Before leaving, Austin made one final site turnover inspection. The travel gear was already on the wagon. There was no second round of packing.
Tie Kuang met him on Floor 1 with the operations log. His arm was out of its sling, though the healer had ordered him to avoid heavy lifting. His beard was tucked into a machinery-safe net.
“All three floors are running within normal limits,” Tie reported. “The 532 workers are accounted for. The twelve rebuilt golems passed their morning checks. No lost-time injuries since the new rules began.”
Austin checked the water readings, the payroll total, and the repair note from the freight fault. Everything had a time and a name beside it.
“You and Gu Qing hold the base,” he said. “Gu Qing handles people and trade. You handle the plant. If you disagree, stop the affected line and send me a message. Do not settle it with a hammer.”
Tie’s mouth tightened. “I have not carried a hammer for days.”
“Good. Keep the streak.”
Austin pointed to the maintenance board.
“Back-flush the heat exchangers on schedule. Check the freight-cabinet terminal every week. Keep the sales cap. No quota pressure. If a royal official arrives with another seizure order, show him the contract and the water logs first.”
“And if he brings a drill?”
“Keep the workers clear. Then call me.”
Gu Qing waited at the freight landing with Elder Song. “We shall guard your works with our lives, Ancestor.”
“Use the guards, locks, and emergency stops first.”
On the surface, Xiaoyao waited beside the wagon and two pack mules. He wore work trousers, traveling boots, and a canvas jacket. The sample ingots and tools were secure. Pug’s harness carried the tent and water jugs.
Austin inspected the mules’ shoes and the wagon straps. “Solid clinches, no loose nails. A thrown shoe on shale strands you.” Xiaoyao had done both jobs well.
“Ready?” Austin asked.
Xiaoyao looked back at the three-floor complex hidden beneath the mountain. “I have the trade ledgers, the buyer list, and the maintenance notebook.”
“Then we are ready.”
Clear Sky disciples lined the trail to see them off. Gu Qing raised both arms, and two thousand voices shouted farewell to the Patriarch of the Cosmic Spanner.
Austin gave them a small wave.
“And do not run the laundry and pottery kiln on the same breaker.”
Gu Qing’s farewell caught in his throat. Elder Song quietly wrote that down.
Austin, Xiaoyao, and Pug started down the northern trail. The little stones and pine needles still circled Austin’s boots. His Stellar-Steel wrench rested in its holster, and his new hard-hat lamp was switched off in the morning sun.
Behind them, Tie Kuang and Gu Qing remained in charge of Sunset Peak. The mine was stable, the water was recovering, and the workers were paid. Three underground floors continued their steady work without needing Austin at every switch.
Ahead lay Canglan Citadel, the artisan expo, new blueprints, and difficult talks about fair trade.
Austin checked the road map once, then put it away.
“First stop is the tool market,” he said. “If anyone tries to sell us a revolutionary socket with twelve sides, keep walking.”
Xiaoyao made a note. Pug barked in three-part agreement.
The road north opened through the pines.