Old Quan set up a tent not far from the River Viewing Terrace. It served no other purpose than to shield Nier from the cool night wind. The front was left open, so it did not obstruct their view of the matches.
Of course, though the mountain looked close, with his ordinary mortal body, he could push the wheelbarrow until it fell apart and still not make it up to the high terrace.
The spirit-mirror sky-curtain was split into two battles. A corner in the upper left showed "Zhuge Half-Day" and "that Jing Kingdom guy"—the people of Jing Kingdom were in a poor position in public opinion, likely because of the way they carried themselves as though they were above everyone else.
But Old Quan did not mind. He had always been beneath others.
The main screen was reserved for "Compass Ming" and "Peachwood Xu." Their fight was a riot of color, Daoist Arts blasting everywhere—yet Old Quan still thought the lightning and starlight in the upper-left corner looked better.
He was a little tired. For some reason, ever since arriving at the River Viewing Terrace, his spirits had been poor.
He was listless and drowsy all day. At night, he was exhausted and sleepy, yet could not close his eyes. His heart felt stuffy, like the weather before a storm that had yet to arrive—the Aquatic Race guards had said that the River-Subduing True Lord had issued an order: there would be no rain at the River Viewing Terrace in the seventh month.
Old Quan had no particular divide between the Human Race and the Aquatic Race. In his eyes, the people of this world came in only three kinds—those sitting in chairs, those walking the roads, and those kneeling on the ground.
He was one of those kneeling