Chapter 31 The Final Meeting
When the First Emperor received the urgent letter from Meng Yi, he was playing with his talking parrot.
The parrot was endearing and very intelligent. It repeated what Meng Yi taught it time and time again, becoming a source of amusement for the First Emperor during his busy schedule. Now that it was by the First Emperor's side, and with clever palace servants specifically teaching and caring for it, it learned to say even more and more words.
During Meng Yi's absence, Zhao Gao further flattered the First Emperor by offering him alchemists and probing his thoughts, which greatly pleased the emperor.
He was reinstated to his original position not long after.
Of course, he was by no means a simple flatterer; his own abilities were also very important. He was an excellent calligrapher and participated in the cultural unification process of transforming the Great Seal script into the Small Seal script; he was proficient in law and participated in the revision of legal documents; as the Chief of the Imperial Carriage Office, he embodied the majesty of the First Emperor's ceremonial procession.
Most importantly, he was capable of doing the treacherous deeds that even upright officials like Meng Yi could not. When the First Emperor was obsessed with immortality, he dared to recruit alchemists for him.
No one dislikes being flattered in a subtle and considerate way, and the First Emperor was no exception.
However, he was confident that he could suppress the thoughts of his subjects, and he didn't care what they wanted. He could afford to give them what they wanted, as long as they were of service to the country and useful to him.
The newly reinstated Chief of the Imperial Carriage Office removed the seal and slowly unfurled the urgent letter sent by Meng Yi.
Logically, such an urgent document, delivered over 800 li, should first be sent to Chancellor Li Si for verification to confirm its authenticity before being forwarded to the Imperial Physician, then registered by Zhao Gao, the Chief of the Imperial Carriage Office, and finally delivered to the First Emperor.
Now, we'll handle this as a special case.
"May the sun and moon live forever, and may the Great Qin Dynasty prosper forever!" The parrot changed its verses, which pleased the First Emperor greatly.
The First Emperor rewarded the parrot with a dish of specially made, expensive birdseed, then glanced indifferently at Zhao Gao: "What did Meng Yi say in his letter?"
Zhao Gao read two lines as instructed, and was immediately shocked. He quickly looked at the end, closed the book, and respectfully handed it to the First Emperor: "Your subject dares not presume to act on your own; please make the decision, Your Majesty."
The First Emperor stopped reviewing the memorials, quickly read through them, his mind racing with a myriad of emotions. He sensed the shock in Meng Yi's letter, in which Meng Yi also mentioned that even if this woman was not the extraordinary person the First Emperor was seeking, she would certainly bring about new changes to the Qin Dynasty.
The First Emperor trusted Meng Yi's judgment.
Even from the few words, the First Emperor could feel the overwhelming excitement.
The First Emperor couldn't help but feel a little smug; the black bird still loved him. It flew southwest, but not far, only reaching Cangwu County.
What immortal mountains and celestial peaks that are elusive and unseen? They're all just stories told by sorcerers to deceive him.
Thinking of the shadow of death in his dream, he quickly made arrangements: "The entire army is ready to depart immediately for Xiangshan."
"Your Majesty, wasn't it just decided a few days ago that we would be going to Hengshan?" Zhao Gao asked respectfully.
Mount Heng was the place where the ancient emperor Shun stayed during his southern tour. To worship at Mount Heng was to declare that one had inherited Shun's legitimate rule. Wasn't that more important than going to Mount Xiang?
Previously, Qin Shi Huang had already performed the Fengshan sacrifices to Heaven at Mount Yi, Mount Tai, and Mount Langya. Mount Heng is the final link in the system of the Four Sacred Mountains of China. Mount Xiang, merely a corner of the Chu region's licentious worship, how could it be compared to the Four Sacred Mountains?
Zhao Gao was horrified; Meng Yi's influence over the First Emperor was far too great. Meng Yi had clashed with him before, and it was hard to guarantee that he wouldn't target him again in the future.
But the First Emperor was a strong-willed man, and once he made a decision, nothing could change it: "It's alright, go and tell the Prime Minister, he knows what to do."
Zhao Gao was unwilling, but he had no choice but to do as he was told.
In the days that followed, the First Emperor received gifts from Meng Yi almost every few days.
The first one was several bolts of fabric with impeccable color and pattern, with a black bird embroidered in a small corner.
