Hanlo’s followers gathered at dawn in a grove beyond White Orchard. A low platform stood between two old trees, with benches set in rows facing it. Several people carried the red-circulation sheets they had bought; others brought small bowls of tonic sold by the preacher. They had come from the village and nearby farms, drawn by the promise of a method they could afford.
Qinghe and Ning arrived with a clinic cart, water and clean cloth. Two volunteers pushed it along the shaded path and left the wheels clear of the gathering. They asked each person whether they had practiced the sequence before. A few admitted they had, but could not remember how many cycles. Others said they had not tried it yet. One young man had brought the tonic but not opened it.
“Did Hanlo tell you what was in the bowl?” Qinghe asked.
“He said it would support the first surge.”
“Do you know what herbs are in it?”
The man shook his head. Qinghe asked him to set it on the cart until they could identify the ingredients. He agreed, though he kept glancing toward Hanlo’s platform.
Some people said the red art was the only advancement they had found that did not require rare pills. One woman had spent her savings on medicine for her mother and wanted a technique she could practice without buying more. A farmhand said he had come to see if the short surge would let him work through the harvest without…
