Alaska’s Underground Main City, Central Stone Tower.
"Merry Christmas!" Scholars removed their hats and bowed in greeting.
Zheng Rong squeezed himself out of a group of graduate students wearing Christmas hats. They were passionately discussing the banquet at the Central Stone Tower that evening and had all agreed that the professor would make a speech.
"This is ridiculous," Zheng Rong said dismissively. "Fine, Merry Christmas, now please let me through."
"Oh, Zheng Rong," Joseph noticed him in the hallway and hurried over. "Hey! Why don’t we have dinner together in the hall? Xiang Yu probably won’t make it back tonight. This morning, he told us to spend the evening with you."
Zheng Rong, holding a stack of documents, replied, "No thanks, Joseph. I don’t buy into the nonsense about getting pregnant by staring at the night sky. Sure, I study the occult, but I can tell the difference..."
"Oh, come on, Zheng Rong," Joseph said, both amused and exasperated. He knew that Zheng Rong was about to make a joke.
As expected, Zheng Rong quipped, "If you hurry home to your stable now, you might still catch a glimpse of the three wise men coming from the East. Merry Christmas, carpenter."
Zheng Rong pressed the elevator button. As the doors closed, Joseph shook his head with a wry smile.
Zheng Rong stared blankly at his reflection in the elevator door. His eyes were clear, and a chip was tied around his neck.
With a ding, the elevator reached his floor. Zheng Rong returned to his room with a pile of materials, tossed the books onto the bed, fetched some water, and started brewing coffee.
Outside the Central Stone Tower, the music of "Silent Night" played. Despite the lively holiday night, many scholars remained in their rooms, choosing not to join in the celebration. Zheng Rong was one of them.
Xiang Yu had gone for military training, and Zheng Rong had barely left his room for almost three months.
He was reading a document on his computer when, after a while, he leaned back in his chair and took a sip of coffee. Suddenly, a group of cartoon characters appeared on the screen, dragging a sleigh that came to a halt. Zheng Rong almost spat out his coffee.
In one corner of the screen, the cartoon characters set up a Christmas tree, and glowing words appeared in a corner of the screen: Merry Christmas, Zheng Rong.
Zheng Rong stared quietly. The program had been written years ago by Zheng Feng, still in Chinese. He moved the mouse to close the program, but it wouldn’t shut down. He gave up trying.
Another line of text appeared: I won’t be able to come home for New Year’s, so you should go out and get some fresh air. Don’t stay cooped up inside.
Zheng Rong sighed. The cartoon characters on the screen began setting off fireworks, and suddenly another message popped up.
Zheng Rong, I’ve made time for you. I’m waiting by the fountain at the Science Hall. Let’s spend Christmas Eve together.
“Lance?” Zheng Rong sneered coldly. “I’m not a Christian.”
The words changed again: You don’t have to be a Christian to celebrate this holiday. I’m not one either. Would you go on a date with me?
"..."
Zheng Rong raised an eyebrow. Who could it be? The tone sounded a little like Xiang Yu.
He stood up, found a formal jacket, and put it on, skipping the tie. He donned a beret and stood at the door for a moment, hesitating. Finally, he opened the door and stepped into the hallway.
At the Science Hall, a giant Christmas tree stood tall, and the sound of a piano filled the air. Among the scholars were some musical geniuses. Perhaps, since ancient times, science and art have shared a subtle connection. No hired musicians were needed; the scientists had formed their own classical orchestra. As Bach’s Air on the G String played, Zheng Rong felt his mood lighten considerably.
“Thank you,” he said politely to a server as he took a cocktail from a tray.
“Hey, Zheng Rong! You actually came!” Joseph, with his arm around Lin Siyin, called out from afar with a smile. “There’s roast turkey and steak at the table over there, really delicious.”
Zheng Rong gave a half-hearted nod.
An American singer was on stage, her voice as sweet as a nightingale. After hearing nothing but military songs for so long, Zheng Rong found the love song surprisingly refreshing. He walked along the fountain’s edge as the singer’s soft voice drifted through the air.
“I wait for the day we discover truth and lies...”
Zheng Rong saw someone standing on the other side of the fountain.
“That day, you will gently kiss me... send me to my death...”
