Clerk Tao brought a revised test slip to the infirmary the next morning. He carried it flat between two boards so the damp ink would not smear.
“Elder Zhao asked me to get your signature,” he said.
Yan had come for his follow-up reading. The stitches on his old arm wound were long gone, but he still remembered the pull of them when he moved too quickly. He took the paper and read the first line.
“I volunteered?”
“It’s the standard wording.”
“The test was assigned.”
Tao lowered his voice. “The form is used for every subject. If you leave the line blank, it still records that you drank the dose.”
“I want it to say I was assigned.”
“Changing the wording may upset the elder.”
Yan glanced at the signature line. “Then the wording should be correct.”
Tao leaned his boards against the wall and took the slip back. “I can write that you received the dose during assigned work. But the old batch sheet says you volunteered.”
“Then the two papers won’t agree.”
“They can be linked.”
“Will the copy show that?”
“It can.” Tao rubbed his thumb against the board’s edge. “Do you want to make this a dispute?”
“I want a record that matches what happened.”
Tao rubbed his thumb along the edge of the form. “The form was made for a volunteer. That’s how the first trials were run. They reused it when the labor office assigned subjects.”
“Then it should have two boxes.”
“The clerk who wrote it wasn’t thinking about the difference.”
“The clerk is writing it now.”
Tao glanced at the corridor. Wu stood outside the door, watching them through the narrow glass panel. “If I change the line, the old sheet still exists. It won’t erase what the office first called it.”
“I’m not asking you to erase it.”
“You want a correction attached to it.”
“I want a later reader to know the first sheet was wrong.”
Tao looked down at the blank. His pen rested across the line, leaving a dark spot of ink. “There’s a difference between refusing the test and correcting the record. You did not refuse.”
“Because I thought refusal could affect Ning’s treatment and my contract.”
“That’s what Zhao said?”
“The contract says service can be extended after refusal. His name was over hers.” Yan kept his voice even. He did not want Tao to mistake anger for a threat. “Write what happened, not what you think I should have done.”
Tao looked at the form again. “I can write assigned dose. I can’t write that you had no choice. That is for the elder to decide.”
“Fine. Write assigned dose.”
Zhao entered from the corridor before Tao could answer. “There is no need to turn a routine test into a challenge.”
Yan looked at the open contract. “Was refusal an option?”
“The contract applies to both you and Ning.”
“You didn’t say what would happen if I refused.”
“I didn’t need to. The terms are clear.”
“They say Ashfall can extend our service.”
“Yes.”
Tao’s eyes moved between them. He kept the blank slip on the board.
Yan pointed to the first line. “Please write ‘assigned test.’”
Zhao’s mouth tightened. “You drank the dose. The result is what matters.”
“The result and the choice both matter.”
The room went still. Wu stood by the door holding a pulse stone. He seemed to want to leave but did not move.
Yan read Tao’s draft before it was finished. The line described the test as “administered during assigned work.” It was better than volunteer, but still left the reason for the assignment vague. He pointed to the open contract. “Can you attach the contract number?”
“That would connect the test to both names.”
“They were already connected.”
Tao paused, then wrote the number in the margin. “This shows which work clause was in effect. It doesn’t say what Zhao would have done if you refused.”
“I’m not asking it to.”
Tao looked at Zhao. “I can leave the volunteer line blank.”
“Then record that it was assigned.”
Tao made the correction in ink. Beneath it, he wrote the dose, time, and measured amount. The old batch sheet remained unchanged. Yan read both copies, then tapped the gap between the phrases.
“Can you link the papers so a later clerk knows why they differ?”
Tao wrote the number of the original batch sheet on the revised slip. “This connects them.”
Yan asked for a copy before Tao returned it to the office. Zhao said the record belonged to Ashfall.
“I’m not asking to keep the original.” Yan held out his hand. “I’m asking for a receipt that says what I signed.”
Tao hesitated, then placed the revised slip on the table. “I can stamp a copy.”
Zhao said, “You can give him the standard copy.”
Tao did not move at first. “The standard form has the volunteer language.”
“Then make a corrected copy.”
Tao pressed the stamp down. The paper made a dry thump. He handed Yan the copy and kept the original for the office. Yan checked the wording and the batch number before folding it into his sleeve.
In the corridor, Tao caught up with him. “Don’t make the paper a contest with Zhao unless you have another witness.”
“You saw him tell you to record it as assigned.”
“I can witness that he said it here. I didn’t witness the first cup.” Tao tapped the edge of Yan’s folded copy. “The stamp proves this wording was in the office today. The batch number ties it to the old sheet. It doesn’t prove what happened in the room.”
“Then what would?”
“A person who was there. Wu, perhaps, if he’s willing to say what he heard.”
Yan glanced back at the testing door. “He saw the dose.”
“He saw you drink it. Whether he agrees the form was wrong is his choice.” Tao adjusted the boards under his arm. “Keep the copy dry. Don’t write on it. If you make notes, keep them separate.”
Yan folded the paper along its existing crease. “You make it sound like one sheet can be dangerous.”
“It can be, if people start treating it as more than it says.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
Yan looked at the stamp. “I have the copy.”
“That’s not the same as having someone who saw what happened.”
“I have the pulse readings.”
“You have readings. Keep them separate from the question of whether you volunteered.” Tao stopped before the testing-room door. “I’m not telling you to stay quiet. I’m telling you not to pretend one paper proves everything.”
Yan tucked the receipt farther inside his sleeve. “I’ll remember.”
At the yard gate, he checked the slip once more. It recorded an assigned dose, the amount, and the link to the older batch sheet. Zhao still controlled the original. The corrected copy belonged to Yan, and the question of refusal was no longer only a line someone else could rewrite.