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... ox cart passed through the quiet village and stopped in front of a small bridge. A couple in their mid-twenties and an eighty-nine-year-old boy picked up the baggage and got out of the cart.
The man paid the fare and asked the driver again: "Is that the right yard after crossing the bridge?"
The driver came from Xiahe Village, a place he often came to. He took the fare with a smile and nodded, "Yes, yes, that is Mr. Qin, the steward."
The coachman was curious and asked one ...
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