The Golden Farce
Chapter One "You missed the mark by three degrees, Hua Zheng," Chen said, his voice flat as a ruler laid across a sheet of glass. "Three degrees. That is not a mistake; it is a verdict." Hua Zheng stood in the grey light of the longtang, holding the brass theodolite. The instrument was heavy, a weight he had carried for twenty years, but today it felt like a stone wrapped in silk. The lens was...
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