The council met beneath the patched awning that had once sheltered the emergency kitchen. Rain had stained its canvas, and one corner still carried a smoke mark from the first winter. Residents sat on benches and upturned crates. Han Yue spread her military charts across two grain boxes, then placed a stone on the corner before the wind could lift it.
Some residents wanted Yan to remain until the Registry patrols moved farther away. An orchard worker stood to say that the river had been closed twice in a month. “If the fleet comes through, the people at the water gate will need you here.”
Another resident answered that keeping Yan in the refuge would not stop a fleet from closing the sea lanes. “We can’t ask one person to stand at every road.”
Han turned the chart to show the channel and the patrol lines. “These vessels can intercept the river route before anyone sees the island. If we go, we need a second path and a signal plan. We can’t assume the old map still matches the fleet.”
A man on the far bench frowned at the chart. “Then the trip might put three people in danger and leave us with no help.”
