PREVIEW
... ly 23rd, Huanjing Time, 9 o’clock in the morning, aboard the ghost train, in Carriage No. 7.
In the last compartment of the carriage, Ke Mingye sprawled languidly, leaning against the window frame.
Outside the window, it was sometimes daytime, sometimes deep night; sunlight and moonlight alternated, casting a shadow over his indifferent cheeks through the window pane.
Suddenly, his nose twitched. The cramped compartment was filled with the scent of cedarwood; the seat ben ...
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