The Distant Metropolis
Chapter One Lan Gao had thirty-two years of age and a bank book with a frozen account, a fact he knew with the same cold precision he applied to counting the crates of bottles in the logging camp at eighty-four of Gallows Corner. It was 1914, and the midsummer rain fell on the Canton delta with a chill that felt like March, soaking into the damp, gas-lit basement of the mill where he worked as...
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