Dragon Raja: Lu Mingfei's War Journey

Chapter 84 Christmas Ceasefire

They each took a sip; the cool liquid slid down their throats, carrying a rich fruity aroma, delicate bubbles, and a subtle acidity, followed by a long, lingering sweetness—completely different from the cheap spirits or sugary drinks mixed with alcohol that they were usually served.

"The vintage—around 1906, the bubbles aren't quite coarse enough, the aging time was a bit short, but—it's definitely a good wine." Caesar closed his eyes, savoring it carefully; he hadn't tasted such a fine wine in a long time.

Lu Mingfei didn't understand any of this; he just thought it tasted good, and that was all there was to it. He couldn't explain why.

"I'm wondering what those French guys on the other side are doing right now? Are they also dividing up their Christmas presents and drinking their own champagne? Is their company commander secretly hiding a bottle of good wine to share with his confidants?" He leaned against the trench wall, his gaze fixed on the French trenches across the trench.

"Maybe, or maybe nothing at all. War is unfair to everyone," Caesar said, taking another sip of wine.

Otto and his men next to him began to sing Christmas carols, initially just humming softly so as not to disturb the French troops in the opposite trench.

The singing was intermittent and the tune was not very accurate. Some people couldn't remember all the lyrics and could only hum the simplest chorus repeatedly along with the melody. But slowly, the singing gradually became more complete, and the volume unconsciously increased.

Lu Mingfei leaned against the trench wall, looking up at the night sky. The clouds were thick, and he couldn't see the stars, but occasionally he could see flares rising in the distance, their pale light flashing and disappearing like fireworks.

This is the first real holiday he has experienced since he came into this world.

This Western Lunar New Year's Eve had no firecrackers, no lanterns, no New Year's Eve dinner, only a cold, damp trench and a group of people who could die at any moment.

But it was precisely in this godforsaken place, at this moment when he could lose his life at any moment, that he felt an unprecedented peace, even a touch of warmth.

This felt much more comfortable than the New Year's Eve dinner at his uncle and aunt's house, which was always filled with subtle barriers and a stifling atmosphere, because here, beside him were true comrades-in-arms with whom he could truly entrust his back.

"They sang terribly," Caesar muttered a comment about Otto and the others' singing, but he didn't stop them or interrupt. He just listened quietly, a smile involuntarily creeping onto his lips.

"What did you do for Christmas before?" Lu Mingfei suddenly asked, his gaze still fixed on the snowy sky.

Caesar paused for a moment, as if he hadn't expected him to ask that question.

"Banquets, lots and lots of banquets, crystal chandeliers, silverware, orchestras, and an endless supply of wine. Everyone is laughing, talking about family, the future, and glory."

He paused, and his tone suddenly became somewhat sarcastic.

"It's very lively, but actually—it's pretty much the same every year. Sometimes I can't remember which year's Christmas it was or who I met."

Lu Mingfei nodded, offering no comment.

Otto and his friends continued singing. Some of them started laughing as they sang, while others suddenly choked up and could only clear their throats forcefully, pretending that their throats were sore.

Lu Mingfei noticed that Karl had his head down, his mouth was moving, but he was barely making a sound.

"He's homesick," Caesar said softly, following his gaze.

"Who wouldn't want that?" Lu Mingfei said.

As the song drew to a close, the last note dissipated in the cold wind, leaving behind an indescribable sense of emptiness.

"Merry Christmas," Otto said, sniffing hard and trying to sound casual.

"Merry Christmas," someone replied.

Lu Mingfei also said something, but his voice was very soft. However, when their singing ended, the French army's singing came from the opposite trench.

Lu Mingfei, Caesar, and Otto were all stunned.

"They're celebrating Christmas too, so they probably won't attack today," Otto said.

"Probably," Carl said from the side.

Lu Mingfei lay on the trench. He saw the firelight coming from the opposite trench and some figures clapping and swaying gently to the song.

He turned to Caesar and asked, "Caesar, can you play the piano?"

Caesar raised an eyebrow, a hint of aristocratic pride inadvertently surfacing: "Of course, being proficient in a few musical instruments is basic. Piano, violin, harp—I'm fairly skilled at them all. Why are you asking?"

"There's a piano in that church that should still be playable. Go play a piece for our soldiers."

Lu Mingfei said.

Caesar looked toward the church not far away. Half of the church had been destroyed by artillery fire. Through the collapsed wall, he could see a dusty piano inside. However, the gap in the wall faced the direction of the French trenches. Going there would mean sending himself into the enemy's hands.

