The Wistful Throne
I Wen Gao had been a night security guard for the municipal museum for eleven years before his pension was frozen, a bureaucratic error that had turned his life into a ledger of unpaid debts and damp walls. He stood now in the center of his rented flat in the Canton delta, the air heavy with mildew that had seeped into the plaster, holding a taxi medallion that was worth nothing but felt heavy...
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