Ning returned from the shelters with a list of people who still needed medicine, bedding, or transport. Her clinic network worked, but one wagon had a cracked axle and two families still lacked dry blankets. She placed the list beside the store ledger and asked the workers to check each name against the latest shelter count.
Yan read the addresses. “Should you move to the inner district before the storm?”
Ning looked up from the list. “My people know the outer routes. We’ll keep the clinic stations running.”
“I thought you might be safer—”
“Stop treating my work as a load you can carry away from me.” Her voice stayed quiet, but she met his eyes. “I chose these stations. I know where the families are.”
Yan accepted the correction. “What do you need from me?”
“The last of your portable medicine stock. I’ll sort it against the list. Bai needs a wheelwright for the wagon, and the family route needs a second driver.”
He brought the medicine case. Ning checked each bottle against the names. She kept the fever tincture and sent the other medicines to the river shelter, where a child had a chest infection. One bottle had a cracked stopper; she set it aside rather than count it as usable. A clinic worker signed the transfer sheet and took the case to the river route.
