At the third watch, the salty river breeze of the Qiantang River estuary carried damp mist, snapping the military port's banners sharply against the wind.
Shen Xitang stood on the stone steps of the pier, the silver needle at her fingertips glinting with a cold light in the moonlight. The needle tip trembled slightly, pointing toward the heart of the river—where the Black Tide was surging in silence.
Xiao Heng wore armor and a sword, backed by thirty elite naval soldiers assigned by Zheng Dayou. Every man had a waterskin tied to his waist, filled to the brim with niter powder.
Chapter 87