The courtyard had gone quiet by the time Yan reached the movement annex. A woman in a gray apron was carrying a tray of shallow bowls toward the east court. At the next table, a candidate shook an empty medicine case, then turned it upside down as if a glass dropper might fall out.
“It was here,” he said. “The clerk must have taken it.”
“Don’t touch the case,” Examiner Luo replied. “Step back.”
The candidate, a tall boy with a red sash, stepped back only half a pace. “How am I supposed to finish without a dropper?”
“We will inspect the station.”
Wei was beside the table. He had spotted the dropper beneath a stool and was already bending to pick it up. Yan caught his sleeve.
“Wait.”
“It’s lying on the floor.”
“Look at the seal.”
The waxed paper across the candidate’s case had a hairline split. The stool leg rested against the corner. A dark blue streak marked the stone below it. The dropper’s tip carried a bead of the same color.
Wei withdrew his hand. “That was close.”
“Is the dye from the test solution?” Yan asked.
The woman in the gray apron came nearer. “Blue indicator. A drop can stain the table, but it won’t tell you which bottle was used.”
“Did you set up this case?” Luo asked.
“I checked the tray, not the seal.”
“Then no one touches anything until we see the station list.”
Candidate Lin stood at the next table, her hand suspended above her own case. “Does the cracked seal disqualify our pair?”
“No,” Yan said, before Luo could answer. He pointed to the notice on the wall. “Equipment damage is reviewed. It doesn’t automatically count against the pair.”
Lin read it, then lowered her hand. The red-sashed boy finally stepped away from the table.
Luo called two exam clerks to bring the inventory sheet. While they checked the setup, Wei waited with his hands folded behind his back. The discipline cost him. Yan could tell from the way his jaw shifted each time someone moved near the dropper.
“You saw it first,” Yan said quietly.
“I thought I could lift it without disturbing the stain.”
“Maybe. But if you’d touched it, they’d need to decide whether the evidence came from you.”
Wei gave a dry laugh. “You’ve been blamed for a thing before it happened.”
“Usually by someone who needed the work finished.”
The clerks compared the numbered cups with the setup list. The dropper belonged to this station. The dye was part of the indicator test. Luo checked the seal under a lamp and found a shallow crescent where the stool leg had pressed into it. The case had shifted when someone moved the stool to make room for the tray.
“It wasn’t taken,” Luo said. “The seal cracked when the stool struck the case. The dropper fell through the gap in the lower shelf.”
The red-sashed boy folded his arms. “So we lose the time while you sort it out?”
“No,” Luo said. “We stop the station. You will get a replacement dropper and a reset.”
“My partner and I were ready.”
“Then you’ll be ready when we restart.”
The clerk lifted the stool. One leg wobbled. She set it down again and pressed the seat. A loose plank beneath the table clicked against the stone.
“There,” Yan said.
Luo ordered everyone away while the maintenance workers pulled the table clear. The plank had split at its nail holes. It rose at one edge and had caught the stool leg, tipping it toward the case. Another glass dropper could have fallen if the table had taken one more shift.
The maintenance worker pried the board up with a narrow iron tool. Dust rose. A second candidate coughed and backed toward the courtyard. Lin helped move the tray to a dry part of the wall, keeping her fingers beneath its wooden rim so the bowls would not tip.
“Do you need a hand?” Yan asked.
“I need this table out of the way,” she said. “You can take the other end.”
He did. They moved it together and set it down beside the support pillar. The tray rattled but held. The loose plank came free with a squeal of nails. A dark mark crossed its underside where the stool had scraped it.
“The stain is from the indicator,” Lin said. “The board didn’t break a bottle.”
The woman in the gray apron brought a clean cloth and wiped the stone. “We’ll check the other tables before the next group.”
The red-sashed candidate was still frowning. “Can we begin?”
“After the table is stable,” Luo said. “You’ll have the full time.”
“We were supposed to use the dropper.”
“You’ll have a new one.”
Wei looked toward the plank. “The rule protected everyone better than a favor would have.”
Yan shook the dust from his palms. “I wasn’t offering a favor.”
“You offered Lin your remaining time.”
“I offered. Luo said the candidates can’t trade it.”
“And the rule let her finish during the reset.”
“That’s the difference.”
The maintenance workers removed the other loose boards, then tested the tables with a weighted sack. The reset took nine minutes. The candidates waited in the courtyard while the clerks checked every case and recorded the damaged seal. Lin stood near the water jars, rubbing her thumb where a splinter had caught it.
“It’s nothing,” she said when Yan noticed.
“Still, wash it before the next station.”
“I will. Your coat survived the move.”
“It’s had worse days.”
The clock started again. Luo explained that the damaged equipment would not affect the candidates’ scores and that the standard reset would apply to the next station as well. He read the correction aloud and had the clerk pin a copy to the board.
Lin returned to her table with a quiet young man who had been waiting beside the wall. Their case had stayed closed, but they had lost two minutes during the inspection. The examiner gave them the full reset interval, then started their clock only after the replacement dropper was set down. Lin read the ingredient labels aloud while her partner measured. He stopped once to ask whether she meant the larger spoon or the narrow mark etched inside it. She showed him the mark, then checked his count herself.
They finished with time to spare. Lin pressed a thumb to the edge of the result card while her partner signed. When the clerk reached for it, she asked him to keep their original notes with the answer. “We wrote the dose before the pause,” she said. “If the card is separated, it may look as if we changed it after the reset.”
“I’ll attach both,” the clerk replied. He wrote the reset time beside their names. Lin watched him do it, then let out a breath. Her partner gathered the case notes and handed them to her for safekeeping.
This time no one argued. The red-sashed boy accepted the replacement dropper. Wei and Yan helped carry the empty trays to the next court. Lin came after them with her case notes under one arm.
“I thought they might blame the first person to touch the dropper,” she said.
“They had the setup list,” Yan replied.
“They had the list after they looked for it.”
“That’s why it matters that they found it.”
She nodded and tucked the notes into her sash. “I’m glad you stopped Wei.”
“He stopped himself.”
Wei glanced back at the table. The replacement dropper gleamed beside the waxed case. “Next time I’ll ask before reaching.”
“Next time there may not be a cracked seal,” Yan said.
“Then I’ll have to find another reason.”
Luo called them into the east court. The assistants had placed the water bowls in rows beside a chalked path. Yan watched the surface of one bowl quiver as someone set a tray down.
“This looks easy,” Lin said.
Wei crouched to inspect the first turn. “That’s usually when it isn’t.”
Yan checked the table for a wobble before he took his place in line.