Morning.
Qin, Qi, Chu, Yan, Han, Zhao, Wei.
The entrances of countless bookstores were packed with people.
Some of the larger bookstores were even more exaggerated.
Take the New Cathay Bookstore in Qin Continent, for example—there was already a line of over a hundred people forming at the entrance.
A massive crowd of customers completely clogged the doorway.
The queued-up crowd was chattering noisily:
"Hey!"
"Stop shoving!"
"What, trying to cop a feel?!"
"Anyone coming later, just get to the back of the line, damn it!"
"Hey, you up front! Cut in line one more time, and see if the crowd doesn't lose it. I've been here since seven!"
"Seven o'clock, so what?"
"I came at six."
"Why do you bother coming so early?"
"You think I want to? The thing is, if you're late buying this old rascal's books, they're bound to sell out. Then you'll have to wait days for restocking. It's not like this hasn't happened before."
"Damn it."
"There are way too many people!"
