The Pale Banner
"Take the sash from your father, boy. It is contraband." Guomin Liu did not move. He stood at the village gate, the damp cold of the Jiangnan water town seeping into his knees, while the magistrate’s boots crunched on the gravel. The silk sash, torn and faded, was tucked into Guomin’s sash, a strip of his father’s old banner. The magistrate, a man named Zhou with a face like a dried plum,...
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