Chapter 681: Forcing a Crossing of the Natural Barrier

Heaven and earth were pitch-black.

Ordinary men could not see what happened to the soldiers after they jumped, but cultivators had eyesight far beyond that of common people. They could see clearly as the churning river swallowed men whole.

Even so, wave after wave of soldiers continued throwing themselves into the water.

The sight moved the watching cultivators deeply, yet there was nothing they could do. There truly was no other way.

Time.

Everything was for the sake of stealing time.

Because of the terrain, no heavy enemy force guarded this place. That did not mean Song had left it unwatched. Before the operation, Yan's side had repeatedly scouted the area and calculated the patrol intervals.

About one hour.

They had only about one hour.

Song cultivators conducted overlapping patrols along the river. The gap available to them lasted no longer than that.

How many men could cross in that time had also been calculated beforehand. Within that hour, the army not only had to cross the river, but also had to get away from the bank and disappear inland as quickly as possible. Otherwise they would be discovered.

Once discovered, Meng Shanming's entire battle plan would come to nothing.

Fifty thousand men were crossing tonight.

There had to be enough of them. Anything less would not produce sufficient effect for the next stage of the plan.

But forcing fifty thousand men across such a dangerous stretch of river in about an hour was brutally tight.

That was precisely what made it a surprise attack.

They had to turn the impossible into the possible. They had to strike precisely where the enemy believed no move could be made.

Whether cultivators helped carry men across or they tried hastily rigging ropeways, neither method could move fifty thousand troops to the far bank within an hour.

There was only one method fast enough.

It was also the most dangerous.

Everything had to be completed within that single hour.

Soldiers clutching round logs continued jumping into the river in batch after batch.

The watching cultivators could no longer bear it.

One of them said, "Everyone lend a hand. However many we can get across, that many survive."

No one objected.

They acted at once.

Each cultivator grabbed one soldier in either hand, carrying two at a time. They skimmed down across the river, deposited the men on the opposite bank, then returned immediately.

The cultivators went back and forth without stopping, determined to help however much they could. Within the limited time available, every extra man they carried across was one more man saved from the current.

The soldiers swallowed by the waves clung to their floating logs, rising and sinking amid the torrent. They let the current drive them diagonally toward the cliff bank on the far side where the river curled back.

This was another reason Meng Shanming had chosen this place.

The riverbank twisted and bent here. Anyone carried downstream by the current would inevitably be driven into the bank.

But the night was too dark.

They could see nothing and had to rely entirely on feel.

The instant a man's log struck the bank, he abandoned it. Still in the water, he forced himself upward and groped desperately for the edge. The moment his hand caught the bank, he clawed upward with everything he had.

Those who had crossed first knelt along the edge. The instant they felt a comrade's hand reach the bank, they seized it and hauled him upward, helping him climb out as quickly as possible.

The men who reached land immediately spread out along the bank and began helping those coming behind them.

This, too, was why Meng Shanming had chosen a night of torrential rain for the crossing.

Normally the cliff bank stood too high. Even after crossing the river, a man in the water could not reach the edge and would have no way to climb up.

Only when the river rose was there any chance.

According to the local villagers they had questioned, once the water reached this height, it was essentially at its maximum.

But again, the night was too dark.

Sometimes it was not the log that slammed into the cliff, but the man himself.

Those who struck lightly suffered only a collision.

Others smashed headfirst into the rock. Their skulls burst apart on impact, and their hands released the logs as their bodies vanished into the torrent.

The scenes made the cultivators on the bank feel as though their eyes would split.

It was too horrible to watch.

One cultivator finally said to an officer, "Why don't we release Moon Butterflies and give them some light? The enemy may not notice for such a short time."

The officer exploded.

He seized the cultivator by the front of his robe.

"Bullshit! Are you trying to get everyone killed? The moment a light appears, if anyone spots it, everything we've done is finished! The brothers who died trying to reach the bank will have died for nothing, and the enemy will surround and annihilate the rest of us as well. Listen carefully. Keep your people under control. Nothing can be allowed to expose us!"

In ordinary times, no cultivator would have tolerated such disrespect without making the man regret it.

This time, the cultivator endured it in silence.

Across the diagonal stretch of water, groups of soldiers continued jumping in with logs clutched to their chests.

On this side, groups of drenched men continued crawling ashore.

Some failed to strike the bank at all and were swept away by the current. No one knew whether they ultimately lived or died. All anyone could do was hope the log in their arms might keep them alive through the violent water.

Others missed this bank but were driven into the next bend downstream and somehow climbed out on the wrong side, back on Yan's bank.

Cultivators immediately went to them and ordered them to disappear inland and return by another route.

There was no time for a second attempt.

Besides, they had already lost the logs that served as their lifeline. Trying again would be even more dangerous.

The crossing point had been chosen with extreme care. Only this stretch offered a bank low enough to climb after the river rose.

The lucky men washed back onto Yan's side numbered very few.

Most either reached the Song bank or vanished downriver with the current.

In less than an hour, all fifty thousand men had entered the water.

As for exactly how many had successfully climbed onto the far bank, no one there could immediately determine the number.

There was no time to remain in place and count.

Those who made it ashore had to leave at once.

"Move!"

At the command, the surviving troops quickly slipped deeper into Song territory.

Several cultivators remained behind at the bank, using their arts to erase traces of the landing. With the wind and rain assisting them, the signs were soon swept clean.

Other cultivators moved ahead of the army to clear the route, guard against surprises, and help the force advance rapidly toward its target without being easily discovered.

Only after counting men along the way did they learn the result.

