Dragon Boat Race Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Chapter Seven: Fireflies

Introduction: The war pauses, but the heart finds no peace; fireflies fall like stars onto the mortal dust. It is not a night of fine scenery, yet the roots of affection secretly begin to grow.

The news that the Great Khan of the Northern Di had retreated two hundred li spread, and the border situation temporarily eased. The Northern Expedition Army finally gained a much-needed opportunity for rest and recuperation.

This evening, Qin Gong, accompanied by Ah Sheng, strolled to the riverbank near the camp. Days of intense strategizing had left him physically and mentally exhausted. Looking at the shimmering river surface now, he felt his strained nerves finally relax a little.

“Military Advisor, look!” Ah Sheng suddenly exclaimed, pointing at the river.

On the riverbank in the twilight, tiny fireflies quietly lit up, like scattered stars, flickering on and off in the deepening night. More and more fireflies rose from the reeds, weaving into a flowing river of light above the water.

Qin Gong stared blankly at the dreamlike scene, momentarily forgetting where he was. In the modern city, he had never seen so many fireflies.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

A low voice sounded from behind him. Qin Gong turned and saw Wu Ge had also come to the riverbank sometime earlier. He had shed his military uniform, wearing only a set of dark ink-colored casual clothes, appearing particularly tall and straight in the faint glow of the fireflies.

“Commander, why are you here?” Qin Gong was a little surprised.

“I heard you came to the riverbank.” Wu Ge walked up to him and stood shoulder-to-shoulder, watching the fireflies over the water. “You’ve worked hard these past few days.”

“It is my duty,” Qin Gong said softly.

The two watched the scene before them in silence. Fireflies danced in the night sky, reflected in the river water, as if the entire world was enveloped in this gentle luminescence.

“When I was little,” Wu Ge suddenly began, “I often snuck out of the manor on nights like this to watch the fireflies by the river outside the city.”

Qin Gong was somewhat surprised. This was the first time Wu Ge had spoken to him about his past.

“My father was a military general and extremely strict with me,” Wu Ge’s voice carried a hint of nostalgia. “Every time I was caught sneaking out, I’d get a beating with the plank.”

Qin Gong couldn’t help but smile. “I didn’t expect the Commander to be so mischievous as a child.”

“I was ignorant back then,” Wu Ge also laughed. “I always felt that being confined to the manor to study and practice martial arts was not as free as being outside.”

Fireflies danced around them; a few even landed on Wu Ge’s shoulder. In this dreamlike light, his stern features seemed to soften considerably.

“What about you?” Wu Ge turned to look at him. “In your hometown, were there fireflies like this?”

Qin Gong looked at the stream of fireflies filling the sky and gently shook his head. “In my hometown… it’s rare to see a sight like this anymore.”

He thought of the neon lights of the modern city, those glaring artificial lights. How could they compare to the natural beauty before him?

“That’s a pity,” Wu Ge said. “Such beauty should be appreciated with someone important.”

The remark was loaded with meaning. Qin Gong felt his heart skip a beat and subconsciously avoided Wu Ge’s gaze.

The river wind blew, carrying the unique humid scent of a summer night. The distant sounds of the camp’s patrol bells faintly rang out, emphasizing the tranquility of this spot.

“Regarding the Supervising Censor,” Wu Ge suddenly changed the subject, “news has arrived from the court.”

Qin Gong immediately composed himself. “What did they say?”

“The Supervising Censor has been recalled to the capital,” Wu Ge’s voice was calm. “The Prime Minister submitted a memorial pleading guilty, saying he was blind in his choice of personnel.”

This outcome was within Qin Gong’s expectations. The power struggles in the court were never conducted in the open.

“However,” Wu Ge continued, “His Majesty has appointed another Supervising Censor, who will arrive shortly.”

Qin Gong frowned slightly. This meant a new round of struggle was about to begin.

“Don’t worry,” Wu Ge saw his concern. “After this incident, the court will not act rashly for the time being. The new Supervising Censor is a man of the Minister of War, not aligned with the Prime Minister.”

Qin Gong felt slightly relieved. But he knew that the open and secret struggles in the imperial court would never cease.

A firefly gently flew up to Qin Gong, circling in front of his eyes. He instinctively reached out, and the small insect landed on his fingertip, its tail flashing with a soft light.

“It likes you,” Wu Ge murmured.

Qin Gong looked at the firefly on his finger and suddenly felt that this scene was familiar. In his previous life, he had also seen fireflies at his grandmother’s house in the countryside, but back then, he was a carefree youth.

“I hear that in your Jiangnan region,” Wu Ge’s voice pulled him back from his memories, “scholars often incorporate fireflies into their poetry?”

