The Distant Garden
Act I Who is the man who tunes the silence in the longtang? Hong Gao stood before the auction house, his fingers trembling as he held the collection notice, certified, its paper brittle as dried reed. The smell of damp cardboard and old dust hit him before he saw the room, a suffocating mix of decay and desperate commerce. He was thirty years old, a freelance piano tuner, and his student debt...
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