The First Emperor realized that it was Xiangjun Bu.
He wondered if the Black Bird also liked to promote its reputation among humans. He pondered this and summoned the Minister of Agriculture.
However, the question concerned government affairs.
The Minister of Agriculture licked his lips, suppressing his excitement: "According to my calculations, the official workshops in Xianyang produce cloth that is 2 feet 2 inches wide, with an annual output of 600,000 bolts, each bolt consuming 12 catties of hemp. If we use the looms made from this Xiangjun cloth, we can save 3 catties of hemp. If, as you say, the weaving speed is three to five times faster than the official workshops, Your Majesty, the annual production of hemp cloth could reach 1.5 million bolts!"
The First Emperor bent his index finger and tapped it on the table. The terrifying number was also swirling in his mind: "How much tax revenue can be collected from the national treasury at that time?"
The Minister of Agriculture's voice trembled, and he couldn't help but smile: "The annual increase in cloth tax is 240,000 bolts, equivalent to 24 million coins..."
This is a number that makes people happy just by talking about it.
With this money, you can do so many things.
The second time, there were two swords.
The First Emperor had a very good memory, and one of the swords was a bronze sword he bestowed upon Meng Yi. That bronze sword was made from high-quality ore with few impurities. Originally, the blade was smooth and flat, and the pommel was inlaid with turquoise by craftsmen, making it very beautiful.
This sword is by no means a ceremonial weapon; it is the crystallization of the wisdom of the artisans of the Imperial Household Department. Its sharpness is enough to break through the iron armor of the Xiongnu, and its magnificence is enough to be passed down in the imperial court.
Now, nicks and nicks have appeared on its otherwise perfect blade.
The First Emperor didn't even glance at the bronze sword; his burning gaze fell upon the steel sword gleaming coldly beside him. On its bluish-gray background, countless forging patterns surged like flowing clouds, and the blade flashed with a chilling light.
The First Emperor personally picked up the long, sharp steel sword from its sheath, feeling its unusual weight and cold, hard texture. His narrow eyes were reflected in the blade, sharp as the sword's edge, carrying within them a thirst for absolute power.
He flicked his finger lightly, and the sword rang out with a long, continuous sound.
Its craftsmanship was naturally inferior to that of bronze swords, but the First Emperor heard the humming sound and sensed the arrival of a new era.
Wang Ben, seated below, couldn't help but speak up: "Your Majesty, may I also take a look at this divine weapon?"
A palace maid presented the sword with both hands.
Wang Ben almost sighed. As a seasoned commander with countless battles under his belt, his understanding of weaponry was ingrained. He quickly deduced in his mind that steel swords could easily cut through enemy weapons and pierce armor, meaning that the Qin army's individual combat capabilities would achieve an overwhelming victory. The Qin army's chances of winning against the Xiongnu in the north and the Baiyue in the south would be greatly increased.
He even wondered if this steel could be used to make lighter, stronger armor to replace bronze and leather armor, and whether it could be quickly equipped for the entire army.
Wang Ben's heart was filled with excitement: "Your Majesty, I wonder how difficult it is to make this sword? With such a ceremonial weapon, what worries are there about the stability of the world? What fear is there of the barbarian cavalry invading the south? If I had such a weapon, I would be eager to go to the battlefield and test its sharpness!"
The First Emperor laughed heartily: "Meng Yi's trip to the southwest has yielded some results. If what Meng Yi said in his letter is accurate, the method of steelmaking should not be difficult."
Li Si was also deeply shocked, but unlike the First Emperor's ecstatic conviction of divine mandate and Wang Ben's excitement at tactical advancement, his first instinct was horror. He keenly realized that this power was too great—powerful enough to overturn the existing balance of power in Qin.
As Prime Minister, his primary concern was controlling iron ore resources. Since Meng Yi dared to present the steel sword, it at least indicated that he could control the "steel-making method" from leaking out. Li Si also spoke up, saying, "Auspicious omens have descended from heaven, protecting our Great Qin. However, Your Majesty, how to use these omens to consolidate your rule and deter internal and external forces is a matter for discussion."
"What Prime Minister Li says is true." The First Emperor stood with his hands behind his back, still in a state of excitement even after reviewing memorials all day. He hadn't taken any elixirs these past few days, yet he could feel the changes in his body—light and full of energy.