"Don't worry, I guarantee they won't be able to shoot you," Lu Mingfei assured Caesar, noticing his concern.

"What kind of music would you like to hear?" Caesar asked after a moment of silence, trusting Lu Mingfei.

"Can you play 'Merry Christmas, Lawrence'?" Lu Mingfei asked. It was the only piece of music he knew related to Christmas, and it was also one of his favorite pieces.

"Merry Christmas, Mr. Lawrence — a work by Ryuichi Sakamoto. You have good taste, Lu Mingfei," Caesar chuckled.

Without another word, Caesar downed the last drop of champagne in his glass, and then, like a cheetah that had been poised for a long time, seized the opportunity, lowered his body, and darted out of the trench at an astonishing speed, rushing toward the ruined church.

"Corporal Caesar!" Otto exclaimed.

The soldiers of the third platoon were all stunned, clinging to the edge of the trench, their hearts in their throats.

At the same time, Caesar's actions undoubtedly shattered the fragile and delicate calm on the battlefield.

The French soldiers in the trenches stopped singing, and Lu Mingfei could even hear the sound of the French soldiers pulling back their rifle bolts on the other side.

"Platoon leader?! This—" Otto and the others stared in disbelief.

But Lu Mingfei didn't explain anything. He took a deep breath, handed the revolver at his waist to Otto, and then climbed out of the trench with the bottle of champagne and a Christmas tree, heading towards the center of the battlefield.

He spread his arms to indicate that he was unarmed, then went to the very center of the death zone, planted the Christmas tree in his hand on the ground, and raised his champagne glass to toast the French trenches opposite.

In the French trenches opposite, someone poked their head out and quickly retreated. Lu Mingfei could clearly feel those dark gun barrels pointing at him. If he misjudged, he would be riddled with bullets.

But no gunshot was fired, and everyone was shocked by his bold move.

Just then, the sound of the first piano key being pressed came from the direction of the church.

Ding.

The voice was dry and off-key, with a sluggish quality from long-unused use; then came the second note, the third—

It was intermittent and stumbling, like a toddler learning to walk.

That was Caesar testing the piano; it was clearly in poor condition, with many keys possibly malfunctioning and the pitch completely off.

But soon, a melody flowed out from the dusty, rubble-covered, dilapidated church.

At first, it was unfamiliar, even somewhat broken, but gradually, the melody became coherent and smooth, carrying a quiet and sorrowful beauty.

It's "Merry Christmas, Mr. Lawrence."

Lu Mingfei stood still, closed his eyes, and the familiar melody pierced through the cold air, entered his ears, and struck his heart.

Each note is like a pebble thrown into a frozen lake, creating layers upon layers of indescribable ripples.

He recalled the scenes from the movie, the prisoner-of-war camp, the complex emotions that transcended friend and foe, and the final "Merry Christmas, Mr. Lawrence."

At this moment, standing in the center of the Western Front in 1915, listening to this piece of music, he felt it was incredibly fitting.

Music has magic.

Especially when this piece of music plays at this time, in this place, and in this way.

Otto and his men lay prone on the edge of the trench, holding their breath. Even the roughest veterans fell silent, listening intently to the moving melody. Some of them unconsciously reddened their eyes.

The French trenches opposite remained silent, but Lu Mingfei could sense that the previous tension and hostility were quietly dissolving in the strange music, replaced by a focused listening.

Those heads that had been poked out did not retract, and the muzzles of their guns almost all drooped down.

The sound of the piano echoed across the silent battlefield. It was a melody belonging to humanity, belonging to all the soldiers huddled in the cold trenches at this moment, longing for their homes and loved ones, and yearning for a sliver of warmth and peace.

Caesar played with great passion. Even from across the deserted area, Lu Mingfei could imagine his long, strong hands dancing across the worn piano keys, and his icy blue eyes must be closed, completely absorbed in the music.

As the last note faded, its lingering melody drifted slowly away in the cold wind, and silence returned to the world.

But this silence was different.

Lu Mingfei slowly opened his eyes. He saw figures moving at the edge of the opposite trench—one, two—

A head wearing a steel helmet cautiously peeked out, looking this way, at the lonely Christmas tree, and the equally lonely figure beside it.

A moment later, applause rang out from the opposite trench.

At first, the applause was sparse, but it soon grew louder, a tribute to the music and to Lu Mingfei's bold actions.

