novelAbuy Chapter 183 The Night the Dike Was Breached
Chapter 183 The Night the Dike Was Breached
The rain began to fall gradually after nightfall, and around midnight, instead of stopping, it became increasingly dense and rapid. Large raindrops pounded against the tents, flags, and muddy ground, creating a continuous, unsettling patter. The night sky was as black as ink, without stars or moon, save for the occasional flash of lightning that briefly illuminated the rolling clouds and the shadows of trees struggling in the gale, before being swallowed by the deeper darkness and the rumbling thunder.
In the middle reaches of the Han River, near a winding section known as "Laolong Bay," visibility is extremely poor. Deviating from the main channel, the riverbanks are overgrown with reeds and dotted with rolling hills, a place rarely visited even during the day. In the dead of night, amidst the torrential rain, it is like a forgotten corner of the world. Only the mournful sound of the rushing water crashing against the rocks and the mournful howl of the wind and rain sweeping through the reeds create a primal, chilling cacophony.
However, in this darkness that seems to be solely governed by the power of nature, some shadows, darker than the night itself, move silently, like the most patient predators.
Dozens of carefully selected Star Army assassins, along with several craftsmen "invited" by Jia Wen who were familiar with local hydrology and had even participated in small-scale water conservancy projects in the previous dynasty, were currently lying in ambush at their designated "work site." They were covered in waterproof mud and charcoal ash, almost blending into their surroundings. Only when lightning flashed could one catch a glimpse of their motionless figures pressed against the ground, and the cold, focused glint in their eyes, like that of wolves.
According to the results of several days of repeated investigations by the water conservancy and geomantic experts dispatched by Jia Wen, about half a mile upstream from "Laolong Bay," there is an ancient flood discharge channel remnant that has been silted up and abandoned for a long time. Its direction is exactly diagonal to the southeast. If dredged and guided, some of the surging Han River could be diverted to the low-lying area between Wulin and Jingling. The key to diverting enough water is to blast open the not-too-thick but quite sturdy earthen and stone barrier between the ancient flood discharge channel and the main river channel.
The assassins were divided into three groups. One group was responsible for perimeter security, lying in ambush on distant high ground and deep in the reeds, watching for any enemy scouts or fishermen who might approach. Another group consisted of elite engineers, carrying specially made wooden shovels and crowbars with iron tips. Under the cover of torrential rain and darkness, they were carrying out the final clearing at the entrance of the ancient flood discharge channel, digging away the accumulated silt, weeds, and tree roots to widen the inlet as much as possible. The last group, and the most crucial one, was led by three of the most skilled craftsmen from the Inspectorate's workshop, who were experts in demolition. They carried several packages of gunpowder sealed with layers of thick oiled paper and wax, along with long fuses. They clung to the damp rock wall below the partition beam like geckos, carrying out the final loading of the explosives.
"Boss, the medicine packets are in place, as you instructed, in a triangular shape, all in the cracks between the rocks and the thinnest parts of the soil," a young craftsman, soaked to the bone but suppressing his excitement, whispered, his voice barely audible in the wind and rain.
The leader was an old, taciturn craftsman with a scarred face. He stretched out his thin but steady hand and checked the sturdiness of the medicine packets and the connection of the wicks one by one. He then looked up at the dark top of the partition beam, where only rainwater was constantly pouring down, and at the distant, unsettling sound of the rushing river.
"The water level has risen again," he said hoarsely to a Star Army captain beside him responsible for communications. "In at most another hour, this beam will probably collapse on its own. This 'fire' is to give it its final push. Leave a three-zhang (approximately 1.3 meters) wick, light it, and everyone immediately retreat to Hill Two according to the predetermined route. Do not turn back! In the water, you can run faster than a horse!"
The captain nodded emphatically, wiped the rain from his face, and gestured to the people around him. The group quietly began to retreat, leaving only the old craftsman and another assistant to make the final preparations for lighting the fire.
Meanwhile, in a secluded ravine less than two miles from the work site, Dian Xiong personally led five hundred elite soldiers of the Trapped Camp, standing silently in the rain like statues. They carried no torches, and their armor had been temporarily modified to prevent glare; only the faint sound of rainwater flowing through the gaps in their armor could be heard. Dian Xiong stared intently at the direction of several sentry posts in the darkness ahead, one hand gripping the hilt of his longsword, his muscles bulging. His mission was to ensure that no unexpected events would interfere with the dike-breaking operation. To this end, before nightfall, he had ordered his men to eliminate three possible Allied patrol teams in the vicinity, and the bodies and traces had been properly disposed of.
