16.02.2026, 11:30
Desheng stayed on the bench, its chill seeping through his clothes, clutching in his hand this small, cold key to yet another locked door. He understood: his friend hadn’t just left. He had fled. Fled from a country where the past turned out to be heavier than the future. And now he, Desheng, remained the sole keeper of all these stories, all these ghosts. He remained alone on this path. Completely alone
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