The Wistful Mirror
Act I Qing Yang looked back at the dust that had settled on his boots, remembering the weight of the cold that had frozen the well in the longtang before the Clearances. He had wanted the ledger. It was a simple thing, a book of names, yet the military tribunal had classified him a traitor for its absence. What stood against him was not just the tribunal, but the air itself, which felt thin and...
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