Potato Tales

    Translating novels one potato at a time.

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    After tidying the strands of hair that had fallen over her forehead in front of the bronze mirror, Zheng Hanrui moved the mirror aside and smiled as she
    asked, “Sir, this bronze mirror feels so warm to the touch and has been polished so well—where did you get it? I’d like to buy one too.” Gu Ning’an replied blandly, “This mirror was taken from my tomb.” Zheng Hanrui: ??? “So it was… buried
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