The Golden Visit
Chapter One The gaslight of the boarding house flickered, casting long, jittery shadows across the empty parlour where the air smelled of damp plaster and old dust. Văn Ngoc stood in the center of the room, his fingers tracing the rim of a golden gong, its surface cold and smooth under his rough, work-worn hands. He was thirty-two, a man who had once been called a shaman by the elders of his...
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