?” Gu Mengran shrugged, stashing the burlap sack in the cabin and crouching down to unpack the crab traps. “It’s not like we’re Jiang Taigong, waiting for fish to throw themselves on the hook without any bait.”

Zheng Yijie frowned slightly and muttered, “Still, this feels like overkill. You could’ve used something else.”

“Like what?” Gu Mengran glanced up.

“I don’t know, the innards from chickens or ducks, leftover fish meat, even just the heads. Worst case, toss in some smaller fish or shrimp. Using giant prawns like this—man, it hurts just looking at them.”

Hearing his suggestions, Gu Mengran paused for a beat, then snapped back with a scowl, “Where were you earlier? Now you say something?”

It was one thing not to say anything. But now that it was out in the open, Gu Mengran started to feel the sting of regret too.

After all, he did have some chicken and duck offal stored in his space. But with Xu Xinghe standing right there, there was no way to pull that out without blowing his cover. So he had no choice but to grit his teeth and sacrifice the fish and shrimp.

The worst part? They might not even catch anything with this high-end bait.

Crab traps worked best in shallower waters—depths of 30 to 50 meters were ideal. This area was way deeper than that. Once those traps sank, there was no telling whether they’d even be able to find them again tomorrow.

Too late to back out now. If nothing else, just consider it tuition for a lesson learned.

They unboxed the brand-new traps and carefully assembled each one. Given the depth, they added two extra lengths of rope to the existing lines on every trap, just to make sure the end would stay floating on the surface.

The usual floats and buoys were too small, and there was nowhere to tie off the lines securely. Worried they might not be able to locate the traps the next day, Gu Mengran had come prepared with ten inflatable swim rings. Each trap got its own ring plus a float—double the insurance.

Once the traps were ready, they chopped the fish and shrimp into chunks and stuffed the bait cages full. Preparation complete.

Because they’d set out late and lacked experience, all the fiddling around meant it was nearly dusk by the time they finished. The four of them didn’t even have time to wash up—they reeked of fish guts but quickly split up and maneuvered the boats apart.

Laying crab traps didn’t take much technical skill—just a steady hand as you lowered them into the water. But the traps Gu Mengran had bought were large and awkward, making it hard for one person to handle them alone. On top of that, they needed to space each trap about a hundred meters apart, so the boat had to move a bit, stop, then move again.

They pushed hard to make it in time, and just before the sky went completely dark, they managed to get all the traps in the water.

The orange swim rings were especially eye-catching against the gray sea. As the diesel boat turned back, Gu Mengran looked over his shoulder—and spotted a trail of “donuts” bobbing happily across the water.

After a whole afternoon of work, they’d only managed to drop twenty crab traps. Gu Mengran couldn’t shake the feeling that it just wasn’t enough.

So, under the dimming sky, he made his way back to the mooring point. As soon as he spotted the outline of the Windwing, he told Liang Zhao to stop the boat. Then he pulled a hand-cast net out of the cabin and started squeezing in some late-night practice.

Maybe it looked fun, because Zheng Yijie and Xu Xinghe decided to anchor nearby and join him.

…Only to regret it shortly after.

Because what looked simple turned out to be anything but.

There were three common techniques for casting a net by hand. The easiest was the “frisbee method”: hold the rope in your left hand, support the net with your right, then twist your torso and fling it like you’re tossing a frisbee.

In theory, the net should sail out in a wide arc, dragging the rope with it. With a bit of spin, the whole net should bloom open as it hits the water.

In theory.

But when Gu Mengran gathered his strength and hurled the net forward, it landed in the water looking exactly the same as it had in his hands—a messy lump.

He tried every technique he could remember: two-handle method, shoulder-wrap method…

Nothing worked. Worse, one botched throw ended up tangling the whole net.

Frustration crept in. And just as he was wrestling the knots apart, things got worse.

Liang Zhao, copying his original frisbee throw, decided to give it a try. He gripped the rope in his left hand, cradled the net with his right, leaned back slightly—then with one fluid motion, he cast it out—

The net opened up in the air like ripples on water, layer by layer, the lead weights hitting the surface with a splash. A perfect, full circle spread out on the sea.

It was textbook.

Gu Mengran shot to his feet, stunned. “Wait—what? You’ve done this before? How’d you get it right on the first try?”

Liang Zhao calmly reeled the net back in, giving it a quick shake as he flashed a faint smile. “Never learned. Maybe just lucky.”

“Yeah right. I don’t buy that for a second,” Gu Mengran narrowed his eyes and jerked his chin. “Do it again.”

“Sure,” Liang Zhao agreed easily, already resetting the net.

Same stance. Same motion. Same flawless arc. The net hit the water, opening perfectly once more.

Some people were just born to fish.

Gu Mengran gave up resisting. He grabbed Liang Zhao’s arm and shook it eagerly. “Teach me! Come on, hurry up—I wanna learn too!”

