The Gao Family Village Emergency Rescue Team assembled at Qichuan Ferry, ready to set out at a moment's notice.
At the core of the team was the militia—naturally led by Bai Yuan.
The rain was still pouring down relentlessly. Bai Yuan held an oil-paper umbrella, but it was little more than a formality. Half of his white robe was already soaked through. The umbrella was practically useless, yet he stubbornly refused to don a straw rain cape, insisting on wearing his pristine white robes as usual.
It was… very Bai Yuan of him.
Strangely enough, no one laughed.
Standing atop the fortress wall at Qichuan Ferry, Bai Yuan raised his voice and declared:
"Dao Xuan Tianzun has spoken. The Yellow River has burst its banks at Mengjin. Countless commoners have suffered calamity—many are trapped on hills by the floodwaters. They have no food, no shelter. They are starving, soaked by rain, and surrounded by death."
"We must go and rescue them!"
The militia roared in unison, their voices shaking the rain-soaked air.
"We must save them!"
Bai Yuan's gaze swept across them.
"A true gentleman places righteousness above all else! If I, Bai Yuan, die in the Yellow River on this mission, I will have no regrets whatsoever. Do you share this resolve?"
The reply came as one thunderous shout:
"We are soldiers of the common people! When the people suffer, we must be the first to step forward!"
Bai Yuan laughed loudly.
"Excellent! That's the spirit!"
"Depart!"
With solemn expressions, everyone began boarding the boats.
The rain showed no sign of stopping. Fierce river winds lashed across the ferry, and the Yellow River surged violently, its currents swift and treacherous.
Ordinary ancient ships—whether sailboats or oar-powered vessels—would never dare venture onto the Yellow River under such conditions. Doing so would be courting death. One misstep, and they would become fish feed within moments.
But Gao Family Village's electric boats were different.
These electric cargo boats had no sails. Their hulls were low and flat, lacking any tall superstructures, minimizing wind resistance. Their decks were simple and practical—built for stability rather than show.
More importantly, they were driven by motors.
The power produced by these motors far surpassed what human oars could achieve. Even against the Yellow River's fierce current, they could barely—but reliably—hold their course.
It was dangerous.
But not impossible.
They had a chance.
Bai Yuan stood at the bow of the lead rescue boat, his posture straight and dignified. Wind howled. Rain lashed against him. Yet he remained unmoved, pointing downstream as he shouted:
"Depart!"
His family retainer leaned in close and whispered urgently, "Master, please don't stand at the bow striking poses in this weather. Go inside the cabin. If you shout from here, the helmsman won't even hear you."
Bai Yuan frowned. "If I go inside, I won't look nearly as dashing. What kind of gentleman fears mere wind and rain?"
The retainer whispered back desperately, "A gentleman does not stand beneath a collapsing wall, Master. Entering the cabin won't tarnish your dignity."
Bai Yuan paused.
"Oh?"
"…You have a point."
"Very well. I'll go in."
The retainer finally let out a long breath of relief. He had truly feared his master might be swept into the river.
This generation's masters were… exhausting.
Several boats soon departed downstream.
Mengjin.
The rain had finally stopped. The wind softened.
The Yellow River gradually calmed—but the damage had already been done.
More than half of Mengjin had transformed into a vast yellow sea.
The floodwaters showed no sign of receding anytime soon.
On a nearby high slope, Jiang Cheng led his subordinates down toward the water's edge. He pulled out a long pole and carefully probed beneath the surface.
A moment later, he withdrew it.
His face darkened.
It hadn't touched bottom.
"The water is still extremely deep," he said gravely.
The common folk gathered atop the slope turned pale.
Just then, someone shouted, "Boats! Boats are coming!"
A ripple of excitement spread instantly.
In the distance, a small fleet appeared—more than a dozen wooden boats, each carrying five or six people.
The crowd rejoiced.
"There are boats!"
"We still have valuables—if we pay them, they'll take us to safety!"
Even Jiang Cheng felt a momentary sense of relief.
But as he studied the boats more closely, his expression changed sharply.
"…No."
His voice dropped.
"Those are river bandits."
The words sent a chill through the crowd.
They watched as the boats reached a distant isolated hill, surrounded by floodwaters, and stopped. The people aboard drew knives—not to rescue, but to threaten.
They shouted and forced the stranded villagers to hand over everything they had.
Anyone who resisted even slightly was stabbed and thrown straight into the water.
Natural disaster had already struck them.
Now came human disaster.
The villagers on that island could only surrender their belongings, crying silently as the bandits laughed uproariously.
Then the boats turned—and headed toward the next island.
Jiang Cheng roared, "Everyone! Find weapons!"
This high slope was the largest nearby, its summit dotted with trees. The common folk rushed to break off branches. Some were too thick to snap alone, so several men jumped up together, hanging from the limbs until they cracked free.
Before long, every able-bodied man held a sturdy wooden stick.
Jiang Cheng's ten subordinates—all merchants—drew the sabers they carried at their waists. Once unsheathed, they looked far more reliable than moments before.
Instinctively, the villagers gathered behind Jiang Cheng and his men.
Soon, the bandit boats reached the base of the high slope.
The bandit leader stood at the bow, pointing his saber upward and laughing loudly.
"Well, well! Quite a crowd up there—several hundred of you, eh? Hand over your valuables, and your grandpa here might spare your lives!"
Jiang Cheng spat. "Robbing innocent people in the midst of a disaster—are you even human?"
The bandit leader glanced sideways at him. "Oh? So you're the leader?"
"What if I am?" Jiang Cheng shot back.
The bandit leader scanned the sabers, then the hundreds of villagers gripping sticks. A sneer tugged at his lips.
"Putting on a brave show? You're courting death."
Jiang Cheng snorted. "You've got a dozen boats and maybe fifty or sixty men. If you've got the guts, come up and try."
The bandit leader burst into laughter, pretending indifference—but his eyes flickered with calculation.
Fewer than sixty men… several hundred on that slope… ten with sabers, the rest with sticks.
Even if we win, the losses would be ugly.
He made his decision.
Pointing at Jiang Cheng, he sneered. "Listen carefully, brat. I won't attack you today."
"I'll let you starve for three or five days first."
"Then I'll come back."
"Let's see if you can still lift a saber by then."
Jiang Cheng said nothing.
"Go!"
The bandit boats turned and left.
Not long after, distant screams echoed across the floodwaters. On another island, an entire family was slaughtered. Only a young girl was spared—dragged onto a bandit boat.
In broad daylight, she was violated openly.
Those watching clenched their fists, nails digging into their palms, helpless with rage.
Jiang Cheng's teeth ground together.
But the bandit's words echoed in his mind.
They were trapped.
There was no food here. In a few days, their meager rations would be gone. Starvation would sap their strength until even holding a saber became impossible.
What then?
Lowering his head, Jiang Cheng clutched the cotton-thread amulet at his chest.
"Dao Xuan Tianzun… protect us."
He could only pray silently.