The furrow between my brows doesn’t ease at the Heavenly Demon’s words. Saaaah. Water from the brook runs gently into the pond before us, and the sunset sky wears the same hues as last time. Chirp. Chirp-chirp. Birdsong—natural yet artificial—spreads in my ears. After a long silence, I finally force out words. “…You said younger sister.” Yarang—or rather, Shingeom—is the...
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