Ren found Yan at the salvage line with a stamped notice folded in his fist. A streak of soot crossed his cheek, and one corner of the paper had softened where he had sweated through it.
“They rejected the claim,” Ren said. “The steward says the copper collar belongs to the sect. The transfer book says my brother was moved before the trial shift.”
Yan wiped his palms on his trousers before taking the notice. The stamp was dark blue, cleanly pressed. The reason beneath it was one short sentence: property assigned to a transferred worker returned to the yard.
“Where’s the roster?” he asked.
Suli approached carrying a cloth bundle and a wage slip. “Here. The night-shift roster from the furnace line, with his name after the transfer date. And the wage slip from that week.”
She unfolded the papers on a crate. One was a copied roster with two signatures from the night clerk. The other showed the brother’s name and an amount paid for work after the date the transfer ledger said he had left.
Ren placed his thumb on the rejection notice. “They say the collar was collected when he was already gone.”
“Do you know when it went into salvage?” Yan asked.
“I don’t. I was told it came off his cart after the line closed.” Suli looked toward the bin. “The steward says we can appeal, but the collar may be sold before the hearing.”
Ren’s jaw tightened. “Then I’ll take it before someone carries it away.”
“You can’t seize it,” Suli said. “If the steward sees us hauling guild property without approval, he may shut the whole salvage line. The families who work here would lose their shifts.”
“It’s my brother’s.”
“And we need the wage appeal too,” Yan said. “If the line closes, the roster becomes harder to check.”
Ren looked at him. “So I wait while they sell it?”
“Not if we can place the records beside the collar before they make a sale.” Yan scanned the salvage area. The collar lay in a bin marked “furnace fittings,” half-hidden beneath a broken grate. It was broad copper, blackened by heat, with a shallow dent near the clasp. “Who brought it in?”
Bai Jiu stood at the next table, sorting brass hooks. At the mention of the collar, he glanced up. “That came through my route. Huo Jue’s runner delivered it after the trial shift.”
Ren turned sharply. “You carried it?”
“I carried the receipt to the yard office. I didn’t know whose cart it came from.” Bai wiped his hands and pulled out the route book. “I can find the date and time.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Ren asked.
“I didn’t know you were looking for it. I know the route, not the worker who owned every part inside a sack.” Bai opened the book carefully. “Here. Collected from the furnace line after the evening bell. The date is two days after the transfer entry.”
Suli compared it with the roster. “That is the same shift listed here.”
Ren leaned over the page. “Then we take the collar to the steward.”
“Take the papers and ask him to inspect it with you,” Yan said. “If we carry it away, the claim becomes a fight over who touched the bin. If the records match here, the steward can release it without closing the line.”
Ren looked at the collar, then at the families sorting scrap around them. He picked up his notice and folded it along its original crease. “I’ll ask him to come here.”
The steward arrived with Huo Jue a few minutes later. Huo carried a narrow receipt and an irritated expression. “I bought the collar from a salvage runner. My receipt proves it entered the bin properly.”
“It proves when you paid for it,” Yan said. “The route book says when it was collected.”
Huo’s eyes moved to Bai. “You’re involved in this?”
“I’m showing my record. The book protects my fees.” Bai turned it around. “The collar was picked up after the trial shift, as my receipt says.”
The steward compared the date with Suli’s roster and wage slip. He checked both signatures, then asked to see the copper collar. Ren lifted it from the bin, careful not to scrape the papers. The clasp was dented where his brother had once struck it with a hammer to make it fit the furnace cart.
Suli pointed to the dent. “That’s his repair mark. He made the same one on the spare collar in our quarters.”
The steward turned the piece over and inspected the inventory notch. “The transfer entry predates this collection, but the wage roster and payment show the worker remained on shift afterward. The salvage transfer was filed against the wrong date.”
Huo tapped his receipt. “I paid an advance.”
“You paid the seller before the family’s claim was resolved,” the steward said. “The collar was not available for sale. I’ll return it to the family and order the runner to return your advance.”
Huo’s face reddened, but he did not argue further. The steward wrote a release on the back of the rejection notice and stamped it. Ren signed. Suli held the wage slip flat while he did so.
When the steward left, Ren kept the notice and the stamped release together. “Bai, you found the time.”
“I wrote it down because I charge for deliveries. The book is there to protect my fees.” Bai closed it. “I’m glad it helped.”
Ren reached into the cloth bundle Suli had brought and pulled out a hot bun. “Then take this before I eat them all.”
Bai accepted it. “That is a respectable fee.”
The salvage line continued working. No one locked the bins or sent the families away. Ren carried the collar home under one arm, and Suli kept the roster and wage slip in the cloth bundle. They still needed the brother’s records, she said, but now they had the first week of food money in hand and a stamped reason to keep asking.
At their quarters, Ren placed the copper collar on a shelf beside his brother’s old work gloves. Suli touched the dent once, then wrapped the gloves in cloth so soot would not fall on the table.
“I’ll still ask for his transfer papers,” she told Yan. “This doesn’t tell us where he went.”
“No,” Yan said. “It tells us he worked here after the ledger says he left.”
“That’s enough to ask again.” Suli folded the stamped release into the wage file. “Tonight we can eat without borrowing.”
Ren glanced at the collar. “And tomorrow I’ll ask the steward to search the next roster.”
“Tomorrow,” Suli said. “Tonight we eat.”
Bai returned to the salvage line with his empty hand and his route book tucked inside his coat. Yan walked back to his shift with the date from the delivery receipt still clear in his mind. The collar had gone home, but the brother’s absence remained in the records, waiting for another answer.