The courtyard was cooler in the morning, before the sun reached the stone wall. Qinghe set a bowl of the additive-free mixture on the clinic table and turned the recipe page toward two cultivators who had agreed to test it during rehabilitation.
The first, Saren, had become dizzy whenever he climbed the stairs to his room. The second, Ilyen, still felt weak after a long illness. Qinghe asked each of them what medicines they had taken, then wrote their answers beside the planned dose. Jessa checked the ingredients and brought a second bottle that would remain untouched for comparison.
“You can stop at any point,” Qinghe told them. “We are measuring a modest support during activity, not promising a cure.”
Saren read the paper, then signed the line indicating he had chosen the test. Ilyen asked what would happen if the mixture did nothing.
“Then we record that. You can continue with the other parts of your rehabilitation.”
Yan watched from his private bench, where his stabilizer records remained closed. “I can take the same formula too,” he offered.
Qinghe shook her head. “Your response would not tell me how it works for them. You can help by timing the walk and carrying water.”
