Late at night, a sudden rush of footsteps echoed outside the house.
The Monkey King's heart leapt into his throat.
"Is it time to act?" He quietly gripped the wooden stick in his hand—the only weapon he had.
The footsteps finally stopped in front of the door.
Immediately, the Monkey King darted to the side of the door, raised his stick, and prepared to cripple the leg of whoever dared to kick it open.
But the anticipated attack never came.
"Knock, knock, knock..."
A rapid knocking sounded at the door.
"Sneak attack, yet they knock? Are these people gentlemen, or just stupid?" the Monkey King wondered.
"It's me! Open up!" It was Belle's voice.