Ning sat at the table with her clinic card, symptom sheet, and a clean page. She wrote three questions for Physician He: how long to continue the inhalations, which shifts to avoid, and what symptom meant she should stop work and return early.
Yan read over her shoulder. “We should ask what another course would cost.”
“I’ll add it after the medical questions.” She wrote it at the bottom and drew a line between the lists. “First I want to know what my breathing needs. Then I can ask what we can afford.”
He laughed. “This is more organized than the clinic shelf.”
“It should be. I’m the one who has to use the plan.”
She checked her symptom sheet against the calendar. Two coughing nights followed late work near the vents. On other days, the morning shift and inhalation treatment left her breathing steadier. She underlined the dates rather than writing a conclusion.
“Do you think the inhalations are helping?” Yan asked.
“I think I can climb the clinic stairs with one pause instead of two. I think I cough less after the sorting shift. I don’t know how much is the treatment and how much is the station.”
“That’s why you wrote the dates.”
“That’s why I wrote the dates.” She folded the sheet into the clinic card and kept the questions on top. “I want to ask before we add another course. I don’t want to pay for something that isn’t necessary yet.”
Yan placed the treatment money in a separate pouch from his pill-trade earnings. He had added a small amount to the savings jar that week, but it was not enough to cover every cost at once. “I’ll carry the ledger if the physician wants the numbers.”
“You can check the arithmetic. I’ll ask what I need.”
At the door, Ning noticed the bandage on Yan’s palm. The hot-grate burn had nearly healed. The skin had closed, though a pale line remained where the edge had touched him. “Does it still sting?”
“Only if I press hard.”
“Then don’t.”
He opened and closed his hand gently. “The Ashen Marrow method has become a reliable source of strength for me. The internal cost changes into stronger marrow and bones. It doesn’t solve every danger or every bill.”
Ning looked at his palm. “Show me the difference between that and this burn.”
“The manual routes qi through the marrow. The strain that should harm the bone changes for me. The grate burned the skin from outside. The System didn’t change the heat.”
She checked the edge of the bandage, careful not to press the healing skin. “That makes sense when you keep both results in the record.”
“I wrote down the burn, the dressing, and how it felt.”
“Good. If the skin is nearly healed, you can stop wrapping it when the physician says it’s ready.”
“I’ll ask at the next check.”
They walked to the library steps. Gu He waited there with the Ashen Marrow Scripture locked in its case under his arm. Ning thanked him for teaching Yan the complete sequence.
Gu shook his head. “Yan did the practice and kept the record. He deserves the credit.”
Yan asked, “Are there more dangerous texts on the next shelf?”
“There are several.” Gu rested the case on the step. “The next one needs a complete copy before anyone activates it.”
Yan accepted the answer. The damaged manuscript from chapter 50 still had two missing leaves; Gu’s current note concerned a different confiscated text. “Can I read the surviving pages while we search for it?”
“We can compare them with the catalog. No practice until the complete method is present.”
“I’ll bring my notes tomorrow.”
Gu nodded. “I’ll bring the catalog references.”
He checked the case’s latch and the red warning tag on Ashen Marrow. It remained attached to the corrected sequence. The manual had a complete route after Gu’s correction, and Yan had practiced it under supervision. That did not answer what the other damaged texts would do.
Ning pointed to the question list in her hand. “When you see Gu tomorrow, ask for the source before you ask what the art can do.”
“I will.”
“And if a page is missing?”
“I’ll write down the gap.”
“Then I can understand what you know and what you’re still trying to find out.”
At home, Ning began the next inhalation course while Yan added part of the week’s trade earnings to the savings jar. They had not paid the whole bill or left the labor contract. Ning’s treatment had a measured path and her work had changed. Yan’s savings had grown, but not enough to cover a courtyard or a new coat without more work.
Ning folded the clinic plan and put it beneath the symptom sheet. “This week I want to keep the same schedule. If my breathing stays better, I can ask for another week in sorting.”
“I’ll bring the work ledger if Qiao needs the numbers.”
“I’ll ask. You can check the arithmetic.”
Yan set the savings jar back on its shelf. The coins were not enough for a deposit, but he added them one by one and counted the total. Ning corrected the amount when he miscounted a copper. They wrote the sum on the back of the calendar and left the coin for the coat repair out of the clinic pouch.
Before closing, Gu returned the corrected Ashen Marrow Scripture to its locked case. The red-wrapped text he had mentioned sat in the restricted shelf, its final pages missing. He wrote the shelf number and catalog date on a slip to bring tomorrow.
“Bring the complete references,” Gu told Yan at the gate. “You can study the pages, but we will not activate an incomplete art.”
Yan agreed. He looked at the red wrap and the empty spaces where the leaves should have been. Ning had her questions in order, and he had a source and gap to check. Neither had to decide more than that today.