Han gathered the local watch volunteers in the eastern post and set two lanterns on the table.
The post stood where the orchard road divided toward the river farms. It had a narrow gate, a dry room for supplies, and a clear line to the clinic if someone needed help. Sergeant Ren had drawn a rotation board on the wall. No one had more than two night shifts in a row.
“We need a signal everyone can use,” Han said. “A bell for immediate danger. Shuttered lanterns for a report that can wait for a runner.”
Ren demonstrated the code: two short flashes for a traveler, three for a road obstruction, and a steady lamp for a request for help. He asked each volunteer to repeat the meanings. One woman mixed up the three-flash signal with the message for a lost cart. Ren corrected her and drew the pattern beside the words.
A man at the back asked why the watch needed a signal if there was already a bell.
“The bell carries farther,” Han said. “It also brings everyone out at once. A traveler on the road doesn’t need to wake the whole settlement.”
The man nodded. He had taken an early shift so he could care for his father at night. Ren wrote the hours next to his name and asked if he had a lantern at home. He did not. Bai had promised to bring one from the market route, but it had not arrived.
