Huo Jue set a stone on the practice-yard platform and announced that Yan’s pills should prove themselves in a public lift. A small crowd gathered, drawn by the sound of the block striking wood.
“If the pills make you stronger,” Huo called, “lift what I lift. I’ll put an unmarked pill on the table for your prize.”
Yan looked at the jar Huo had set beside the platform. Its seal was intact, but there was no label or source tag. “I won’t take that.”
“Afraid it won’t work?”
“I don’t know what’s in it. I’ll compete, but I’ll use a labeled tonic I’ve already tested.”
Bai stepped onto the yard’s weighing mat. “Then the contest measures strength. It doesn’t prove medicine is safe for anyone else.”
Huo turned to the crowd. “He has to say that, or no one will buy his stock.”
“He has to say it because it’s true,” Bai replied. He checked the practice blocks and selected one with a flat base. “We use the same stone for each lift. The line is from the mat to the shoulder. No throwing, no twisting.”
Huo took the first position. He crouched, gripped the block, and lifted. The stone came up unevenly, tilting toward his right. He steadied it at chest height and raised it to his shoulder. The crowd applauded. Huo set it down with a hard thump and shook out his arms.
“Your turn,” he said to Yan.
Yan read the batch tag on his tonic once more. It was one he had tested, with a complete source and ingredient list. He measured the listed dose, swallowed it with water, and waited for the qi to gather.
The warmth began in his lower abdomen and moved through his chest. The tag’s listed heat strain turned into smooth circulation. His breathing felt open and his muscles answered cleanly. He stepped onto the mat and placed his hands on the same block.
“Lift to the shoulder,” Bai said. “Nothing beyond that.”
Yan bent at the knees, set his back, and raised the stone. It came up smoothly without shaking. He held it at shoulder level long enough for Bai to call the count, then lowered it onto the mat under control.
The crowd cheered. Yan grinned at the sound and asked, “Did you bring a heavier stone?”
Huo pointed to a larger block along the wall. “That one.”
Bai tested the block’s base before they moved it. The stone was heavier, with rough edges and an uneven underside. He placed it on the platform and checked the wedges. Yan waited while he pressed each brace.
“Ready?” Huo asked.
Yan took his stance. The qi remained smooth through him. He lifted the second block from the mat to his waist, then continued to shoulder height. The load pressed into his arms, but he kept his back straight. The block reached his shoulder without a tremor. He held it for a breath, then lowered it carefully.
The sound of the block returning to the mat brought another cheer. Yan laughed, pleased by the strength and the ease of the circulation. He flexed his hands and stepped away from the stone.
Huo moved toward it before Bai could reset the wedges. “I can lift it too.”
“Let me set it first,” Bai said.
“I know how to lift a stone.” Huo crouched and seized the near edge. He pulled hard, twisting as he tried to drag the block toward himself. It rose only a few inches. He jerked again, and his back seized. He dropped the block and fell onto one knee, his hands gripping his lower spine.
The crowd’s cheer died. Yan reached for the block, then stopped before touching it. “Don’t try to stand yet.”
“I’m fine,” Huo said through clenched teeth.
“You’re holding your back.”
“It’s a strain. I can stand.”
Bai sent a runner for the yard medic and asked the crowd to clear space. Yan moved the stone away from Huo’s legs only after the wedges were set. Then he crouched at Huo’s side without pulling him upright.
“Did you feel a snap?” Yan asked.
“No. It seized when I twisted.”
“Stay still until the medic checks you.”
Huo’s face was pale. He tried to laugh and stopped halfway. “You don’t need to look pleased.”
“I’m not. The stone wasn’t going anywhere.” Yan reached for a folded cloth and placed it within Huo’s grasp. “Keep pressure where it hurts if that helps.”
The yard medic arrived with two assistants. She asked Huo to describe the movement and checked his legs and lower back before helping him sit against a rolled blanket. She told him not to lift until she had examined him properly. Huo complained that he had only lost the contest.
“You lost the lift because you twisted under load,” she said. “The injury is from the way you moved, not from a cultivation cost. Let me finish checking you.”
Yan moved back to make room. The tonic had strengthened his circulation, but it had not made the stone harmless or given him reason to ignore another person’s injury. He watched Huo’s face settle as the medic supported his back.
“Did I win?” Huo asked after she finished the first check.
“You lifted the first block,” Bai said. “Yan lifted both. The prize goes to him.”
“I’m not asking for pity.”
“Neither are we giving it,” Yan said. “You can challenge again after you heal.”
The medic let Huo stand with help. He could bear weight on both legs, but she ordered him to rest and come to the infirmary for a full examination. One assistant walked beside him while he left the yard.
Bai collected the prize purse from the table. Yan had won the coins, not the unknown pill. He counted them and divided the amount with Bai for their courier route. The rest went toward a warm supper. Bai returned Huo’s unmarked jar to the sack without opening it.
“People heard the crowd,” Bai said. “They’ll remember the lift.”
“They should remember the warning too.”
“They heard it.”
The crowd started to disperse. A woman asked Bai for the source tag on the tonic Yan had used. Bai showed her the exact batch and the printed ingredients. She copied the number and said she would ask the infirmary about it before buying anything.
Yan tucked the tag copy away. “That’s better than taking Huo’s jar.”
“Most people want an answer that fits in a sentence.”
“Then give them the source and the sentence.”
They walked to the supper stall. Yan’s body still carried the comfortable circulation from the tonic. The demonstration had pleased him, and the extra lift had felt clean and controlled. Huo’s back was another matter; the medic would decide how serious it was.
Before closing, Huo returned with one assistant. He could stand slowly, one hand at his lower back. “The lift was clean,” he told Yan. “What pill did you use?”
Yan showed him the source tag, not the jar. Huo read it and returned the paper. “I’ll challenge you again when my back heals.”
“Bring a sounder stone.”
Huo almost smiled. Then the assistant escorted him toward the infirmary. Yan kept the purse and tag copy in separate pockets. He had accepted the contest, not the mystery dose, and the crowd had seen the difference.