He valued the Black Bird more and more.
The third time, the First Emperor received information about treatments for dysentery.
Also included was a letter that appeared to be an apology from the Great Shaman Guanyue, but was actually a request for credit.
Having experienced the impact of Xiangjun Cloth and the steel sword, he felt somewhat calmer.
Realizing his own thoughts, Ying Zheng paused, taken aback. He had truly been blinded by the first two things; the treatment of dysentery was, of course, also of paramount importance.
Especially since he was determined to sweep across the Baiyue region in the south, this was the only way to ensure that the fighting capacity of the Qin soldiers in the south would not decline, and to maintain the labor force and keep the people's hearts at ease.
The First Emperor handed it over to Xia Wuqie.
Xia Wuqie was overjoyed and immediately gathered people to study the matter.
At the same time, the First Emperor approved Meng Yi's request and bestowed upon Guan Yue extremely generous rewards. Considering that Guan Yue was originally a high-ranking shaman who worshipped the Eastern Emperor Taiyi, he even granted Guan Yue the official position of Grand Diviner.
-
It was the height of summer, the sun was scorching the earth, and the air was hot and humid, as if we were in a giant steamer.
The rising steam from the Xiang River, the fragrance of ripe rice, and the moisture from the paddy fields mingled and filled the air. Cicadas chirped incessantly along the edge of the fields, making the heat even more intense.
On the gentle slopes of the mountains and the flatlands of the valleys, the vast rice paddies have shed their greenness and transformed into a boundless golden sea. The heavy ears of rice droop low, the grains plump and full. A hot wind blows, and the rice waves ripple.
The paddy fields are clearly divided into neat squares or strips by a crisscrossing network of rammed earth ridges. These ridges are not only field boundaries and passageways, but also the framework of a meticulously planned irrigation and drainage system.
Originally, the Keluo people did not do these things; it was all under the guidance of the disciples of the Farmer School that they gradually built up the scale they have today.
Meng Yi stood on the edge of the paddy field, watching the people of Guizhou, dressed in sweat-absorbing coarse linen short coats and wrapped in cloth, their skin dark and shiny, harvesting the rice in the ripe fields. They held either bronze sickles or steel sickles forged by Lin Fengzhi in a blast furnace, their movements swift and efficient.
Meng Yi was itching to try it himself.
For no other reason than the steel sickle and ears of rice in their hands.
The rice stalks were constantly guarded in the fields, so Meng Yi couldn't even send some to the First Emperor for him to see. As soon as he approached the fields, the farmers' disciples stared at him like searchlights.
He privately sought help from Lin Fengzhi and Magistrate Feng, but to no avail. These peasant disciples valued these well-grown rice ears more than their own lives. They talked about what experiments and research they would conduct, each one of them speaking in a mystical manner. Unfortunately, Lin Fengzhi treated them with great kindness, frequently exchanging ideas and new methods with them.
He could certainly use force, but there was really no need to antagonize Lin Fengzhi over the sake of rice.
As for the steel sickles, Lin Fengzhi insisted on providing them to the people who were about to begin the harvest, despite opposition from many others. Magistrate Feng and Meng Yi both opposed this measure, arguing that the steel sickles were too lethal and should not be distributed to the common people; what if they were missed or betrayed?
Lin Fengzhi, however, felt that tools are ultimately subordinate to people, so what was wrong with improving efficiency for hard work? As for the management of the sickles, she handed them over to Magistrate Feng.
Magistrate Feng then handed the matter over to Meng Yi. In matters of national importance, it was best to have someone else take the lead; Magistrate Feng dared not try to handle everything himself. Especially considering Meng Yi's indication that the First Emperor would be visiting Qianling County.
Whenever he thinks about this, Magistrate Feng is incredibly grateful to himself for making that bet back then.
The sounds of swishing and swishing as the rice is harvested rise and fall, intertwining with the creaking of the shovels turning over in the distance and the chirping of cicadas nearby, creating a unique symphony of the busy summer farming season.
Speaking of the dragon bone overturning cart, Meng Yi was also greatly surprised. The Guanzhong Plain has always been used to grow millet, and although there are rivers for irrigation, there are inevitably areas that the rivers cannot reach. If such a good material could be used on the Guanzhong Plain, the eight hundred miles of Qin land would only become more abundant.