Qin Gong nodded. “The most famous is Du Mu’s ‘Autumn Night’: ‘Silver candle autumn light chills the painted screen, a light silk fan swats the flying fireflies’.”

“A good poem,” Wu Ge praised. “But compared to the lament of a lonely woman, I prefer the firefly itself. Though tiny, it can create its own light in the dark night.”

These words stirred something in Qin Gong’s heart. He looked up at Wu Ge, meeting his deep gaze. In those eyes, he saw emotions different from usual—tenderness, and even a hint of… something he dared not dwell on.

“Does the Military Advisor know,” Wu Ge’s voice dropped lower, “that in the legends of the Northern Frontier, fireflies are the souls of fallen soldiers?”

Qin Gong was stunned. This was the first time he had heard this saying.

“They transform into fireflies,” Wu Ge looked at the stream of fireflies in the sky, “guarding the land they once fought over.”

At this moment, Qin Gong suddenly understood why Wu Ge had brought him to see the fireflies now. The brave souls lost on the battlefield truly needed to be remembered.

“The thousand soldiers under General Zhao’s command…” Qin Gong said softly.

“They are here too,” Wu Ge affirmed. “Guarding us.”

The two fell silent again. But this silence was no longer awkward; instead, it carried an unspoken understanding.

More fireflies gathered, forming a halo of light around them. In this dreamlike glow, Qin Gong almost forgot where he was, forgot the power struggles, and forgot that he came from another time and space.

“Are you cold?” Wu Ge suddenly asked.

Only then did Qin Gong realize that the night dew was heavy, and the river wind carried a chill. Before he could answer, a coat still warm with body heat was draped over his shoulders.

“Commander…” Qin Gong tried to decline.

“Wear it,” Wu Ge’s hand rested on his shoulder for a moment. “Your injury hasn’t fully healed; you shouldn’t catch a cold.”

That brief touch made Qin Gong stiffen. The coat still held Wu Ge’s scent, a mix of grass and leather that wasn’t unpleasant, but rather reassuring.

Just then, Ah Sheng’s call came from afar: “Military Advisor! Commander! Lieutenant Sun has an urgent matter to report!”

The romantic atmosphere was instantly shattered. Wu Ge withdrew his hand, reverting to the authoritative commander he usually was.

“Let’s go back,” his voice returned to its usual calmness.

Qin Gong nodded, taking off the coat to return it to Wu Ge, but the Commander stopped him.

“Keep wearing it,” Wu Ge said. “It’s not too late to return it to me tomorrow.”

On the way back to the camp, the two walked one after the other, without further conversation. But Qin Gong could feel that something had changed.

At the camp gate, Lieutenant Sun was indeed waiting, his face grave.

“Commander, Military Advisor,” he bowed and whispered, “the new Supervising Censor’s schedule has been moved up; he will arrive tomorrow.”

Wu Ge frowned slightly. “That fast?”

“And,” Lieutenant Sun’s voice was even lower, “traveling with him is… the Prime Minister Su’s daughter.”

Qin Gong’s heart jolted. Prime Minister Su’s daughter? What was she doing coming to the military camp at this time?

Wu Ge’s expression instantly darkened. “What is she here for?”

“She claims to be… carrying out an imperial decree to comfort the troops,” Lieutenant Sun said. “But this subordinate feels that the matter is not so simple.”

Qin Gong suddenly recalled the history books and novels he had read in his previous life. At times like this, the appearance of a high-ranking official’s daughter in the military camp often implied…

He dared not think further, only feeling a strange blockage in his heart.

“I understand,” Wu Ge’s voice was devoid of emotion. “Go prepare for the welcoming ceremony.”

Lieutenant Sun took his leave.

Wu Ge turned to look at Qin Gong. In the moonlight, his eyes were complex and hard to read.

“Tomorrow,” he paused, “I’m afraid the Military Advisor will be busy again.”

Qin Gong managed a smile. “It is my duty.”

That night, Qin Gong tossed and turned, unable to sleep. The fireflies on the riverbank, Wu Ge’s gaze, the impending arrival of the Supervising Censor and the Prime Minister’s daughter… all these images intertwined in his mind, leaving him in turmoil.

He got up and lit the oil lamp, watching the flickering flame, and suddenly remembered Wu Ge’s words: “Though tiny, it can create its own light in the dark night.”

But in this complex struggle for power, what could his tiny light illuminate?

Outside the window, fireflies still danced in the night sky, like those departed souls, quietly guarding this land. And the living had to continue navigating through open and hidden attacks.

Qin Gong finally drifted into a hazy sleep as dawn approached. In his dream, he seemed to return to that riverbank, where fireflies rained down, and Wu Ge stood beside him, reaching out his hand…