Everyone immediately started getting dressed up.
Zhang Xiao watched them put on tall green hats and stick Irish flags on both cheeks.
They pinned rose-shaped badges to their chests, then set off in high spirits with all sorts of things in their hands.
It really was curious. Wizards kept themselves thoroughly separate from Muggles, yet, strangely enough, they still identified with their nationalities and retained a certain sense of national pride.
They recognized their countries' flags and anthems, too, and could even sing the latter. Who knew where they had learned them?
Mr. Weasley led the way, striding into the woods along a lantern-lit path.
Zhang Xiao took in this entirely unfamiliar scene with fascination.
Concerts in his previous life might have been on this scale, but he had never attended one.
Dense crowds surrounded them. Amid the lanterns' multicolored light, he heard hundreds upon thousands of people moving around him, shouting, laughing, and breaking into snatches of song.
That feverish excitement was infectious. Beside him, Harry, Ron, and even Malfoy were bouncing around and singing.
Hermione was grinning from ear to ear, and even Zhang Xiao found the corners of his mouth lifting as his mood brightened.
They walked through the woods for twenty minutes, talking loudly, laughing, and joking, before finally emerging on the other side.
"Wow!" The stream of people stopped, gazing up at the enormous golden wall before them. It was incredibly tall-at least a hundred meters.
Zhang Xiao smacked his lips, equally awestruck by the stadium and its enormous shadow. From where he stood, he could actually see only part of the wall.
Even after seeing plenty of "wonders" and experiencing China's astonishing infrastructure, he still found himself enthralled by the power of magic.
"It seats a hundred thousand spectators!" Mr. Weasley clasped his hands