Steward Lu set the inspection tablet on an overturned crate in the Furnace Two yard. A clerk held the paper copy open while Bai stood beside the infirmary list. The day’s noise had thinned to hammering from the outer crew and quiet talk from the injured apprentices.
“Start with the names from the inspection hall,” Lu said. “Read them aloud.”
The clerk began. At each name, someone answered or raised a hand. The first tally reached forty-one. Bai shook his head.
“I counted forty-two in the infirmary line.”
“Then someone is missing,” Lu said.
Qinghe came from the side room, wiping her hands. “No one is missing. The girl Yan freed is here. The four other injured people have all been checked.”
Lu looked at the roster. “We have one more person than the entry list.”
Bai tapped a name near the bottom. “This one is on both the clinic list and the labor crew.”
The clerk leaned in. “That is Mei’s runner. He carried the herb crate before the demonstration.”
“Then why is he written twice?”
“The clinic took him on the morning shift. Furnace Two put him on the afternoon crew.”
Lu held out his hand for the clinic roster. He compared the writing, then struck through one duplicate entry and initialed the change. “Forty-one people entered. Forty-one came out. Four workers needed treatment. Yan’s injuries will be on the separate infirmary report.”
“Make sure the correction stays visible,” Qinghe said. “The two lists have different uses. Don’t erase the first entry; note why it appears twice.”
Lu nodded. He wrote the explanation beneath the crossed-out line and handed the tablet to the clerk. “Copy this for the worker board before the clinic closes. Families shouldn’t have to trade rumors to find out who was hurt.”
Bai folded his arms. “Does the meal come with that written promise?”
“The kitchen runner heard me.”
“Then I want his name on the promise too.”
The clerk laughed. Lu did not, but his expression softened. “I’ll send the runner to confirm how many bowls.”
Elder Zhao Heng arrived from the examination hall. His robe was clean except for a gray smudge at the hem. He looked first at the sealed furnace entrance, then at Yan, who sat on the infirmary bench with his wrist and back dressed.
“Which workers were inside when the beam fell?” Zhao asked.
Lu pointed to the roster. “Everyone on this corrected list. Four workers were injured in the hall. Yan has separate burns and bruises.”
Qinghe listed the cases: two glass cuts, one smoke complaint, and one apprentice bruised by the falling shelf. The girl Yan had freed had been pinned by her robe but had no injury beyond coughing and fright. Qinghe would keep her under observation until the next morning.
Zhao turned to Yan. “How did you lift the beam without collapsing?”
“I used Ashen Marrow first, then Blood Ignition.”
“And the cost?”
“It didn’t leave my channels damaged. The furnace still burned my back and wrist. I struck my shoulder when I fell.”
Qinghe added, “His channels show no harm from the techniques. He has external injuries from heat, falling stone, and the load. Those are real and being treated.”
Zhao watched Yan for a moment. “You activated both methods in a burning hall?”
“I needed the beam up.”
“The body cost should have—”
“It didn’t,” Yan said. He kept his voice plain. “The beam was still heavy. The fire still hurt.”
Zhao’s gaze moved to the bandage at his wrist, then to the soot on his sleeve. “You should have waited for the outer crew.”
“They were checking the wall. The apprentice was beneath the shelf.”
Steward Lu closed the tablet. “He got her out. We can argue about the method after we secure the hall.”
Zhao’s mouth tightened. He looked toward the crowd gathering near the worker board. “Ashfall owes him thanks.”
“Not only him,” Yan said. “Bai moved the apprentices. Qinghe and Nurse Mei ran triage. Fen stayed in the hall until the route was clear. The clerks and workers carried the injured out.”
Bai pointed to himself. “My name can go near the top if the meal is generous.”
“Your name will be on the list,” Lu said. “The kitchen runner will tell you the number of bowls.”
The apprentice Yan had freed came over, holding the torn robe closed at one shoulder. “He lifted the shelf. Bai pulled me out.”
The clerk wrote both names beneath the rescue crew. Yan watched him include Qinghe, Fen, and the workers who had carried the wounded. The report would not say one person had saved everyone.
Steward Lu sent two workers to seal the Furnace Two doors and another to bring the service crew. The damaged hall would remain closed until the outer wall and furnace casing were inspected. Zhao asked for the batch records, but Lu ordered that the report be copied first.
“Do not rewrite the pressure readings,” Lu said. “Keep the original gauge mark with the report.”
The assistant who had tapped the glass stood at the back of the crowd. He spoke up. “I knew the gauge was unreliable. I thought Zhao had already approved the batch.”
Zhao looked at him. “I said the sound was stable.”
“You said to continue.”
Lu’s clerk wrote that exchange into the report. The assistant went quiet, but did not withdraw it.
“Then the report will include both statements,” Lu said. “The replacement gauge was marked received and not installed. That is a separate question for the storehouse.”
Zhao started to answer, then glanced at the workers gathered around the board. He stopped. “I will provide my statement after I review the batch record.”
“You’ll have a copy,” Lu said. “The original stays with the incident report.”
The kitchen runner arrived with a count of bowls and a promise to send supper to the courtyard. Bai asked whether there would be sweet rice. The runner said there would be rice, broth, greens, and fruit.
“Fruit is acceptable,” Bai said. “I’ll reserve the best bowl for the one who nearly ate the shelf.”
The rescued apprentice looked at Yan. “That would be me?”
“Only if you want it.”
She grinned for the first time since the hall. Lu lifted the tablet and walked toward the worker board to post the corrected count. The ruined furnace remained sealed, but the report named the injured, the rescuers, and the missing gauge replacement. No one had been erased from the day.