The next morning, Gu opened the Thousand Fractures Core on a clean table in the guest quarters. Bai placed the catalog and receipt beside it. Yan washed his hands before touching the pages. His forearm had a narrow tender line beneath a light strip of cloth, but the cut was closed. He could move his fingers and wrist without pain.
Qinghe glanced at the arm. “Any numbness?”
“No.”
“Any heat or swelling?”
“Not unless I’ve been showing it off.”
“Don’t show it off.”
Yan smiled. “I used the Palm after the physician cleared the toxin.”
“That was a sensible time to use it.” Qinghe checked the skin around the strip. “It’s clean. You can remove this later if it stays dry.”
