After breakfast, Yan entered the clinic laboratory and closed the door against the morning noise. Qinghe sat across from him with the pulse chart on her knee. The old manual lay open between them.
Yan settled his hands and began the first breath. Hollow Heart Meditation drew his attention inward, then asked him to press fear, grief, and attachment away. He followed the complete sequence without strain. Each instruction felt clear and easy to hold.
At the point where the manual called for emotional flattening, his worry about the Registry came into focus. He could name the fear of losing control in the arena and the anger he felt at the witness probes. Concern for the people who might be questioned stayed beside both. The method did not erase those feelings; they separated into distinct things he could look at without being pulled by any one of them.
Yan finished the cycle and opened his eyes. The room seemed quiet, though the clinic beyond the door was busy. A cart rattled past. He could hear it and still hold his attention where he wanted it.
“How do you feel?” Qinghe asked.
“Clear. Not empty.” He searched for the right words. “The anger is there, but it isn’t blocking the concern. I can return to the breath without pretending either one has gone away.”
