Ning carried Physician He’s work restriction to Steward Qiao’s office. Yan waited outside with the wage ledger and her inhalation kit, keeping both arms clear so she could speak without someone else holding the papers for her.
“I’d like to move from the night shift at Furnace Three to the sorting room,” Ning said. “The vents worsen my breathing. I can take a lower-paid morning slot if one is open.”
Qiao read the physician’s note and looked at the roster board. “The sorting room is full this week. I don’t have a place to put you without moving another worker.”
“I’m not asking for another worker’s place. Could I take a morning vacancy when one opens? I can wait a few days.”
“There is a vacancy next week, but the work is less specialized and pays less.”
“That is acceptable.” Ning pointed to the note. “I can finish a full shift if it avoids the worst vent hours and includes the inhalation break.”
Qiao asked how long she could stand at the sorting table and whether she needed a stool. Ning said she could stand for a full shift but wanted a seat for the inhalation break. He added that to the trial terms. She checked the wording herself so the note would not make her seem unable to work.
“I’m asking to change the air I work in,” she said. “I’m not asking to leave the crew.”
Qiao nodded. “The roster will still count your full hours.”
Qiao studied the schedule. “The morning team starts before the furnace opens. You would sort herbs and dry wraps. The air is still dusty, but there is no direct vent line.”
“That is better than Furnace Three.”
Yan shifted the wage ledger in his hands. He did not answer for her. Qiao glanced toward him. “Can you cover one extra cart run if she changes shifts and leaves a staffing gap?”
“If you need me to,” Yan said. “But Ning should choose the station.”
“I have,” she said. “I’ll take the lower wage if I can move next week.”
Qiao turned to the roster and wrote a two-week trial. “I’ll move you to the morning sorting room for two weeks. We’ll review after that. You’ll keep the inhalation break. Yan can cover one extra cart run during the first week, but he won’t be assigned beyond his regular hours without agreement.”
Ning checked the dates. “The trial begins on the next roster. I’ll sign.”
She signed beneath the schedule. Yan handed her the wage ledger. They calculated the difference together outside the office. The morning shift paid a small amount less because it had no night bonus. Yan suggested using the pill trade to cover the gap.
“I want the numbers, not a promise,” Ning said.
They sat on the bench by the yard and counted the weekly income. If Bai’s route stayed steady, selling two labeled rejects a week would cover most of the lost bonus. The trade might not bring the same profit every week, so Ning marked the difference as uncertain and left the clinic fees in the budget first.
“We can use the route money if it comes,” she said. “If it doesn’t, we reduce another expense before borrowing.”
“I’ll keep the earnings separate from the treatment money.”
“And I’ll decide whether to keep the shift after the trial. If my breathing doesn’t improve, we ask the physician again.”
The cut from the hot grate was wrapped in Yan’s left hand. The blister had stopped throbbing as much, but he kept it dry. It did not affect the request or his ability to carry the ledger. He would use his other hand for the extra cart run if the steward assigned it.
Before the trial began, Qiao called Yan to the office and confirmed the extra run would be limited to one shift. Yan checked that it would not overlap with Bai’s courier deliveries. He marked the day in the wage ledger and asked the supervisor to sign the assignment. The extra pay was not guaranteed until the cart had been counted at the end of the shift.
Ning’s first morning shift began after the weekend. The sorting room smelled of dried herbs and cloth. It was not clean air, but there was no furnace blast through the wall. The supervisor showed her where to sit for the inhalation break and which bundles she was permitted to move.
Yan walked her to the room, then went to his own station. At the end of his shift, he met her by the yard gate. She looked tired, but she was breathing without stopping to cough.
“How was it?” he asked.
“Dusty. My throat is scratchy. I didn’t have to stand near the vent.”
“Does the kit help?”
“I used it after work, not yet here. The shift is the part I can judge today.” She folded the schedule and put it in her pouch. “I came home tired instead of gasping.”
“That sounds like an improvement.”
“It’s one day. We’ll see how the rest of the week goes.”
Two workers from the night crew met them at the gate. One wanted to trade a morning slot, and the other asked whether there was room in sorting for part of a shift. Ning explained that the first two weeks were a trial and that they would have to ask Qiao about a rotation. She did not offer them a place she had not been given. They agreed to speak with him together the next morning.
Yan made rice that evening. He stirred the pot too often, and the grains broke against the spoon. Ning watched him from the bench.
“Stop stirring it like medicine broth.”
“I’m trying to keep it from sticking.”
“You’re making it sticky.”
He lifted the spoon and let the rice settle. Ning added a little water, lowered the flame, and left it alone. The rice came out soft but uneven. They ate it with greens and broth. Their meal was simple, but the new shift had begun and the inhalation plan remained within reach.
Two other workers asked Ning about the morning slot. The room could not take everyone at once, but the supervisor had three staggered starts. Ning spoke with them and arranged a rotation so each could request lower exposure on the days when the vent wind turned toward the quarters. No one lost every night bonus, and the sorting room stayed staffed.
Qiao posted the revised schedule before the next shift. He called Ning to verify the names and start times. She checked the roster herself, then signed the bottom of the sheet. The crew arrived on time the following morning. The change had not solved every symptom or every cost, but the agreement gave her a defined trial and a date to review it.
Yan kept the wage ledger and the pill-trade earnings on separate pages. Two labeled rejects could cover most of the shift difference if the route remained steady. He would not promise that income before Bai’s deliveries were counted. Ning looked over the numbers and nodded.
“Now we know what the choice costs,” she said.
“And what it might help.”
She put the schedule in the family box beside the physician’s note. The first morning shift had left her tired rather than breathless, but she would keep tracking the next two weeks before deciding whether to stay. Yan washed the rice pot with his uninjured hand. The burn remained wrapped and dry; by the time the meal was finished, it had stopped stinging at rest.