The Wistful Saga
Act I Hong Song, forty-two, kept the grain ledgers for the provincial bureau, a job that smelled of damp paper and cold coffee, and he needed to sell the family plot by winter. The debt was his father’s, a legacy of bad harvests and bad luck, and the state had already taken half the rice. He stood in the hallway of the longtang, surrounded by coats and bicycles, listening to the footsteps of...
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