The moon shone brightly, glimmering like a silver coin tossed carelessly across the heavens, casting its cold light over the black stone canyon. There, nestled within the deep shadows, stood a towering structure—an immense dam, meticulously and secretly constructed from reinforced logs and carefully stacked stones. The water, which had been steadily accumulating for weeks, shimmered under the moon's watchful eye, forming an artificial lake that whispered with the restrained power of a chained dragon ready to break free.
Seated firmly atop his chestnut horse, Luo Wen raised a hand in a slow, deliberate gesture, pointing toward the massive barricade with an expression as cold and impassive as carved granite. Surrounding him, his generals—Kang, Wei, and Ming—watched in silence, their faces dimly lit by the flickering flames of trembling torches that cast long, wavering shadows on the ground. Behind them stood a weary band of soldiers, no more than three hundred in total, their silence deeper than the night itself.
"Since when… has this been here?" murmured Kang, the battle-hardened veteran whose mutilated arm told its own story. He stepped cautiously toward the edge of the dam, and his voice quivered slightly as his eyes met the dark waters licking the wooden structure, like a beast barely restrained, eager to be unleashed.
"Since long before An Lu and Yuan Guo dared cross our borders," Luo Wen replied calmly, as he unfurled a weathered map across the flat surface of a nearby rock. "Every step of our retreat, every apparent defeat… was a deliberate move, drawing them right here, into the low valley beneath this canyon."
Wei, the youngest of the generals, clenched his fists tightly. A scar traced across his cheek, and under the pale moonlight, it pulsed like a wound not fully healed.
"Why didn't you tell us?" he demanded, his voice filled with both pain and accusation. "We lost thousands! Men who believed in us—men who were loyal!"
Luo Wen turned his head slowly toward him. In his eyes danced the reflection of the still waters, like a mirror to his unspoken thoughts.
"Because An Lu has eyes and ears even among those I call my own," he said at last, each word dropping into the stillness like stones thrown into a quiet pond. "One loose tongue, one careless whisper, and this dam would have been reduced to ashes before the first sword was drawn."
Ming, the quiet and contemplative strategist, knelt beside the water and gently tapped its surface with the tip of his blade. His brow furrowed in thought.
"This valley… it's a natural basin," he murmured, as though solving a riddle long unsaid. "All the runoff from the spring rains gathers here."
Luo Wen nodded slowly. "Exactly. And now, An Lu's entire army is camped at the bottom of it."
Far below, in the moon-drenched valley, the troops of An Lu and Yuan Guo reveled in their apparent victory. Their tents sprawled across the damp earth like clusters of poisonous mushrooms, and soldiers passed stolen wine around fires that flickered and danced like mocking eyes in the darkness. An Lu, ever wary despite the celebration, moved quietly between the rows of tents, his eyes scanning the clear sky above.
"No patrol has reported anything unusual?" he asked, his voice low but firm, addressing one of his captains.
"Nothing at all, Your Excellency," replied the man, his speech slurred slightly with drink. "Luo Wen's remnants are hiding like rats in the mountains. They're done for."
Above them, high upon the dam, Luo Wen unsheathed his sword. The steel sang as it slid against the stone, a cold and clear note that rang through the air like the beginning of an ancient war song.
"It's time," he said, his tone unreadable.
At once, a group of soldiers surged forward toward the wooden supports of the dam. Armed with axes and iron crowbars, they began striking the main beams with the strength of men who understood the gravity of their task. Each impact echoed like the beating of a war drum passed down from the days of old.
"Fall back!" Luo Wen commanded, guiding his horse toward a higher ridge overlooking the valley.
His generals followed without hesitation, their faces pale and drawn. Ming, ever perceptive, was the first to grasp the full extent of the plan.
"The water… it won't just drown them. This entire valley is shaped like a funnel. The current will sweep away their supplies, their weapons…"
"And their spirit," Luo Wen concluded grimly, watching as the first beam cracked with a groan that split the night wide open.
The dam broke like a dry bone under immense pressure.
At first, there was a low moan. Then, a deafening roar. The water surged forward with terrifying force, crashing down the canyon walls, swallowing rocks and trees in its path, and dragging with it all the debris accumulated over countless silent weeks. Down in the valley, drunk on their own triumph, An Lu's soldiers were slow to hear the sound. By the time they turned their eyes toward the mountains, it was too late—a massive, black wave of water and mud was already bearing down upon them like the hand of vengeance itself.
An Lu shouted orders, but his voice was lost in the chaos. Horses screamed, rearing in terror before being swept away. Tents crumbled like cobwebs beneath the torrent. Yuan Guo, attempting a desperate escape on horseback, was struck by a tree trunk hurtling down the flood. It crushed him against a jagged rock. His final cry was smothered by the choking floodwaters.
On the hilltops, Luo Wen stood unmoved, his eyes fixed on the maelstrom below. Beside him, Wei gasped for breath, gripping his horse's reins as if to steady himself.
"All of this… was it truly part of the plan?" the young general asked, watching the valley become a sea of death and wreckage.
"No," Luo Wen said quietly, without turning his gaze away. "This is merely the beginning."
With a single motion of his hand, he pointed toward the east. There, cloaked in the shadows of the mountains, hundreds of torches began to flare to life, their flames blooming like stars across the darkness. These were the remnants of his army—scattered and hidden for days, gathered again by loyal couriers who existed only in whispers and who never appeared in any official record.
"The survivors of the Ling Gorge…" Kang murmured, eyes widening as he recognized the banners. "I thought they were lost."
"They withdrew under orders," Luo Wen explained, his voice calm and resolute. "Now, they advance."