The Pale Tower

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2026-08-24 09:41:35 -

The Pale Tower

The tax boat was due in three days, and the tin on the shelf held only forty cents and a broken key. "Put the lid on tight," Master Liu said, his voice dry as the sawdust that coated the floor of the workshop. "The humidity is rising. Wood swells when it rains." Dong Zhang nodded, his hands steady as he sanded the edge of a pine lid. He was thirty years old, a coffin maker for the parish, and...

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