A loud bang suddenly came from the distant mountains and forests, followed by a series of bangs.
Those around looked in the direction of the sound, but showed no surprise. They simply laughed and said, "The great shaman is preparing for the Xiangjun sacrifice again."
These past few days, the series of banging sounds have become commonplace, but Meng Yi is somewhat concerned about what the colored smoke drifting in the sky after the sounds are.
Lin Fengzhi's new creation was shrouded in mystery, with only Shengkuan and Qi involved. They even went to a remote mountain forest to work on it. Meng Yi was concerned about it but couldn't do anything about it until the results were in.
As the sun sets, people gather the harvested rice and weigh it one by one. Gradually, darkness falls, and someone lights a torch, only to find that the torch is not as bright as the excited look in the eyes of those around them.
They counted in whispers: "...ninety jin...one hundred jin...one hundred and twenty-five jin...one hundred and eighty jin...two hundred jin..."
As they counted down, their voices grew louder and more excited.
"...Two hundred and thirteen catties!" Yong shouted, waving his sickle. "This year, one mu of land can produce two hundred and thirteen catties!"
A local resident whispered in recollection, "My God, last year... last year it seemed to weigh less than 100 jin..."
The excitement ignited everyone's enthusiasm. Although Meng Yi came from a prestigious family, he was not ignorant of basic agricultural knowledge. He deeply understood the importance of a farmer's disciple, and his gaze towards that disciple burned even brighter than a torch.
The people of Keluo rushed forward, picked up the farmer's disciple who was standing on the edge of the field, tossed him into the air, and caught him steadily: "That's wonderful! Thank you, Master Farmer, thank you, Master Farmer!"
No one was unmoved by this scene, and Meng Yi was no exception.
The people on this land live such simple lives, and they are overjoyed with just a good harvest.
Lin Fengzhi arrived late, smelling of gunpowder. She said, "Everyone, the cafeteria has prepared a feast for you. It's very lavish to celebrate this bumper harvest."
The crowd cheered again, and they sandwiched the farmer's disciple in the middle, inviting him to the canteen.
As the crowd dispersed, Qu He and the great shaman Guan Yue walked over hand in hand.
In their youth, they were hailed as the successors of the Chu Kingdom's sorcerers. As they grew up, one moved to the Xiang River to preserve the Qu family bloodline, while the other remained in Shouchun to worship the Eastern Lord.
I never imagined I would have the chance to meet again in this lifetime.
Guan Yue asked, "Is she always like this here?"
Qu He replied, "It's always like that."
There are always countless surprises and joys; what she sought at the Xiangjun Temple has now become a substantial harvest. Every step she takes is part of her plan.
Qu He gazed at Lin Fengzhi's slender figure in the evening breeze. Where are you going? Why not ride the wind and soar upwards?
Lin Fengzhi turned around and smiled, her smile as bright as stars in the evening breeze.
Qu He stepped forward and asked her, "How are the preparations for tomorrow's sacrificial ceremony going?"
“Of course, I’ve memorized all the prayers for the ceremony.” Lin Fengzhi nodded. “I’ll leave the dance part to the two vice priests.”
In the Xiang River basin, this is the most important sacrificial ceremony of the year. It is usually held on the day after the harvest to celebrate the year's bounty and pray for a continued good harvest in the coming year.
Guan Yue's voice was not as hoarse as before, perhaps because she had listened to Lin Fengzhi's advice and was no longer fixated on voice magic: "To have two great witches as your assistants, you, the high priest, are absolutely unique."
She knew that Qu He had lost to Lin Fengzhi, but she still felt that Qu He's abilities were more than just those of a sorcerer.
Speaking of Guan Yue's voice, Lin Fengzhi found it hard to describe the shock she felt when she first heard it. A human being could actually produce such a low-frequency sound, almost approaching infrasound.
No wonder Meng Yi and his soldiers were dizzy from listening.
When Lin Fengzhi first heard her speak, he suggested that she change her way of speaking, otherwise the vocal cord bones in her throat would shift and she would become hoarse sooner or later.
Lin Fengzhi's eyes reflected the Milky Way in the sky as she said, "Let's look forward to what new discoveries we'll have tomorrow."
-
The Xiang River flows gently, and the wind carries the fragrance of rice paddies across the riverbank, permeating the Xiangjun Temple on Xiang Mountain.
