The Pale Bonsai
The ledger entry reads: Wu Lan, Warden, Class IV. Debt: One tree. Status: Rotting. The ink is still wet on the paper. I hold the quip, my hand trembling not from cold, but from the vibration in my own chest. It is a low, dull thud, like a stone dropped into a deep well. Outside the window of the counting house, the mulberry trees stand stripped to the bone, their stumps jagged against the grey...
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