PREVIEW
... at Calamity, I Was the Buddha
Pure Land, Border.
In the Gobi of May, there was heavy rain in the morning, and as the dusk cleared, a ground fog arose.
Wisp after wisp of ground fog, while the pure white clouds above constantly drifted higher.
Before their eyes, the desert was a golden expanse, with countless sand and stone ripples rising like petrified waves, stretching all the way to the golden horizon in the distance.
It was as though the entire gravel w ...
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