The mist from the fountain obscured his view. The man wore a sharp blue military uniform and held a wine glass, his back to Zheng Rong.
“In my lifetime, I will love you with all I have, until the day I must leave you...”
The singer ended her song on a perfect note, and the scholars applauded. Zheng Rong stopped in his tracks.
It was Lance, surrounded by several beautiful women who were chatting softly, while Lance politely responded to them.
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Sensing something, Lance turned around and saw Zheng Rong.
“I thought it was Xiang Yu,” Zheng Rong said.
Lance took Zheng Rong’s glass, looking into his eyes. “Sorry to disappoint you.”
Zheng Rong said nothing and stood quietly. Lance suggested, “How about... a cocktail?”
He handed Zheng Rong a fresh drink, and they clinked glasses. “Merry Christmas. You’re not a Christian?”
Lance smiled, shrugging.
Standing alone, Lance was undeniably a handsome man. His mixed heritage combined the beauty of the French with the strength of the Germans. However, the men around him had always outshone him—Li Ying’s decisiveness, Xiang Yu’s boldness, all dimming Lance’s light.
Lance had never complained about his lot, always fulfilling his duties quietly, at just the right time.
Zheng Rong thought, If I weren’t Zheng Feng’s brother, just some insignificant person, this guy would probably kick me around now and then.
“Xiang Yu’s in the barracks. After today’s training, the officers will organize some holiday activities for them,” Lance said, sipping his drink. “The next five days are assessments, then they’ll be home for New Year’s.”
Zheng Rong gave a noncommittal nod.
Lance asked, “Where do you want to go? Should we check out the small theater for a movie?”
Zheng Rong replied, “I have no opinion.”
Lance reached out his hand, expecting something. Finally, Zheng Rong took Lance’s pinky finger, letting him symbolically lead them toward the small theater.
On Christmas Eve, the small theater at the Science Hall offered private rooms where guests could buy tickets and stay for two hours, watching a film of their choice.
“What kind of service do you need, General?”
Lance looked a bit embarrassed. “A couple’s booth.”
Zheng Rong: “...”
The attendant glanced at Zheng Rong, then smiled knowingly.
Lance quickly added, “I’ll go... get some popcorn.”
Zheng Rong stood coldly, like an iceberg radiating chill. When Lance returned with the popcorn, he asked, “Picked a movie yet?”
“No.”
“Well... we...”
The attendant suggested, “I can recommend some classic films, perfect for the occasion. We have past Oscar and Golden Globe winners...”
Lance, emboldened, asked, “What would you like to watch, darling?”
Zheng Rong almost lost his temper.
Lance chuckled. “A romance movie...”
“Schindler’s List.”
Lance: “...”
Attendant: “...”
Lance muttered, “That’s... Zheng Rong, I don’t want to watch that!”
“Why? Because you’re German?”
Lance, slightly drunk and bolder, nodded. “How about Men Behind the Sun?”
Zheng Rong: “...”
Lance quickly added, “Okay, sorry, bad joke. Let’s...”
Zheng Rong threw the popcorn at Lance’s head and stormed off.
Ten minutes later, they returned, with Lance having caught up.
Other patrons whispered, “That’s the rich gay couple from earlier...”
Zheng Rong grumbled, “Let’s watch Castle in the Sky by Miyazaki.”
“What’s that?”
Zheng Rong took off his jacket, sank into the sofa, and replied, “It’s an animated film based on the Hanging Gardens of Babylon. It might give me some inspiration. Sit down.”
Lance and Zheng Rong sat in the dark. Lance fidgeted for a moment, then tried to put his arm around Zheng Rong’s shoulder.
Zheng Rong didn’t resist and rested his head on Lance’s shoulder. The screen lit up, and the projector cast light onto the silver screen.
Zheng Rong focused intently on the film, and soon Lance, too, was absorbed, forgetting his original intentions. The two sat together, and the blue in Lance’s eyes reflected the destruction of Laputa, the Castle in the Sky. The boy and girl held their glowing pendants and recited the spell of destruction.
The film’s ending was breathtaking. The ruins of Laputa fell into the sea, and a massive tree glowing green slowly ascended into the atmosphere. Joe Hisaishi’s music swelled, haunting and beautiful.
