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... l. Past whatever lay beyond eternal.

The titles meant little to him. They had never sat right in his head.

"Master, allow me to pour you a cup."

He cradled the clay teapot in both hands and tipped a thin line of steaming amber into his master’s empty cup.

Qi threaded from his fingers into the stream. It held the liquid steady against the mad mountain wind that clawed at the broken peak where they stood.

Not a drop spilled on the scarred stone between them. ...

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