CHING-LIN, waving a long sorghum stalk, was driving ducks to the river. He was barefoot and stripped to the waist. From behind a hill to the east the early morning sun threw its golden light over the...
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CHING-LIN, waving a long sorghum stalk, was driving ducks to the river. He was barefoot and stripped to the waist. From behind a hill to the east the early morning sun threw its golden light over the...