When the movie ended, Zheng Rong was still lost in thought. Lance, too, was struck by the film’s simplicity, and the adventures on screen seemed as though he and Zheng Rong had experienced them together.
“I’m going to bed,” Zheng Rong sighed.
Lance said, “I’d like to keep walking.”
For once, Zheng Rong agreed, “Let’s take a lap around the inner ring.”
Lance shook out his coat and helped Zheng Rong into it. “Are you thinking about the Hanging Gardens?” he asked.
“No,” Zheng Rong replied. “I’m thinking about the robots...”
Lance murmured, “I was thinking about that moment when the girl jumped from the tower, and the boy caught her...”
Zheng Rong said, “I didn’t ask what you were thinking. Thanks, Lance.”
Lance smiled awkwardly and muttered to himself, “She trusted him, so she was willing to jump from the tower.”
They walked around the inner ring and stopped where it connected with the outer ring. Zheng Rong smiled and called out, “Brother!”
Xiang Yu was standing guard at the entrance to the outer ring. He glanced at them and saluted.
Lance said, “At ease, Corporal Xiang Yu.”
Xiang Yu placed his hands behind his back and stood at attention.
That’s enough, Zheng Rong thought, tempted to give Lance a slap.
Xiang Yu smiled. “Why are you here? Did you give it to him?”
“No,” Lance replied.
Zheng Rong: “?”
Xiang Yu ruffled Zheng Rong’s hair. “Training ends after the New Year. I’ll be home soon to spend time with you. You go ahead and get some rest.”
Xiang Yu’s neck was stained with dirt, and his face looked tired—it was clear he’d come to stand guard right after training. Zheng Rong frowned. “Didn’t you say they were having entertainment activities?”
Lance hesitated, but Xiang Yu smiled. “I didn’t participate, traded it for an extra day off. I’ll be home by New Year’s Eve, no need to wait until after.”
Zheng Rong nodded, half-convinced. Lance said, “We should go, don’t want to get the sentinel in trouble for talking too much.”
Xiang Yu said, “Take him back.”
Zheng Rong added, “Don’t catch a cold, take care of yourself.”
Xiang Yu waved them off, and Lance escorted Zheng Rong back to the Central Stone Tower.
At Zheng Rong’s door, he casually said, “Thanks, Lance. I had a good time today, even though I haven’t eaten yet.”
Lance: “...”
Zheng Rong continued, “I’ll just go make some instant noodles.”
Lance protested, “No, no, I’ll have them send something up. I’m really sorry, Zheng Rong. I was too nervous.”
As Zheng Rong moved to close the door, Lance tried to hold it open, getting his hand caught in the process and crying out in pain. Zheng Rong grabbed something from a shelf, shoved it into Lance’s hand, and pushed him out, saying, “Goodnight, Lance. Merry Christmas.”
Lance called out, “Wait!”
Zheng Rong was growing impatient. Lance reached into his inner pocket, close to his chest, and pulled out a small box. He handed it to Zheng Rong. “This one’s from me.”
He then retrieved another small package from his coat. “This one’s from Xiang Yu. I’ll go arrange dinner for you, it’ll be up shortly.”
Zheng Rong replied, “Oh,” and then shut the door without hesitation.
Half an hour later, dinner arrived: roasted chicken with chestnuts, medium-rare steak, and a glass of French red wine—a sumptuous meal.
Zheng Rong ate while unwrapping their Christmas gifts. Lance’s gift was a platinum ring engraved with the symbol for Scorpio. Xiang Yu’s gift was a stone he had likely picked up during a snow-crossing expedition, meticulously carved into a small figurine of a dog—Zheng Rong’s zodiac sign.
Back in his dorm, Lance carefully unwrapped the crumpled paper and hung the mistletoe decoration on his wall. He placed it next to a photo of Zheng Feng, Li Ying, Zheng Rong, and himself. He folded the wrapping paper neatly and placed it in a drawer. Zheng Rong’s gift to him was a book—a collection of poems by Petőfi.
On the title page, in beautiful English script, was written:
I dream of the days of bloodshed, when the world will be destroyed,
And on the ruins of the old world, a new one will be built.