He flailed desperately with both hands and luckily caught a rope, but the ship immediately began listing even more sharply. Jiang Zhengyang screamed in terror as the deck tipped almost perpendicular to the lake. If he kept clinging to the rope, the ship might overturn and trap him beneath it. He abruptly let go and plunged screaming into the icy water. His heavy armor dragged him down. Jiang Zhengyang tore it off with all his strength, yet he continued sinking. His hands thrashed helplessly until, by sheer luck, he caught a log. Gasping for breath, he hauled himself onto it and watched the ship he had just been aboard slowly sink into the lake. All around him, soldiers screamed for help.
A small boat passed nearby. A man stood aboard it with a saber in hand: Ruan Jingwu, the second chief of Blackwater Stronghold.
As though he had spotted his savior, Jiang Zhengyang shouted himself hoarse. "Chief Ruan, save me..."
Ruan Jingwu heard Jiang Zhengyang's voice, but did not turn around. One of his men said, "Second chief, it's Lord Jiang!"
Ruan Jingwu gritted his teeth. "Leave him alone. Let that stupid pig fend for himself!" If Jiang Zhengyang had not insisted on having every ship leave together, they would never have ended up in this predicament. Jiang Zhengyang looked shrewd, but was actually a fool. Ruan Jingwu was convinced that this well-trained fleet had followed Jiang Zhengyang's convoy here and lain in ambush, waiting for the chance to catch them all in one net.
Ruan Jingwu gazed at the burning lake. He felt no regret over the hundred thousand shi of grain Jiang Zhengyang had brought; what truly tore at his heart was the loss of these five hundred ships. Blackwater Stronghold had sent almost its entire fleet to