Then a figure crawled out of the French trench. The figure also spread out his arms to indicate that he was unarmed, and held a wine bottle in one of his hands.

He walked up to Lu Mingfei and said in broken Prussian, "My name is Michel Bernard, and I am their company commander."

"My name is William Hans, and I'm their platoon leader. I'd like to discuss a ceasefire with you tonight so that our soldiers can have a peaceful and quiet night," Lu Mingfei said.

The French officer, Bernard, hesitated when he saw Lu Mingfei's rank. Lu Mingfei immediately understood that the other party was a captain, while he was just a sergeant.

In a hierarchical military, the opposing side would not feel comfortable discussing such a sensitive and weighty matter as a ceasefire with someone whose rank was significantly lower than their own.

Without a word, he immediately turned to the side, waved vigorously towards the church ruins, and shouted, "Caesar! We need you here!"

Caesar emerged from the ruins of the church, dusted himself off, and walked between Lu Mingfei and French officer Captain Bernard. He first gave Bernard a slight nod, displaying aristocratic etiquette, before saying to Lu Mingfei, "Platoon leader, please consult the company commander. I'll take care of this."

He deliberately used honorifics and maintained a subordinate's posture in front of Lu Mingfei, upholding Lu Mingfei's authority. Clearly, the other party's disdain for Lu Mingfei's military rank displeased him.

Lu Mingfei nodded, turned around and ran quickly back to his own trench. He knew that time was of the essence and any delay could lead to the collapse of the fragile trust.

Inside the trench, Otto and the others were still in shock when they saw Lu Mingfei return and immediately surrounded him.

"Platoon leader, this—will this work?" Karl's voice trembled slightly, whether from cold or excitement, it was hard to tell.

"I don't know. Keep an eye on the other side and stay alert, but don't fire the first shot," Lu Mingfei gave a brief order, then quickly ran towards the company headquarters.

Henrik had clearly heard the unusual noise and was getting restless. When he saw Lu Mingfei burst in, he was so startled that he almost jumped up.

"Hans! What's going on? I heard music—and the sentry reported that someone went into the no man's land! Was it you?!" Henrik's voice was urgent and panicked.

"Yes, Captain," Lu Mingfei reported quickly, standing at attention.

"Captain Bernard, commander of the French 7th Company, contacted me in the no-man's-land and expressed his hope that a temporary ceasefire could be reached tonight, allowing the soldiers to have a relatively peaceful night. He is currently in preliminary negotiations with Corporal Cesare of our side. Now we need your decision on whether to authorize more formal negotiations and to determine the conditions and scope of the ceasefire."

Henrik's mouth dropped open, completely stunned: "Ceasefire? With the French? Right in front of our lines? Hans! Do you know how dangerous this is! What if it's a trap? And if my superiors find out, they'll execute me!"

"Captain!" Lu Mingfei stepped forward, looking directly into Henrik's panicked eyes and said firmly.

"The soldiers on the other side are also singing Christmas carols, and their officers have come out with alcohol. They are all tired, cold, and homesick. This is an opportunity that may save many lives that could be lost tonight due to unnecessary tension and misjudgment. Moreover, if we take the initiative to facilitate this ceasefire and successfully maintain calm on the front line, it will be much easier to write in the report than a bloody conflict that broke out on Christmas Eve."

Henrik fell silent. He was already reluctant to fight, let alone on Christmas Eve. He spoke with some difficulty, "I'll go and see for myself—I must see it with my own eyes before I can decide."

Lu Mingfei then led Henrik toward the front line. At this time, Caesar and Captain Bernard in the no man's land had found a relatively flat piece of gravel to sit on. In the middle of the gravel was the small Christmas tree and two bottles of wine. Caesar was talking to the other party in fluent French.

"You played the piano very well, even though that piano was almost falling apart." Captain Bernard was about thirty years old, with a thin face, and his tense nerves were beginning to relax.

"Thank you. Your wine smells good too, as expected of a Champagne from the Champagne region," Caesar replied, his tone very relaxed.

Seeing Lu Mingfei return with the company commander, the two stopped talking, but the next moment Bernard and Henrik were both stunned.

"Are you Henrik?"

"Are you Bernard?"

Both men said in unison that they knew each other before the war started; Bernard had taken his wife to Berlin for their honeymoon, and that's when they met.

