After several days on the public road, the carriage reached the capital gate just after rain. A spirit-lamp over the arch changed color and announced the hour in a clear voice. Street wardens moved freight carts with colored flags, directing one line into the city while another waited at the bridge.
Yan leaned through the carriage window. Beyond the wall, the boulevard stretched three carts wide. The stone had been swept clean, and the tiled roofs shone where water still clung to the edges. A pair of children ran beside a baker’s cart, arguing over which one had the better bun.
“Do people have a rule for stopping to stare?” Yan asked.
The driver laughed. “Only if you block the carts.”
A warden lifted a blue flag. The carriage rolled forward. Yan ducked in before anyone had to tell him twice.
The entry clerk checked their travel slip and asked what goods they were carrying. Bai gave the names of the sealed cases. The clerk checked the wax marks but did not break them. He asked whether the medical notes belonged to the patient. Ning said they did and kept her hand on her bag.
“Then you should keep them with you,” he said. “We record that they entered the gate. We don’t take them.”
