The morning after Yan’s Golden Core breakthrough, Bai laid three delivery slips across the clinic table. He had weighted their corners with buns so they would not curl in the draft.
“Three hospitals,” he said. “Three carts. Same crescent mark.”
Yan leaned over them. The stamp was small, pressed beside different route numbers. His new core responded to the sight of a problem with a warm, eager thrum. He wanted to be out the door before Bai had finished speaking.
“Where did they leave from?”
“South gate yard.” Bai pushed a bun toward him. “Eat first. Your great new realm does not make an empty stomach useful.”
“It might make me carry the evidence chest.” Yan picked up the bun and took a bite. “That is useful.”
Qinghe came in with her coat half buttoned. “The independent test is due this morning. If you leave before Lian repeats it, we lose the chance to have the result witnessed.”
Yan looked from the slips to the door. The yard would not vanish. The test mattered because the first result had been challenged, and he had promised not to turn a clear answer into a rushed one.
