The Pale Path
Act I Did the dead really watch from the high altar, or was it just the way the light hit the dust? Văn Huong, twenty-four, stood in the sealed ancestral hall, the air heavy with old varnish and fear. She wanted to marry the merchant’s son, a simple exchange of her name for the debt that strangled her family, but what stood against him was her own mirror-image obsession with her late father’s...
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