The attendants cleared the reinforced frame from the ring and laid out a field of bronze bells. Fine cords ran between them. Qinghe checked the pattern against the Black Lamp manual while the arena master kept the crowd behind the outer rail.
“The test measures whether the cords move,” Qiu said. “The art hides the practitioner. If a bell rings, the audience will know you disturbed the field.”
Yan read the final instruction once more. The method burned a span of the practitioner’s life in exchange for concealment. The expected cost was clear. He had the required cultivation, and he understood the complete sequence. Reading had not activated the art. Now, with the field ready, he chose to begin.
Qinghe pointed to the first cord. “Walk the marked path. Don’t brush the table or touch the attendants.”
“I’ll pass close enough to show the cords aren’t simply out of reach.”
The arena master agreed to Yan’s route. Wei checked it from the witness rail. One bell hung near the court table, another at the ring’s center, and a third near the far edge. If Yan passed the recorder without disturbing the bell, the crowd would have an easy comparison.
Dr. Shen called for the baseline. Yan’s pulse and breath were steady after the Torrent tests. The physicians recorded the readings, then moved outside the cord field. The clerk confirmed that every bell was still.
