Chapter 290

Revealing control over the situation and utter disdain. Tukesiluo nodded silently, casting a look of admiration toward Jiang Mingyu—he knew his elder brother's strategy was extraordinary.

The rain still poured relentlessly, but to Jiang Mingyu, this rain was already part of his plan. Rainwater mixed with mud, forming a colossal flood that surged toward Quyang City.

Inside Quyang City, Yu Gaoyang stood atop the ramparts, gazing into the distant darkness. The rain blurred the view along the walls, yet his heart churned with unease. Five days of rain had exhausted the soldiers, and the city's supplies were gradually depleting.

"General Yu, the rain shows no sign of stopping—conditions inside the city will only worsen," a strategist ventured cautiously.

Yu Gaoyang snorted coldly: "No matter how heavy the rain, it won't breach our walls. Do they think this can stop us?"

As soon as he finished speaking, a howling sound echoed from the ramparts. Yu Gaoyang looked up to see a vast torrent surging from the darkness, cascading like a waterfall.

"What's happening?" Yu Gaoyang's face darkened instantly.

The strategist glanced and gasped: "It's floodwater! They've breached the dikes—using water to attack the city!"

Yu Gaoyang's fury erupted. He never imagined the enemy would resort to such cunning tactics. Soldiers below panicked as the flood, like an enraged beast, instantly submerged the low-lying areas beneath the walls.

"Quick! Seal the leaks!" Yu Gaoyang bellowed, but the flood's force grew fiercer. Soldiers rushed to the water's edge with sandbags and stones, desperately trying to hold back the disaster.

In Jiang Mingyu's camp, troops stood guard along the river, monitoring the water's flow. Archers gripped their powerful bows, ready to repel any counterattack from the city. Jiang Mingyu smiled as he watched Quyang City change—his plan was unfolding perfectly.

"Elder brother, it looks like Quyang City is doomed," Tukesiluo exclaimed excitedly to Jiang Mingyu.

Jiang Mingyu nodded: "We hold our position through the night. Don't grow careless. Quyang's counterattack may grow even fiercer."

Deep night fell, the rain unceasing, yet in Jiang Mingyu's eyes burned a cold light. He knew the fall of Quyang City was only the beginning of this war—the greater trials still lay ahead.

A sleepless night passed, the rain falling like cool threads, washing the battlefield. Resistance within Quyang City faded into silence; the lanterns on the walls dimmed. Jiang Mingyu stood by the river, gazing at the distant city—he knew tomorrow would bring an even fiercer battle.

"Prepare for tomorrow's victory," Jiang Mingyu murmured, his gaze filled with anticipation for the future. Tukesiluo stood beside him, his eyes gleaming with resolve.

Jiang Mingyu sat inside his tent, sipping herbal tea that cooled and quenched thirst, its faint fragrance filling the air. He looked out beyond the tent—after the rain, the sky was clear and bright, as if cleansing all dust, granting the world a brief stillness.

That night's rain had washed over Quyang City, bringing Jiang Mingyu's army a moment of quiet. He savored the tea, immersed in the fresh post-rain air, contemplating his next moves.

At dawn the next day, Jiang Mingyu had just finished breakfast when Tukesiluo strode into the tent, radiant with news—clearly, he carried vital intelligence.

"Elder brother, we have word," Tukesiluo said cheerfully.

Jiang Mingyu leaned forward urgently: "What is it? Tell me quickly."

Tukesiluo grinned: "Elder brother, scouts just returned—last night's flood flooded Quyang City. Now it's a vast marsh. Details are still unclear, but Yu Gaoyang won't last much longer!"

Jiang Mingyu's face broke into a satisfied smile. He had long planned to use the rain to drown Quyang City and crush the defenders—now, the plan had succeeded perfectly. Without hesitation, he ordered: "Good. The rain has stopped. Go at once and summon the entire army to assemble—we march now!"

Half an hour later, one hundred fifty thousand troops stood in formation. Jiang Mingyu stood atop the platform, gazing at his morale-boosted soldiers, and declared loudly: "Brave men! Yu Gaoyang is at his last breath—the grain inside Quyang City is calling out to us! March!"

