The Faded Bouquet
Fang Yang stood before the High Judge, the weight of the fractured seal in his hands a physical ache, forty-seven of the Amber Stair echoing in the hollow of his chest as he waited for the verdict that would unmake him. The mist in the court of the Jade Emperor was not water, but a dense, grey suspension of old debts, thick enough to choke the breath and blur the faces of the scribes who lined...
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