As the morning sun rose over West Harbor on World 21, the great stone plaza outside the Dry-Well Grain & Exchange Market was already packed with over a hundred thousand early-morning shoppers.
Housewives carrying woven baskets, iron-smelters coming off the night shift, and traveling merchants from all across World 21 lined up in neat rows in front of Old Guo’s steaming food stalls and Hong Ling’s twenty-five exchange windows. The warm, comforting smell of freshly boiled Spirit-Rice porridge, roasted Meat-Potatoes, and spiced mutton buns floated through the cool morning air.
Behind Main Exchange Counter #1, Hong Ling sat on a tall wooden stool, happily polishing her two heavy black-iron kitchen cleavers with a silk cloth while Abacus Su arranged stacks of crisp, real Grain-Notes inside open brass trays.
Up on the second-floor balcony of the market hall, Pei Xuan leaned against the wooden railing with a bowl of sweet soy milk in hand, watching the main street entrance with an amused smile. Beside him stood Old Wei and General Tie Zhan, both grinning as they waited for the show to start.
“Here they come, Young Master!” Old Wei chuckled, pointing his chin toward the south archway of the market plaza.
