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... past few days, painting the sky and ground white as the new year rounded the corner.

In the Buddhist sanctum, a maid hurried in holding a red box. She stomped her feet and shook off the snow on her hood as she entered and shouted, “Shizi Fei, this slave brings you hot soup.”

Gao Ran sat by a low-lying table in a side room holding a hand stove, wrapped in a thick squirrel fur cloak. Despite this, the maid next to her continued stirring the smouldering coal in the brazier non-stop, ...

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