Gu carried the reflective bowls to the platform one at a time. Each was polished inside, with a narrow rim that caught the light from a spirit stone. He placed them around Yan’s position, then stepped back to check how the reflections crossed.
“They should show the soul’s movement without being mistaken for the storm,” he said. “The bowls read your cultivation. They don’t shield the platform.”
Qinghe compared each reflection with the sensor reading from the safety line. She wanted the bowls visible from where she stood, not so close to the platform that someone would need to cross the marked boundary to read them. Gu adjusted two bowls by a finger’s width.
The readings aligned. Yan leaned over one bowl and saw a narrow glimmer moving beneath the surface. He smiled at the odd sight of his own soul’s trace appearing in a basin of light.
“Will the reflection change as the current moves?” he asked.
“That is why we placed them,” Gu said. “We’ll compare each stage with the baseline.”
Qiao Wen checked the grounding rods and their separate discharge line. He wore gloves while tightening the clamp on the east rod. The metal slipped in his hand. He stopped and replaced the clamp rather than forcing it shut.
