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... d upward, curling in delicate tendrils that caught the morning light. I poured carefully, the amber liquid filling the porcelain cups with a shaky flow, as a result of my unsteady hands. Across from me, Feng Wu tapped a single finger against the table, a small gesture of appreciation as he cradled his cup with both hands.

But the serenity didn’t last.

“The Black Tortoise Tribulation?” Feng Wu’s voice cut through the quiet, laced with disbelief. His brow furrowed as he leaned forw ...

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