Time ticked by in the suffocating wait. The rain intensified, the wind howled, and it seemed as if only the raging rain and wind, along with the heavy pounding of each person's heart, could be heard in the world.
Finally, a faint sound, almost completely drowned out by the wind and rain, resembling the cry of an owl, came from the direction of the work site—this was the agreed-upon signal that "readiness is complete".
Dian Xiong's spirits lifted, and he barked, "Everyone, one last check of your weapons, prepare for backup!"
A very faint metallic scraping and rustling sound of armor echoed from the mountain valley.
Beneath the beam of Laolongwan, the old craftsman made one last check to make sure no one else was around. He took a deep breath of the cold air, thick with the pungent smell of water, and pulled out a well-preserved tinderbox wrapped in multiple layers of oilcloth from his pocket. With steady movements, he blew on it, and the faint flame flickered stubbornly in the downpour, illuminating his wrinkled and scarred, yet utterly serene face, and the three wicks twisted together, each directed to a different medicine packet and soaked in tung oil to aid combustion.
Without hesitation, he brought the flame close to the end of the wick.
"laugh--"
A faint burning sound rang out, and the flame on the wick flickered in the rain before spreading rapidly along the oil-soaked hemp rope, drawing three fleeting red lines in the darkness, like the guidance of death, quickly disappearing into the earth and darkness.
The old craftsman didn't even glance back; he turned and ran, his movements faster than an old man's. He rushed desperately towards Hill Two along the muddy but relatively flat retreat route he had already scouted. The wind and rain lashed his face, almost blinding him, but he had only one thought in his mind: Faster! Faster still!
About ten breaths later—
"BOOM!!!"
A deep, yet incredibly penetrating roar echoed clearly even amidst the raging wind, rain, and thunder! It wasn't a deafening explosion, but rather a painful groan from the depths of the earth. Immediately following was a tremendous rumble of collapsing earth and rocks, a sudden change in the river's course, and a teeth-grinding sound, like a giant beast breaking its chains!
The beam was blown open! Not completely shattered, but torn open with a gruesome rift several meters wide and several feet deep!
The surging river water, which had been confined in the "Old Dragon Bay" channel and was already poised to burst forth, seemed to have found an outlet. It roared deafeningly, carrying with it shattered earth, rocks, and vegetation. It rushed out along the dredged ancient flood discharge channel and surged toward the low-lying darkness in the southeast!
The water dragon bursts forth from the sluice gate, its momentum unstoppable!
Almost simultaneously with the explosion, Norio roared, "Retreat!" Without hesitation, the elite troops of the Trapped Camp turned and retreated rapidly along another predetermined route to higher ground, far from the flood channel. They could feel the ground trembling beneath their feet and hear the increasingly loud and approaching roar of the water behind them, like a stampede of ten thousand horses!
On Hill Two, the demolition team and engineers who had retreated there earlier lay prone or crouched, their eyes fixed intently on what lay below. Through occasional flashes of lightning, they saw a murky, foamy "wall" gushing forth at an alarming speed from the breach, surging forward along the ancient flood channel. Wherever it passed, shrubs were uprooted, saplings snapped in half, and low-lying areas were instantly submerged!
It worked!
The water surged even faster than expected! The power accumulated by the rising Han River over the past few days was partially released at this moment. Although most of the river water still flowed along the main channel, this diverted stream was enough to form a raging torrent in the low-lying areas and merge with the Xia River, heading straight for Wulin!
"Hurry! It's not safe here either! Get to the final rendezvous point!" the captain in charge shouted hoarsely, not daring to delay for even a moment.
The group rose again and staggered through the wind and rain towards the designated safe area further away. Behind them, the floodwaters roared ever louder, as if threatening to engulf everything.
Meanwhile, in the distant Wulin and Jingling directions, torrential rain and darkness masked all unusual sounds. Exhausted, resentful, and with their vigilance lowered due to the terrible weather, the allied soldiers mostly huddled in their makeshift tents, cursing the awful weather and worrying about their uncertain future, completely unaware of the impending catastrophe that was quietly approaching them.