The race was about to start. The owners were giving their dogs a final pep talk, usually by feeding them some high-calorie food to excite them. Wang Bo hadn’t prepared any food, but seeing everyone else motivating their dogs, he stepped forward and said a few words:
“Friendship first, competition second. Just run your race, that’s enough. Zhuang Ding, don’t chase the female dogs. Queen, don’t chase the male dogs. Okay, Eva, anything to add?”
A young man feeding jerky to a husky nearby looked utterly bewildered, staring at Wang Bo as if he were a fool.
Zhuang Ding, however, was obedient, raising his head and listening attentively. After Wang Bo finished speaking, Zhuang Ding solemnly nodded in agreement.
The husky owner was even more confused.
The red light spun, signaling the race was about to begin, but someone raised a hand, and the red light stopped. Wang Bo looked curiously and saw that the person’s lead dog had scraped its paw and requested to withdraw.
These dogs were precious to their owners—either beloved like family or extremely valuable. In Northern Europe, sled dog races were common. An average professional sled dog was worth around $3,000, while a lead dog could cost four times as much. High-quality lead dogs could fetch tens of thousands of dollars.
Someone stepped in to fill the vacancy, and everyone re-motivated their dogs.
Eva applied some lipstick and pressed a bright red kiss onto the foreheads of Zhuang Ding and Queen. That counted as her way of motivating them.
The red light spun again and suddenly turned green.
Humans ran on the track with running aids under their feet. Dogs, too, had equipment—but not to assist running; it was to restrain them. The sleds were hooked to the dogs before the start. Once the hooks were released, the dogs, sensing they were unbound, would bolt.
Unlike horses or oxen, dogs were hard to overexert. Once they started running, stopping them required the sled’s anchor to dig into the snow, much like dropping an anchor for a ship. Once the hook was retracted, the dogs would resume running.
As the green light flashed, whistles and shouts erupted. Each trainer had their own start signal; using lights instead of sound avoided confusing the dogs.
Wang Bo didn’t need to worry. With a wave of his hand, Zhuang Ding surged ahead and Queen followed, like two taut arrows shooting from a bow. The sled lifted off the snow as they sped forward, and Dale on top squealed with excitement: “We’re flying!”
Dozens of dogs dashed along the track, not a single bark breaking the silence—proof of their rigorous training. Ordinary dogs would bark when excited, but barking wastes lung capacity and energy.
Zhuang Ding and Queen quickly shrank in Wang Bo’s view, eventually becoming just tiny dots. Looking up, he realized the sky had grown completely dark.
“Let’s go check the results,” he said, pulling Eva along.
Eva’s body trembled slightly. She stared motionless at the north, then raised her hand in amazement: “Oh my god… the aurora!”
Wang Bo quickly looked north. The sky was mostly dark, tinged with a hint of purplish-red, blending into a faint crimson—subtle unless you looked closely.
“Aurora? Where? Isn’t the aurora supposed to be green?” he asked, astonished.
Eva pointed north: “Look quickly, it’s about to appear. Green auroras are most common, but there are other colors too. Don’t you know? Auroras are caused by solar winds entering Earth’s magnetic field near the poles. Their colors aren’t fixed.”
The aurora appeared quickly. Earlier, Wang Bo had only seen faint crimson, but soon the colors became vibrant, with a touch of pink adding even more brilliance.
Eva sighed softly: “We’re so lucky.”
Wang Bo nodded: “Yes. I didn’t expect that just coming here for Christmas, we’d witness such beauty.”
Eva continued: “It’s a red aurora. Much rarer than green. I’ve seen green ones several times, but this is my first red aurora.”
Cheers erupted from across the track, signaling the race had ended.
Eva realized it too: “We’d better hurry—Dale must be anxious.”
Luckily, the aurora hadn’t fully displayed yet, so they weren’t missing the spectacle.
The road was crowded, and vehicles couldn’t pass. Wang Bo and Eva had to walk the 2.5 kilometers on foot.
As they walked, the aurora began to clarify, and spectators turned north, gasping. The race had to pause. The dogs started barking—more and more of them—as if they couldn’t appreciate such a natural wonder.
Even jogging, it took them over ten minutes to reach the end. They saw Dale holding both Zhuang Ding and Queen, pointing and screaming at the aurora.
Zhuang Ding barked excitedly, not at the sky but at the nearby female dogs. Queen remained serene, occasionally glancing at Zhuang Ding with a clear expression: “You idiot!”
When Wang Bo and Eva appeared, Queen noticed immediately and broke free to run over.
Dale saw them too, pouting: “Why are you so late? I came first, you know! Why didn’t you cheer for me?”
Wang Bo sighed: “We walked. Without vehicles, how could we catch up to your sled? You were just too fast.”
Dale was easily appeased. What sounded like a complaint was actually praise, and she beamed: “Of course! We ran the fastest—many people couldn’t believe it!”
Then she frowned: “But without you around, I felt lonely and sad. You have to make it up to me.”
Eva scoffed: “Lonely? Sad? Who was screaming at the aurora the whole time? I didn’t see any sadness at all!”
Dale froze, pointing excitedly at the sky: “Sister, come look! The aurora! So beautiful! It’s Dale’s first time seeing it!”
The aurora’s beauty lay in its brilliance.
As it appeared in the northern sky, it began to transform gracefully.
At first, it looked like red smoke drifting across the night sky, wild and unrestrained.
After a while, Wang Bo and Eva saw it twist into small spirals.
The spirals slowly rotated and seemed to merge into a large whirlpool, glowing a dazzling, seductive red, as if it could draw one’s soul in…
Time passed quickly. The aurora transformed again. From the edges, its light spread outward, forming a vast crimson curtain across the sky.
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