After speaking, he released his hand, covered Wolfgang with the blanket, and said softly, "Rest well, Father."
"I will return to Salibia immediately after I send the Yan people out to sea. This is something I must do. I have many things to ask the Yan Emperor, and he is willing to give me advice."
"This entire journey will be a time for me to communicate with them."
Wolfgang, who had lay back down, looked at Dingle for a long time before finally replying, "Okay."
Dingle nodded: "Then I'll be going now. We'll leave first thing tomorrow morning. You don't need to come over. Get some sleep."
After speaking, Dingle said no more and turned to walk towards the door.
As soon as the door opened, Wolfgang's hoarse voice came from inside the room:
"son."
"Hmm? What's wrong?"
Dingle, who had just opened the door, stopped and turned to look behind him. Wolfgang had already sat up in bed.
Wolfgang's face was wrinkled and tear-streaked, and his gray hair made him look even older. He opened his mouth but did not give an immediate answer.
"What's wrong, Father? Is there anything else you want to tell me?"
“Hmm…no.” Wolfgang shook his head.
Dingle looked at him with a puzzled expression, then said, "Alright, then you get some rest, I'll be going now."
But as soon as he turned his face, he said, "Sorry, son."
The voice behind him was very soft, but Dingle still heard it. He turned around and looked at his father with a puzzled expression: "Why do you say that?"
Wolfgang's lips trembled as he said, "I have done too many wrong things, to the country, to the people, and to you, I have not been a good father."
"Forgive me for my past..."
Before he could finish speaking, Dingle had already turned and strode towards Wolfgang. He reached the bedside, bent down, opened his arms, and embraced Wolfgang tightly.
“Don’t say that, Father. As you said, it’s all in the past.”
“You don’t need to apologize to me; I should be apologizing to you. I’m sorry, Father. Please forgive my past disrespect.”
Wolfgang, who had never been held by his son before, was momentarily at a loss, but he quickly reached out and hugged his son back, tears welling in his eyes, and sobbing as he said:
"well."
Dingle released one hand, wiped away Wolfgang's tears, and said with a comforting smile:
“A man shouldn’t cry, especially someone like you who has to shoulder the heavy responsibility of the country. People will laugh at you if you do.”
Upon hearing this, Wolfgang wiped his face and nodded, saying, "This is the last time."
After saying that, he patted Dingle on the shoulder:
"Let's go, kid."
"Yes, you should get some rest."
Dingle agreed, turned and walked towards the open door. Just as he was about to close the door behind him, Wolfgang's instructions came from inside:
"Come back soon, son, I'm waiting for you."
"Okay, I'll be back as soon as possible, maybe in less than a month and a half."
Dingle responded, gently closed the door, and departed.
——
The night is still long.
After leaving his father's room, Dingle did not go back to rest; instead, he left the castle by carriage.
The carriage traveled along the wide street, and Dingle lifted the curtain of the carriage window, quietly watching the night outside.
The black flags that had been planted along the road were removed a few days ago, which made the roadside view much more open. The wind blowing in from the window was also warm and cool, and even carried the fresh scent of grass and trees from the night.
As the carriage left the straight road outside the castle and entered the city, the outlines of buildings appeared along the roadside, and almost every house in sight had its lights on.
Looking at the hazy, warm yellow light, and the faint aroma of dinner wafting in from the window, Dingle leaned back in his chair, slowly closed his eyes, and let out a long breath.
After some time, Dingle, who had unknowingly been dozing off, was gently awakened by the coachman:
"Colonel, we've arrived at the bus stop."
"Uh, we've arrived?"
"Yes, I just arrived."
Still feeling sleepy, Dingle opened his drowsy eyes and habitually took out his pocket watch; it was already seven o'clock in the evening.
He put away his pocket watch, stood up and was about to get out of the carriage when the driver hesitated and said, "Colonel, if you want to go back to the Royal Castle, can you get back before eleven o'clock?"
Dingle looked at him, puzzled: "Hasn't the curfew been lifted?"
The driver smiled apologetically, scratching his head, and said, "My wife and daughter want to wait for me to come home. Tonight is... well, it's okay, you can be a little late."
"Sorry, never mind..."
Before he could finish speaking, Dingle nodded to him, interrupting, "Okay, I understand. I'll be back before eleven o'clock."
"Maybe it won't even take until 11 o'clock."
"Thank you!" The coachman bowed deeply to Dingle, who had just alighted from the carriage, and expressed his heartfelt gratitude.
Dingle walked past him toward the bus stop, but before he had taken more than a few steps, two men standing at the entrance of the bus stop ran toward him and greeted him.
"Colonel!"
"Colonel, it's been a long time since I've seen you. What brings you here?"
The two who arrived were Huffman and Pokel, survivors of the Sixth Army who had been entrusted by General Dylan to escort Dingell back to Salibia. They looked at Dingell with delight.
Upon seeing them again, Dingle smiled and said, "I came here to find you."
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