[Shovel Port Dock]
Monkey sat listlessly on a wooden stump used for scaling fish, occasionally turning his head as if he could peer through the houses and streets to see the battle outside the town.
He perked up his ears, listening for any noises. As soon as the sound of cannon fire rang out, he jumped up like someone who'd stubbed their toe.
"It's started!" Monkey whined anxiously, "It's started!"
"They're firing cannons—what's it to you?" Lu Xirong angrily yanked Monkey back to his seat. "Sit down!"
Monkey and Lu Xirong were hiding together in a straw shelter at the dock. Normally, after fishermen sold their catch, the leftover small fish would be brought here for salting and drying.
The gaps between the wooden planks under the shelter were already soaked with a dark, grimy residue—a mixture of fish blood, rotting mud, and guts.
