Yan asked Gu whether he could copy the Ashen Marrow sequence before the library opened to the public. The scripture remained locked in its case. Its red warning label had been placed beside the corrected pages, not folded beneath them.
“Not the whole book,” Gu said. “The library will not permit a full duplicate.”
“I want the activation sequence in my private notebook so I can review it before practice.”
“You may copy the sequence under supervision. The warning and the complete method stay together.” Gu opened the cabinet and placed the approved pages on the desk. “No one should see one without the other.”
Yan opened his technique notebook. His right hand was still bandaged. The cut had begun to close, but the skin pulled when he bent his knuckles. He held the pen in his left hand and copied the red warning first: the third full circulation could destroy marrow and leave bones unable to support normal cultivation. Beneath it, he copied the corrected route, the measured breaths, the release point, and the stop condition.
Gu checked each line against the source. “You’re copying the danger as carefully as the method.”
“It belongs beside it.”
“Good.” Gu returned the scripture to its case and locked it away. “Keep that copy with your practice notes, and bring both back when you use the library.”
“I won’t.”
Bai Jiu arrived at the library entrance with two labeled pill packages. He noticed Yan’s bandaged hand before he greeted him.
“What happened?”
“A practice-slab rim caught my knuckles.”
“Did a pill do that?”
“No. It was metal.”
Bai studied the wrap. “Would one of these help?”
Yan examined the labels. One promised a modest qi gain and warned of appetite loss. The second package had uncertain ingredients, though its outer seal was intact. Yan read the first batch number and compared it with the courier tag. He asked Bai where it came from.
“Returned stock from the east route,” Bai said. “This courier brought the record. The other package came from a different shelf, but the ingredient list is incomplete.”
“Then I’ll take the labeled pill and refuse the other.”
Bai nodded. “I thought you would.”
Gu had heard the exchange. He looked at the package in Yan’s hand. “Who delivered it?”
Bai named the courier and gave him the batch tags. Gu read the source line and checked the marked return date. “This is enough to trace if the pill causes trouble. Keep the tag with the wrapper.”
“I will.” Yan paid Bai the agreed price for the dose and delivery. Bai gave him the receipt and kept the unknown package in his satchel.
Yan stepped outside the library before opening the pill. The Ashen Marrow manual remained sealed behind him. He read the label again, checked the batch number, and measured the listed dose. His bandaged hand made the paper awkward to fold, so he used his left fingers and set the rest of the package on a dry stone ledge.
The pill gave off a mild scent of grain and bitter herbs. He swallowed it with water and waited. A small amount of qi gathered in his lower abdomen. The gain was modest and familiar, no stronger than the other weak tablets.
Then the promised appetite loss began. The first minutes left food unappealing, as if his stomach had gone quiet. He sat by the library wall and kept still. The qi remained low and steady. A comfortable warmth settled through his abdomen, and the hollow dullness eased into healthy appetite and digestion.
A silent notice named the retained qi benefit and the reversal of the cultivation-linked appetite loss. Yan did not show it to Bai. He only checked the batch wrapper and wrote down the time.
When he looked up, Bai had returned from the gate. “Any reaction?”
“The qi gathered. The appetite loss came, then my stomach settled and my appetite returned.”
“Did it help the hand?”
“No. The cut still stings when I bend my fingers.”
Bai glanced at the bandage. “So the pill is not a cure for a rim.”
“It isn’t meant to be.” Yan kept his hand close to his body. “The internal effect changed. The skin is still cut.”
Gu watched from the doorway. “Record both. A label tells you what the maker expected. Your notes tell you what happened to you.”
Yan added the pill’s source, batch, dose, and listed effect to the reject map. He recorded the appetite loss and the healthy appetite that followed, then noted that the external cut had not changed. The cultivation benefit and the ordinary injury went in separate lines.
Bai waited while he wrote. “You’ve turned the waste stream into a small market.”
“It’s better than the market that pays me to carry broken jars.”
“Will you tell me if the pill proves useful?”
“It already has. The qi gain is modest, and the appetite change was clear.” Yan paid the agreed amount and checked the receipt before handing it back. Bai wrote the sale in his own route book.
He was about to go when Bai pointed toward a cart loaded with dried roots. “Lift that sack onto the bed. I want to see how much the marrow work changed.”
Yan looked at the sack, then at his bandaged knuckles. “I can lift it without gripping with the cut.”
“Show me.”
Yan placed one forearm beneath the sack and used his uninjured hand to guide its far side. The weight came up easily. He carried it two steps and set it on the cart bed before the weak rail bent under the load.
Bai pressed the rail. It bowed. “That was more than the cart can take.”
“I felt it move.”
“The strength is impressive. The judgment is better.”
“You asked me to lift it. You didn’t ask me to break your cart.”
Bai laughed. “Then I owe you one copper for the demonstration.”
“You owe me two. I saved you a repair.”
They settled on one extra copper and a promise to inspect the cart before the next load. Gu watched them bargain. “You have found a way to charge for your strength.”
“Only when Bai asks for a demonstration.”
Bai tucked his receipt away. Yan put the copy of the activation sequence into his technique notebook, with the red warning folded over its first page. The tested pill wrapper stayed in the reject map. They were separate records for separate work.
The library bell rang. Gu locked the Ashen Marrow Scripture in its case and placed the key inside his sleeve. Yan flexed his wrapped hand once. The cut still stung, so he kept the heavy loads off it. His frame had become stronger from the technique, and the pill’s qi benefit remained. Neither had erased the ordinary consequence of striking metal.