The Golden Quest
Act I The terraced slopes of the basin held their breath under the inversion, a physical weight of smoke that trapped the dust and the debt in the same gray lid. Jian Song stood at the head of the line at the ferry, his boots slick with the oily residue of the overnight stock, watching the water churn against the pilings. He was forty-five, his hands still stained with the dark pigment of the...
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