Bind, bind, bind.
The sound of cloud drums and gongs rang together.
The standard hard soles of boots collided, scraped, and compressed against the deck, creating a chaotic clamor.
All the soldiers, officials, and merchants hurriedly threw on their coats, ran up to the deck, and buzzed around like headless flies, asking what had happened and why the alarm had been sounded.
"Liang Qu has been assassinated?"
Upon learning the cause, a wave of shock and uproar arose, filled with concern, fear, and panic, a jumble of emotions spilling forth.
"Who? Who did it?"
"Is Lord Liang okay? I want to see him! I want to see the lord!"
"Light the lamps, light the lamps! Light all the torches!"
"Was it the Ghost Mother Cult? Or was it the Northern Court or Southern Frontier who is jealous of Dashun's talent?"
"Is the assassin dead?"
