Yard Guard Pei kept Ma’s wrists bound beside the herb racks while the second guard brought the knife out from beneath Ren’s cart with tongs. Yan sat on a low crate with a folded cloth pressed against the cut on his upper arm. Blood seeped through the first layer and stained his sleeve.
Pei asked, “Who attacked first?”
He kept the second guard beside Ma and had Ren stand where he had been when the argument began. The porters who had arrived at the end of the fight waited by the lane entrance. Pei wanted the first account before anyone moved the cart or gathered the herbs.
“Ma drew the knife,” Ren said. “He blocked Yan’s path and reached for his belt before anyone moved.”
Ma tried to twist free. His sleeve caught on a drying pole, and he jerked against the binding. Yan stepped aside instead of using another technique. Pei tightened the hold and warned him that another lunge would add an assault charge.
“I was checking an order from Zhao,” Ma said.
“Show me the order,” Pei replied.
Ma had none. The folded scrap he had shown Yan remained in his sleeve. Pei asked Ma whether the paper carried a stamp or signature.
“It was a crew order,” Ma said.
“It has no signature,” Yan said. “He showed me the blank line.”
Pei asked to see the scrap. The second guard removed it from Ma’s sleeve and opened it. It named Ma as responsible for Zhao’s crew but did not authorize a search or a seizure. Pei folded it along the crease and added it to the evidence list.
Pei asked Ren to describe the cart’s position. Ren pointed to where the wheel had stopped and marked the space between the cart and the rack. He showed where Yan had stood and where the knife had fallen.
“The blood began here,” Ren said, pointing to the first drops on the stone. “Ma had the blade out before Yan crossed the aisle.”
Pei looked at the slice in Yan’s sleeve, then at the blade recovered beneath the cart. The cuts began from the outside of the cloth. Ma insisted Yan could have cut himself, but he had no explanation for the knife landing under the cart or Ren’s account of the first movement.
“Keep his hands bound until the infirmary confirms the wound,” Pei told the second guard. “Then we’ll take statements in the office.”
Yan shifted the cloth against his upper arm. His shoulder throbbed under the bruise. Pei asked whether he wanted to file a report.
“Yes. But I need the cut cleaned first so the physician can see it.”
“Agreed. Ma stays in the office while you get treatment.” Pei turned to Ren. “Can you keep the cart out of the aisle?”
“I’ll move it after I show you where it was.” Ren pointed at the wheel position and the scuff in the dust. “I can move it without touching the evidence.”
Pei nodded. “Wait until I mark the wheel and the knife location.” He drew two small chalk marks on the stone, then asked the second guard to write down the time. Only after the positions were recorded did he allow Ren to push the cart back.
The porters had seen parts of the encounter but not the first movement. Pei asked them separately what they had heard. One had heard Ma demand the pill supplier’s name; the other had reached the rack after the knife fell. Pei wrote down exactly which part each had witnessed and left a blank for the later statements. No one was asked to guess what Zhao had ordered.
Ma complained as the guards escorted him toward the yard office. “He used forbidden footwork.”
“Did you see him use it before you drew the knife?” Pei asked.
Ma did not answer.
Yan followed the guard at a measured pace. His arm throbbed, and blood kept seeping into the cloth. He used the footwork form only to keep his steps even without swinging the wounded side. The method’s internal tendon cost had already reversed into strength; the external cut remained open and required treatment. Ren offered to push the cart out of the aisle.
“Thank you,” Yan said. “Keep the herbs from falling.”
Ren stayed behind to move the rack and gather the fallen bundles. He set the dampest herbs aside and opened the work lane for the next shift. Pei accompanied Yan toward the infirmary tent and kept Ma in the yard office until the physician could confirm the wound.
At the gate, Pei asked again, “Do you want the report filed today?”
“Yes. I want to give my account after the cut is cleaned.”
“Then we’ll wait for the physician’s note.” Pei called for a runner to tell the clinic that Yan had a blade wound and needed immediate care.
Yan kept pressure on the upper arm. He could feel blood slide under the cloth when the wound shifted. The shallow slice along his forearm stung, and the shoulder bruise made every step jar against the deeper cut. None of it changed when his tendons strengthened. He was glad he had moved away from Ma’s next strike, but the fight had still left him injured.
The clinic attendant opened the side gate. Pei gave her the short account: Ma had been restrained, the knife recovered with tongs, and a witness had seen the first movement. Yan entered the tent with his arm held close to his body.
The attendant brought a clean bowl and fresh cloth. Yan kept pressure on the wound while Pei spoke with the clinic clerk. He did not try to stretch the arm to see how deep the cut went. Blood had soaked through the first fold, but the cloth still held. The attendant told him to sit and wait for the physician, not to rinse it himself in the yard basin.
Ren appeared at the tent entrance once the cart was parked. “The lane is clear. I set the wet herbs aside and put the dry ones back on the rack.”
“Thank you,” Yan said. “Tell Pei where Ma stood when you saw the knife.”
“I will.” Ren waited outside while the attendant prepared the wash table. Yan stayed seated, holding the cloth in place until the physician arrived. The yard lane was open again, and Ren had the cart turned toward the dry shed. The report would be filed after the wound was treated.