A little over thirty thousand had made it across.

Fewer than one thousand had been lucky enough to wash back onto Yan's bank.

In other words, in less than an hour, the river had swallowed nearly twenty thousand men.

Every one of them had belonged to Zhang Hu's personal guard, the elite troops of his central command.

They were veteran soldiers tested through years of battle, old brothers who had followed Zhang Hu through campaign after campaign.

That was exactly why Meng Shanming had chosen them.

They could be trusted.

Their ability could be trusted.

"Twenty thousand old brothers... just gone like that. How many battles did we fight together? How many times did we crawl back alive from the edge of death? They didn't die under an enemy blade, but they died here. I gave that order. How am I supposed to go back and face their families...?"

One officer lowered his head and sobbed.

A grown man cried like a child.

Another officer tipped his face toward the black sky and breathed in great gulps. No one could tell whether the water on his face was rain or tears.

The two men were the Left and Right Commanders of Zhang Hu's personal guard.

Neither could hold back his tears.

A cultivator accompanying them sighed and shook his head.

But grief could not interfere with the mission.

The army continued advancing in silence.

Along the way, the two commanders once again ordered the men to eat.

The rainy night was bitterly cold, and every soldier had been soaked through in the river. They needed food inside them as quickly as possible to warm their bodies. A still greater task waited ahead.

Each man had been issued dry provisions beforehand.

The flat cakes had been soaked into mush by the river, but the soldiers shoved them into their mouths as they marched.

Halfway to the objective, the force reached the foot of a mountain.

There, it split into two columns and disappeared into the darkness...

Thunder rolled and lightning split the sky.

Rain poured down in sheets.

A lone figure stood outside the command tent.

Luo Da'an noticed him first and said quietly, "Master."

Meng Shanming slowly raised his head from the map and looked toward the silhouette outside.

A flash of lightning illuminated the man.

It was Zhang Hu, standing motionless in the pouring rain.

The two stared at each other, one in the light, one in darkness.

Meng Shanming seemed to realize something.

The muscles in his face tightened.

From another tent nearby, Gong Lince noticed something unusual. He flashed across through the rain, landed outside, and only then realized that the man standing there with his back to him was Zhang Hu, Provincial Inspector of Changzhou.

He could not help asking, "Lord Zhang, why are you standing here in the rain?"

Zhang Hu ignored him.

He slowly walked into the tent and stopped before the desk, dripping water onto the ground as he stared at Meng Shanming.

Gong Lince followed him inside.

He could tell something was wrong.

"What happened?"

Zhang Hu still did not answer him.

He asked Meng Shanming instead, "Can I say it?"

Meng Shanming glanced at Gong Lince.

Now that Gong Lince had already noticed and followed them in, there was little point in concealing the matter further.

At last Meng Shanming gave a slight nod.

Zhang Hu's emotions were plainly close to breaking.

His eyes reddened.

He turned his face toward the roof of the tent and spoke through a choked voice.

"Twenty thousand brothers are gone."

Gong Lince stared in surprise.

What twenty thousand brothers?

Meng Shanming's cheek twitched violently.

He had known the crossing would be dangerous, but losing twenty thousand men at once still weighed heavily on him.

He, too, had spent his life in the army.

He understood what those troops meant to Zhang Hu.

If someone offered Zhang Hu one hundred thousand ordinary soldiers in exchange for those men, Zhang Hu would never have agreed.

After a brief silence, Meng Shanming drew a deep breath.

"What about the remaining thirty thousand?"

Zhang Hu's answer came short and hard.

"They made it across."

Made it across where?

Gong Lince looked from one man to the other, bewildered.

Meng Shanming released a long breath.

His back straightened slightly in the chair.

"Summon the generals. We convene immediately!"

"We obey!"

Zhang Hu cupped his hands sharply, turned, and strode out.

The moment he left the tent, he raised one hand and wiped at his eyes.

It was not only the twenty thousand who had died.

The remaining thirty thousand were now deep behind enemy lines, fighting alone.

How many of them would ultimately return alive?

The thought twisted his heart into knots.

He could only hope the icy rain would cool his head and force him to remain calm.

Meng Shanming sat beneath the lamplight and watched Zhang Hu disappear into the darkness.

Gong Lince watched him leave as well, then turned back.

"What exactly happened?"

"Didn't Zhang Hu already tell you?"

"I didn't understand him."

"Thirty thousand men have crossed the river."

"Thirty thousand men crossed the river?" Gong Lince stared in disbelief.

The Dongyu River defenses were sealed as tightly as walls of bronze and iron.

And in weather like this?

Thirty thousand men?

How could that many possibly have crossed?

Meng Shanming added, "Fifty thousand men. Zhang Hu's finest fifty thousand, all old brothers who followed him through years of war. They forced a crossing of the natural barrier. Twenty thousand were lost. Thirty thousand were fortunate enough to make it through."

Then he looked directly at Gong Lince.

"Sect Leader Gong, weren't you urging me to send out the army?"

"The army moves tonight."

"I hope Sect Leader Gong can command the cultivators of every sect to give us their full assistance."

Gong Lince frowned.

"Why did you hide this from me beforehand?"

Meng Shanming replied, "One careless sentence from someone who thinks it unimportant can leak out and decide the victory or defeat of an entire campaign."

"Tens of thousands of men gambled their lives on this."

"It could only succeed. It could not be allowed to fail."

"Beforehand, not the slightest word could leak, nor could there be the slightest unusual movement."

"I hope Sect Leader Gong will understand."

[End of Chapter 681]