Seagulls flew past the dawn.
The shimmering waves were coated with golden fragments under the morning glow.
The young Augustus yawned and sat down on the swaying deck in the sea breeze.
He was hungry.
Luckily, the work was done well.
He should be able to eat his fill today.
Augustus, bored, absentmindedly touched his ribs, counting them one by one for fun.
Someone emerged from the cabin, placed a clay pot in front of the youth, and said:
"Eat, fisher boy."
Augustus opened the clay pot.
Inside was shrimp paste and white rice.
The rice was still steaming hot.
The young Augustus swallowed, immediately grabbed some chopsticks, and went straight for the shrimp paste.
He cherished every lick of the shrimp paste, quickly shoveling down a few mouthfuls of rice.
——This was the highest enjoyment in the mortal world.
Having white rice was already quite a treat, let alone shrimp paste that you only got to eat during the New Year.
"Uncle Cheng, why is today's meal so good?"
