PREVIEW
... Shui Pass, a rare white horse walked slowly. On its back were a beautiful pair: Su Bei and Mo Li.
Along the way, refugees dragging young and old could be seen everywhere. Each one was sallow and emaciated, their clothes in tatters. Children cried weakly, while old women, their eyes dry from weeping, stumbled along. Their faces were numb, like walking corpses.
Mounds of earth without tombstones lined the roadside, marking where victims of starvation had been hastily buried by thei ...
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