Li Wei saw it first. He was standing on the old stone bridge at dawn, watching the river struggle through winter ice, when the air shimmered with heat. The sky rippled, and from the fire-light emerged a horse made of living embers. Its mane flowed like molten silk, its hooves never touched the ground, and its eyes burned with a knowing that made Li Wei’s heart race. « So it’s true … » he whispered. Continue reading …
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