The next day, Fang Qiu continued to play in the Western Wetland and even took many photos. In fact, he had been secretly observing the whole Western Wetland all day. It was not until the evening, when he was sure that the turtle was no longer restless, no longer appeared, and no longer had the impulse to go ashore, that he was relieved. At seven o'clock in the evening, after all the tourists and staff had left the Western Wetland, a group of dark shadows came from all directions. At the center of the wetland, there were people standing on a gazebo for visitors to rest, on the tops of boats in the river, on the surrounding islands, and on the road ridges, though it was still an hour before the fight began. ... The audience had to come ahead of time to get their seats and get ready for the fight because the competition had attracted too much attention. Half an hour later came the sound of a flute, acco
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