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The cheeky spots of light ran down slightly from the bright tiles of Taiji Palace. They slipped through the heavy wooden doors of the back palace, ran into Hanguang Palace, wormed into Shufang Palace, made a few loops around the scarred tree, and, in the end, ducked into the long empty Guangxin Palace. The palace was still caught in the slightly dry autumn wind and endlessly emanating a faint sense of coldness. The white curtains had long become shreds of silk. There were plums ...

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