A roar surged like a tidal wave—the army shot forward like arrows loosed from bows, racing toward Quyang City.

As they reached the city's edge, Jiang Mingyu saw for the first time the devastation of Quyang turned to water. No defenders remained on the walls—only floating corpses. He immediately ordered commanders to dam and drain the water, preparing for direct assault.

Hours later, the city gates finally shattered under violent battering. But what Jiang Mingyu saw was utter silence. Inside, the scene was horrific: countless corpses floated in the water, emitting an unbearable stench of decay.

Tukesiluo reported, voice trembling with excitement: "Elder brother, Yu Gaoyang is finished. We'll take this city easily!"

Jiang Mingyu glanced at the sky and nodded: "Good. Heaven aids us. No more delay—assemble again! We march!"

Jiang Mingyu stood waist-deep in murky water, gazing far ahead. Quyang City had become a silent realm of water. Around him rose rooftops emerging from the flood, with occasional panicked birds flying from chimneys or eaves. Nearby, countless bloated, distorted corpses floated, emitting a nauseating stench. Most faces were unrecognizable, yet their clothing still revealed the difference between soldiers and civilians.

Jiang Mingyu's gaze swept over each corpse, a surge of vengeance warming his heart. He remembered years ago, in another flooded city, where his dearest loved ones had been taken. Now, at last, he had avenged them—finally healing the wound of years.

"Plop!" A corpse tumbled from a nearby rooftop into the water, splashing a wide spray. Jiang Mingyu stared—it was Yu Gaoyang himself! Tattered remnants of his official robes still clung to his body, confirming his identity. Jiang Mingyu sneered, ordering men to retrieve the corpse for verification. He then saw piles of dead civilians outside the Inspector's mansion—Yu Gaoyang had slaughtered them to prevent escape from the flood.

Jiang Mingyu's eyes hardened. He thought: "Examine this madman's death closely. His gruesome end shall serve as the perfect example for any enemy who dares stand against me." He studied Yu Gaoyang's mangled, twisted face—it seemed to confirm the cruel words in his heart. Jiang Mingyu silently nodded: this corpse was perfect—truly a gift from heaven.

Jiang Mingyu gestured for his men to carefully lift Yu Gaoyang's body and display it before the generals. Standing high above them, his voice solemn and stirring: "Look! This is Yu Gaoyang—the cruel tyrant who once swaggered and slaughtered civilians at will! Now he lies buried in mud, never again to harm the living."

The generals stared at the corpse, their eyes filled with hatred and contempt. Yu Gaoyang had once been their greatest threat—now he was a ghost drowned in blood.

"Elder brother, this isn't a joke—it's definitely Yu Gaoyang!" one general said skeptically.

Jiang Mingyu nodded: "Correct. This is him. We must let all see it. Let his death spread far and wide—let those who still dare oppose us know the fate awaiting them."

His gaze returned to the city—broken houses, floating corpses, Yu Gaoyang sinking in mud—forming a vivid, brutal tableau. This was victory through vengeance, and the end of retribution.

Jiang Mingyu signaled Tukesiluo: "Cast this corpse into the water. Let it sleep forever with this silent city."

Tukesiluo obeyed. A soldier dragged Yu Gaoyang's body to the rampart and hurled it into the flooded city. Water splashed, then stilled—as if marking the end of this war.

"Elder brother, what now?" Tukesiluo asked.

Jiang Mingyu drew a deep breath, his eyes gleaming with resolve: "Our mission is not done. Quyang has fallen, but our target is Liaowang City. We press forward—let the whole world know Liaowang City will crumble beneath our feet!"

The army reformed. Jiang Mingyu, expression satisfied yet resolute, led his generals onward once more. They waded through murky water, crossing Quyang's ruins, marching toward a distant goal.

Amid the echoes of Quyang City, lingering sobs and cries faded with the wind, swallowed by the damp earth. The city—once prosperous Quyang—now lay silent, a wordless watery tomb.

The wind carried Jiang Mingyu's voice far away: "Our victory is not merely conquest—it is vengeance for the innocent souls who perished."