Lin Fengzhi gazed at the three statues of deities behind the altar, with Xiangjun in the middle and two Xiang ladies on either side.
She couldn't help but think of the last time she came here, when she had to rack her brains to use gunpowder, pinhole imaging and other means to defeat Qu He.
Now, all you need to do is change into a brocade sacrificial robe with phoenix patterns embroidered by An herself, adorn the lapel with Du Ruo and Lan Zhi, wear a feather crown, hold a jade ornament in your hand, and wait peacefully before the altar.
She no longer needs to prove herself with supernatural abilities.
She no longer performs the dances during the sacrificial rites.
Qu He and Guan Yue also changed into the clothes of the deputy priests. Surrounded by all the tribes, large and small, in the Xiang River basin, when Lin Fengzhi struck the jade instrument, they also stepped on the Yu Step to offer their respect to the gods.
Lin Fengzhi sang Qu Yuan's "Nine Songs" once again: "You do not go, you hesitate, who will stay on the central isle? Beautiful and graceful, you should be cultivated, I ride in a cassia boat. Let the Yuan and Xiang rivers be calm, let the Yangtze River flow peacefully."
The tiger-shaped drum with its phoenix frame emitted a deep, resonant roar, like the heartbeat of the earth. The bone flute wailed, its sound clear and sharp. The clear, melodious tones of the bronze chimes flowed forth, like a celestial wind stirring up layers of clouds. In this sacred atmosphere woven by these melodies, Qu He and Guan Yue performed the ritualistic steps of a shaman, their black robes and red gauze billowing like clouds with each step, their jade pendants chiming softly incessantly.
"When the millet and sorghum are harvested, the granaries are full!"
I humbly beseech the Xiang Lord and the Xiang Lady—
Enjoy this fragrant aroma and savor this fine wine!
May our land be blessed with abundant harvests and prosperity!
Lin Fengzhi's voice echoed in the Xiangjun Temple, and everyone in the temple responded in unison, the clear and melodious singing rippling outwards.
No one noticed that Meng Yi led the county magistrate and a small group of men down the mountain at a rapid pace.
As the sound of gongs and drums gradually subsided, the sacrificial ceremony came to an end.
Lin Fengzhi opened her palm, revealing several carefully selected, plump, golden ears of rice still carrying the scent of morning dew. She offered this year's harvest from the Keluo people to Xiangjun. In her heart, she felt that this bundle of rice was the most precious offering, even more so than the sacrificial animals, herbs, and jade pendants on the altar.
The light outlined her focused profile and slightly trembling eyelashes. The shrine was silent, save for the faint sound of the Xiang River lapping against the shore in the distance.
When she turned around and met the expectant eyes of the crowd, she smiled inwardly.
The last time she performed a sacrifice at the Xiangjun Temple, she caused the descent of Xiangjun and the appearance of thunder. It seems everyone is looking forward to seeing what she will do this time.
She pretended to be nonchalant and walked out of the Xiangjun Temple first. The soft hem of her dress brushed against the threshold, and just as her toes stepped out of the shadows and were bathed in the last rays of the setting sun outside the temple—
Without any warning, a huge, dazzling golden firework exploded in the sky above her head. Like a brilliant star reborn near the ground, it instantly illuminated the darkening sky, bathing the Xiang River, mountains, temples, and her serene face in a flowing golden glow.
Cheers suddenly erupted behind me.
Lin Fengzhi didn't turn around. She saw Qi Hesheng wink at her from ahead. She smiled back. The three of them had spent so much time studying the fireworks, and it hadn't been in vain after all.
She also kept her promise to Seungkwan, allowing him to come into contact with gunpowder.
Bang, bang, bang! Fireworks burst forth one after another, crimson, azure, verdigris... fireworks of different colors bloomed in competition, like the colorful ink splashed by the gods, freely painting on the huge canvas of the sky.
The dazzling light danced and reflected in her clear eyes, like countless shattered diamonds falling into them. The fireworks she had arranged now seemed like a grand and breathtaking prelude to her own destiny.
A magnificent fleet of official ships sailed on the vast Xiang River, their bows cleaving through the shimmering, golden-red waters.
