Qinghe checked Yan’s shoulder in the infirmary annex. The bruise was shallow, though the center had darkened overnight. Wei’s red chest mark had faded and caused no lasting injury.
“Raise your arm only to here,” she told Yan, guiding him through the motion. “Stop when it begins to pull.”
He raised it halfway. The sore point tightened.
“That’s enough,” she said. “It should improve if you leave it alone.”
Gu set the rubbing of Thousand Fractures beside Qinghe’s readings. She compared the listed cycles with Yan’s current foundation and marked the places where the pressure chamber might confuse the pulse readings.
“I can recognize when the ruin adds outside pressure,” she said. “I can’t predict how this method will feel or what it will do.”
“Would you tell me to wait?” Yan asked.
“I’d tell you to wait until the room is isolated. That is a condition we can check. I wouldn’t choose the method for you.”
