Bai had expected the south neighborhood council to approve the third site that morning. The first two communities had already chosen their anchor locations, and the material carts were being loaded in the capital. Instead, the council placed the proposed drawing beside its market well and asked the team to wait.
Their engineer, Sora, had spent the previous day reviewing the valve records. She came to the council carrying the neighborhood’s own barrier maps, old but carefully kept. She greeted Qinghe, then turned to the plan without sitting.
“The pylon is here,” she said, touching the paper beside the well. “The water path narrows at this corner. On market day, people queue from the pump to the south wall. Your switch would be behind them.”
Qiao Wen spread the station drawing flat. “The conduit can reach another site. We should measure it before promising.”
Sora led them through the neighborhood. The well stood under a tiled awning. A long line of jars rested against the wall, waiting for people to fill them. Beyond it, the stone workshop had a cleared yard and a narrow lane leading back to the old barrier.
“If you move the pylon beside the workshop, the keepers can reach the switch without blocking the water,” Sora said. “But the lane belongs to the workshop. We would need the owner’s agreement.”
