The Distant Machine
Chapter One "Did you see the crack in the ledger?" Feng Liang asked, though the boy was already gone, his boots scuffing against the packed earth of the hutong entrance. The year was 1912, and the smoke from the coal stoves hung low, a physical weight against the shutters of the house at forty-two of NineElm Crossing. Feng Liang, forty-five years old and stiff with the rigidity of a man who had...
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