Liang Zhao’s hands were wet, so he bumped Gu Mengran’s head lightly with his own. “It’s late. Tomorrow. We’ll head out early—once the traps are in, we’ll have all the time in the world to practice net casting.”

“No way—I’m not going to sleep until I get this down!” Gu Mengran insisted.

Liang Zhao chuckled, then asked, “Aren’t you hungry?”

Gu Mengran paused, then checked in with himself. “Actually… yeah, kind of.”

“Then let’s head back.”

“Let’s go.”

There’s no such thing as a hard task—if you’re willing to give up.

……

He’d been obsessing over those crab traps all night and barely slept a wink. So the next morning, they were up at the crack of dawn. Even though it was still barely light out, the four of them were already squeezed into the diesel-powered boat, eyes barely open from exhaustion.

It was freezing and they were dead tired—just asking to catch a cold.

The metal boat cabin was too cold to nap in. So for the entire hour-and-a-half trip, all they could do was yawn and tough it out. By the time they reached the coordinates, Gu Mengran was so sleepy his brain had basically shut down.

“Mengran, wake up… hey, we’re here.”

He hadn’t heard a single word before that, but the words “we’re here” landed like a bucket of ice water. Gu Mengran snapped upright, blinking rapidly as he looked around. “We’re here? Where are the float rings?”

It was a wintry mix of sleet and snow, more rain than snow, and a heavy mist hung over the sea. Visibility had dropped sharply.

Not a single sign of their bright orange float rings. Even the white buoy balls, no bigger than a fist, were nowhere in sight. Gu Mengran felt his heart lurch and turned to Liang Zhao, clinging to a last bit of hope. “Are the coordinates right? Could we be off? Why aren’t any of them here…”

“The coordinates are correct.” Liang Zhao’s brow furrowed briefly, but he quickly relaxed again. He gave Gu Mengran’s shoulder a reassuring pat. “Don’t panic. We left the ropes long, and there was wind last night—they probably drifted. Let’s search the area first.”

He picked up the radio and called the second boat. Then the two vessels split up, sweeping left and right to search the surrounding waters.

And sure enough, Liang Zhao was right. It didn’t even take five minutes before Zheng Yijie and Xu Xinghe spotted the missing float rings and buoys just ahead, a little off to the left of the original coordinates.

The float rings were big and lightweight, so it made sense they’d been carried off by the wind. Of the twenty they’d set, eighteen remained. All the ropes were intact—none had snapped. Three of the rings had deflated a bit, but they were still afloat thanks to the backup buoys.

So far, things were looking pretty good.

Whether or not they’d be setting more crab traps in the future would depend on how this first batch turned out.

Liang Zhao pulled in the rope and hauled the float ring onto the deck. Then he secured the line to the hand crank they’d set up in advance. One person pulled the rope while the other cranked—and before long, a massive metal cage broke the surface of the water.

Gu Mengran was on rope duty. Honestly, halfway through pulling, he could already tell—the trap was light. Way too light. It felt exactly like when they dropped it in yesterday.

Splash!

Water sprayed in all directions as the trap broke the surface, fully intact.

Everyone stared at it, hopeful.

As expected—the trap was completely empty. The bait had soaked up seawater and turned into a mushy mess of scentless rotten fish and shrimp. Not even a single crab leg inside.

Disappointment was inevitable. Gu Mengran was just about to sigh when Zheng Yijie and Xu Xinghe chimed in, one after the other:

“Come on, most people leave them for a day or two. Ours were only in overnight. Totally normal to come up empty.”

“Exactly. And we’ve got plenty more to pull. If we get even one crab today, that’s a win.”

Strangely enough, that little bit of banter actually helped. The frustration caught in Gu Mengran’s chest eased up. He shook off the gloom, lifted his chin, and said, “You’re right. Let’s go. We’ll pull ’em all together.”

No expectations, no disappointments. Gu Mengran was ready to shrug it off and even thinking about scouting a new spot later. But just then, Liang Zhao cranked up the second trap—and the moment the black metal cage surfaced, something bright flashed before their eyes.

Gu Mengran squinted—bright blue legs, bright blue claws.

A blue swimmer crab.

He wasn’t expecting anything, and now the sea had tossed him a surprise. Gu Mengran practically jumped out of his skin, waving his arms and stomping in excitement. Sure, it was just one crab chilling solo in its massive cage—but it meant one thing: The method worked!

“Pull, pull, pull! Keep going!” Gu Mengran shouted, instantly re-energized, dashing off to grab the next float ring.

It was turning into a big day. Almost at the same time, a shout came from the other boat:

“Blue swimmer crab—holy shit! This one’s huge!”

“Brother Gu! Brother Liang! We got a jackpot over here! The trap’s packed full!”

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