The infirmary bed was too narrow for Yan’s boots, so Nurse Mei set them on the floor beneath the cot. She wrote “possible meridian injury” on the intake strip and asked him where the pain had started.
“Under my ribs,” he said. “Then it ran through both arms.”
“Did it reach your hands?”
“My fingers locked around the cup.”
“Did you fall?”
“My knees gave way. Wu caught me.”
Mei checked his pulse, then asked him to breathe in slowly. He felt the channels open cleanly, but he let his breath catch at the top as though the draught still hurt. The nurse’s fingers paused on his wrist.
“That’s smoother than I expected,” she said.
“Is that good?”
“It’s unusual. I want a second reading before anyone gives you a purge.”
A senior attendant appeared at the foot of the cot. “The test protocol calls for one.”
Mei kept her hand on the pulse point. “The pulse is not showing the expected corrosion.”
“The card says corrosion is likely.”
“The patient is in front of me. The card can wait until I finish.”
Yan kept his eyes lowered. He had not expected the nurse to argue with the protocol, and he did not want to make her work harder by revealing the change inside him. “I’m dizzy,” he said.
“Then stay seated.” Mei moved his boots closer to the bed. “Can you stand without help?”
“I think so.”
“Don’t guess. We’ll measure.”
She marked the floor beside the cot and told him to stand when she gave the word. Yan planted his feet, put one hand on the mattress, and rose slowly. His balance was steady. He let his fingers shake once. Mei asked him to stay still for ten breaths. He did, then sat again.
The senior attendant watched the pulse stone. Its thin green line remained even. “The readings are clean,” he said. “Perhaps the dose was weak.”
“Wu measured it,” Yan said. “The cup was full.”
“Did you practice a cleansing method?”
“No. I’ve only used a beginner circulation chart.”
The attendant looked toward Mei. “The protocol still calls for a purge.”
“After another reading,” she said. “The medicine may do more harm than the draught if we give it without need.”
Yan sat with his hands on his knees. He wanted to try one turn of the beginner route. He also knew the staff might notice if he looked too well. When Mei left to find a second reader, he sat up and guided a small breath through the circuit. The qi traveled through the place that used to catch under his ribs. He stopped after one turn, not because he had to, but because he wanted to understand what had changed.
No fresh pain came. He heard footsteps outside and lay back before the door opened.
Mei returned with another attendant. The two checked the pulse stone, compared it with the first reading, then checked Yan’s wrist by hand. The route remained smooth. The senior attendant took the purge jar away from the bedside.
“Observe him through the afternoon,” Mei said. “No purge unless the readings change.”
The attendant nodded. “I’ll mark the delay as a nursing decision.”
“Mark the readings too.”
He wrote the time and the pulse result on the strip. Mei signed beneath it. Yan watched the ink dry.
The meal bell sounded. The infirmary cook carried in a bowl of thin rice porridge. Yan took three spoonfuls before he realized he was hungry. The cook offered him a second bowl, and he accepted it. His appetite was stronger than it had been before the test.
After he ate, Mei set the pulse stone beside the cot and asked him to breathe through the route he knew. Yan followed the beginner chart’s first turn without gathering more than a little qi. The stone’s green line held steady. At the old catch beneath his ribs, it lifted and went on.
“Did you feel that move?” he asked.
“I saw the reading change.” Mei leaned closer to the stone. “Did it hurt?”
“No.”
“Was it the same pain as before?”
“No. That was hot. This is just the route.”
She wrote the difference on the margin of the intake strip. “I can record what you tell me. I can’t say what caused the change.”
“I understand.”
“Don’t practice again until I finish the next reading.”
“I wasn’t going to.”
She gave him a skeptical look. Yan sat back and folded his hands over his stomach. He could feel the qi held there, but he did not push it through another turn. Mei checked the stone at the start, then after one minute of quiet. The line remained level.
She moved the stone to his other wrist and repeated the measurement. The two readings were close. “Your channels carry the same pulse on both sides,” she said. “The draught should have made one side uneven.”
“Could it still change later?”
“It could. That’s why I want the afternoon reading.” She copied the values onto the intake strip and showed him the numbers. “If you feel pain again, tell me what you were doing when it started.”
“Will I get a copy of this?”
“You can ask for one when we close the observation.”
“I’d like to see the notes before they go to Zhao.”
Mei folded the strip so the readings stayed visible. “I’ll put the clinic copy in the infirmary book. Zhao can have his own report. He does not get to change mine.”
Yan nodded. Her answer gave him no explanation, but it gave the readings a place outside Zhao’s testing room.
Mei noticed. “Can you keep food down?”
“Yes.”
“Any nausea?”
“No.”
She wrote that down as well. Yan said nothing about the System. The notice had named a change, but he did not know whether he could trust it or how long it would last. He had no interest in explaining something he could not yet describe.
Before the second reading, Zhao came to the door. “Does he remember the taste?”
Mei did not step aside. “He is under observation.”
“I asked him a question.”
Yan looked up. “It tasted like bitter root and copper.”
“The ingredients?”
“Frostvine, river ginseng, black salt.”
“Did you feel the qi rise?”
“Yes.”
“Was the pain severe?”
“Yes.”
Zhao nodded to Wu, who stood behind him. “Keep the residue. Don’t discard the first cup.”
The elder left. Mei watched the door close, then checked Yan’s pulse once more. “You’re steady. We’ll take another reading after the afternoon bell.”
“Can I go back to work then?”
“If the reading stays the same and you can stand without dizziness.”
“Good. I have a tally waiting.”
“Let the clerk wait. You’re not the one who decided to test the draught.”
Yan lowered his eyes. He did not want to be treated as a victim or a miracle. “I know.”
Mei placed his boots by the cot again. “Then stay here until I say you can go.”
He lay back and let his breath settle. The qi inside him moved without catching. Beyond the infirmary wall, the yard bells continued their ordinary schedule. No one outside this room knew he had been changed.