The Wistful Mountain
The delta markets of the sixteenth century hummed with the low, grinding friction of commerce, where barges scraped against mud and the air tasted of wet clay and copper. Văn Hung stood on the edge of the floating quay, his boots sinking into the silt that clung to his ankles like wet wool, watching the shadow of the new observatory stretch long and thin across the water. He was a border guard,...
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