Yan brought the copied manual to the clinic laboratory after breakfast. Qinghe set it open beside a cup of tea and checked the sequence against the original. Gu joined them with the shrine notes, then stood aside when a patient called him from the hall.
Yan read the first posture aloud. “Feet level, hands resting, breath even.”
“Continue,” Qinghe said.
He followed each step with a finger. The method asked him to gather his attention until fear, grief, and attachment faded from the edge of awareness. The old practitioner’s warning marked the point where the quiet could become loss.
Yan stopped there. “This is where the harmful effect begins?”
“That is what the record says.” Qinghe checked the page. “The author describes a smooth calm at first. Later, he noticed the absence of feeling only when someone else pointed it out.”
Yan sat back from the book. He had expected a sharp change, something he could feel as clearly as a wound. A slow quiet would be harder to judge.
“What should I watch?”