Dressed in black robes and crimson skirts, Qin Shi Huang, Ying Zheng, leaned on the railing, gazing into the distance. His majestic gaze swept across the Chu landscape on both banks, carrying the indifference of a conquestr and a hint of barely perceptible excitement.
As dusk settled, a somber atmosphere enveloped the world.
Suddenly, a dazzling display of fireworks bursting forth from the distant foot of the mountain, above the Xiangjun Ancestral Hall, unexpectedly entered his field of vision.
Ying Zheng's pupils suddenly contracted. He pushed away the soldiers who came forward to protect him and stared intently at the dazzling fireworks in the sky.
What a miracle!
The roar of fireworks, carried across the wide expanse of water, grew deep and resounding, striking the emperor's eardrums. He pressed his lips tightly together, the sleeves of his robe, embroidered with black birds, fluttering in the river breeze. His eyes, sharp as a hawk's, pierced through the twilight and the glow of the fireworks, locking onto the source of the rising fireworks—the direction of the Xiangjun Temple.
The official ship docked, and Ying Zheng strode off with a powerful stride.
On the shore, Meng Yi led his personal guards to kneel and welcome the monarch. He raised the grain of rice in his hand high and presented it to the First Emperor.
Ying Zheng's gaze shifted from the distant fireworks to the sheaf of rice. He extended his well-defined hand and slowly took it. The rice stalk was heavy, the grains plump and round, carrying the slight scent of moisture and earth, yet possessing a strange vitality and purity. The glow of the fireworks danced and flickered on the rice stalk in his hand, as if imbuing it with divinity. His fingertips unconsciously twirled a grain of rice, hard yet full of life.
Just then, Lin Fengzhi descended the winding mountain path from the forest, which was bathed in the afterglow of the fireworks, creating a scene resembling a dream. She had just emerged from a grand spectacle of light and shadow, her steps light and graceful. The gentle glow of the setting sun outlined her magnificent sacrificial robes and feathered crown.
She seemed like a deity who had emerged from the mountains and forests.
Ying Zheng's gaze pierced through the thinning twilight and landed precisely on Lin Fengzhi.
In that instant, his vision seemed to distort strangely. A colossal, ethereal phantom of a black bird, wreathed in bright red flames and composed of light and shadow, appeared without warning against the backdrop of the sky. It let out a silent, soul-stirring cry, and with unimaginable speed, carrying an aura of destiny, it swooped down towards the woman on the mountain path!
The Black Bird! The Black Bird I've searched for in my dreams but could not find!
The phantom of the black bird rapidly magnified in Ying Zheng's pupils, finally striking Lin Fengzhi's body with perfect precision and silence. The light and shadow exploded on her body for a moment, then quickly subsided and disappeared, as if it had never existed.
It's unclear whether the Black Bird was her, or whether the Black Bird chose her.
Ying Zheng blinked sharply, and the illusion vanished. The mountain path was still the same mountain path, and the woman was still the same woman wearing a feathered crown and a sacrificial robe, looking at the group of uninvited guests on the shore with a hint of doubt.
An indescribable burning sensation swept over Ying Zheng, his heart churning. He couldn't help but tightly grasp the grain in his hand, the stalks of rice pressing against his palm, bringing him a moment of clarity.
Was it an illusion? Was it the Black Bird manifesting itself? Or... a sign from Heaven? He unconsciously tightened his grip on the rice stalks, his knuckles turning white.
He almost burst out laughing.
His fatigue from traveling for many days seemed to disappear with the appearance of the phantom of the black bird.
The Black Bird was right before him.
Ying Zheng looked at the bewildered girl before him. In the embers of the fireworks and the phantom of the black bird, she suddenly became mysterious and unpredictable. Within her slender body lay a tremendous power that he could not comprehend but had to control.
At this moment, the gears of fate, aided by a sheaf of rice, a burst of fireworks, and the phantom of a black bird, emitted a heavy yet clear clicking sound.
When Lin Fengzhi saw the kneeling magistrate and Meng Yi, and then looked at the other party wearing a twelve-tassel crown and dressed in black robes and crimson skirts, his majesty was unparalleled.
Is there anything she doesn't understand?
Lin Fengzhi opened her mouth and called out the name she had longed to see ever since she learned it was from the Qin Dynasty; it was one of her hopes of returning home.
She looked stunned and said, "Your Majesty the First Emperor."
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Author's Note: It's burned out.
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