The Distant Ghost
Chapter One Could a man keep his name if the wind took his memory? Guomin Zhou stood in the orchard rows, what he wanted of a cleared charge burning in his gut, while the mist choked the valley and the mill siren tested the noon hour with a shriek that vibrated in his teeth. He was thirty-four, a border patrol officer whose pension was frozen, his honor stripped by the Central Bureau’s rigid...
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