"My God—it really is you, Henrik!" Captain Bernard was the first to react, a look of amusement and exasperation on his face. "If I remember correctly, you got drunk back then and spent half an hour talking about Franco-Prussian friendship while hugging my wife's dog."

Henrik's face flushed red instantly.

"That dog even bit me later," he replied instinctively, then realized the situation was inappropriate and coughed heavily.

"Captain Bernard."

This form of address caused both of them to fall silent for a moment.

Their identities are different now.

They were not strangers in a Berlin tavern, nor officers chatting casually on a foreign journey, but enemies separated by a death zone of 300 meters, who could order each other to fire at any moment.

Lu Mingfei stood aside, not saying a word, just watching quietly.

He knew very well that this moment was no longer in his control; the decision rested with those two.

Captain Bernard glanced down at the small Christmas tree stuck in the mud, then looked up at Henrik and said, "So, what you mean is this?"

Henrik took a deep breath; he could feel the expectant gazes of the soldiers in the trench behind him.

"Ceasefire, tonight only. Neither side shall advance, conduct reconnaissance, or fire. Soldiers from both sides are permitted to move briefly outside the trenches, but shall not carry weapons."

Bernard nodded: "Our conditions are the same."

"It will end before dawn. After sunrise, everyone will return to their positions, and we will still be enemies then," Henrik added.

Bernard nodded: "The war won't disappear just because of Christmas."

The two sighed almost simultaneously. The agreement was not formal; there were no documents, no signatures, and not even a third-party witness. It was as fragile as a piece of paper that would tear in the wind.

But at this moment, it felt more real than any command.

Bernard extended his hand.

Henrik hesitated for a moment, but still shook hands with her.

It was a very brief handshake, done with gloves on and with great restraint, but it was enough for the soldiers around to realize that tonight was truly different.

"Merry Christmas, Henrik," Bernard said.

"Merry Christmas," Henrik replied.

Low murmurs soon rose from both sides of the trench.

The orders were passed down the ranks without bugle calls or passwords; officers simply whispered the words into the soldiers' ears.

Ceasefire, no shooting tonight, and don't cause trouble.

The soldiers' tense nerves gradually relaxed. Some carefully leaned their rifles against the trench wall, while others simply sat down and let out a long breath, as if they had been holding it in for months.

Otto was the first to crawl out of the trench; his movements were still cautious, but his steps were much lighter than before.

"Platoon leader—did you really—successfully?" He walked to Lu Mingfei's side and whispered.

Lu Mingfei nodded.

"At least tonight."

Otto grinned, a smile that was somewhat silly, yet utterly sincere.

More and more people are venturing into uninhabited areas.

They maintained their distance and remained wary of each other, but no longer had their hands on the triggers. Some exchanged cigarettes, some exchanged canned goods, and some introduced themselves using full-foot gestures and even more full-foot language.

Some people showed photos of their family members to the soldiers opposite them, and in return, the soldiers showed their own photos with equal care.

Laughter began to erupt.

It wasn't the kind of loud, unrestrained laughter, but rather a little bit of relaxation that finally leaked out after being suppressed for too long.

Caesar stood beside the Christmas tree and lit a cigarette.

He didn't speak, but just watched all of this quietly, smoke swirling around his golden hair.

"You played very well," Lu Mingfei said as he walked to his side.

"It's just that no bullets hit you; the real expert is you," Caesar replied calmly.

Lu Mingfei shook his head and said, "I just—don't want anyone to die on such a beautiful night."

Just then, one of the soldiers in the trench started a flare that was fired into the sky.

Immediately afterwards, a second, a third—flares from both sides' trenches were fired one after another into the night sky. They were no longer for finding targets, but like fireworks, they witnessed this brief friendship.

Both sides of the soldiers were completely relaxed. Henrik and Bernard sat together drinking and talking about how they first met, while the other soldiers drank each other's food and drinks. Although they couldn't understand each other's languages, the alcohol and the festive atmosphere were the best lubricant.

But amidst this seemingly harmonious atmosphere, Lu Mingfei and Caesar noticed almost simultaneously that a figure was quietly leaving the bustling center of the crowd on the French side.

Lu Mingfei and Caesar exchanged a glance.

"Shall we go take a look?" Caesar asked in a low voice, stubbing out his cigar.

Lu Mingfei nodded: "Be careful, don't cause any misunderstandings."

He didn't want to break this hard-won peace, so the two of them stopped looking around and walked towards the figure.

Beneath the tranquility of Christmas Eve, undercurrents were still surging.