Qinghe checked the inner ring’s gauges and handed Yan the sequence card. The stop signal was circled in red. Two readings meant the outer feed had to be cut; one meant she needed him to shift his hands on the rail.
“Call every reading plainly,” Yan said. “Don’t soften it for me.”
“I will.”
He looked from the card to the gauge. “And if the relay gives only part of a message?”
“We wait for a runner’s confirmation. A partial message is not an instruction to begin.”
Qinghe showed him the local release lever Qiao had fitted to the inner rail. It sat within reach from the marked position but did not touch the central coil. If the prepared relay failed, a single lantern pattern from the console would call the stop; a second pattern from the roof post would confirm it.
Yan read each signal back to her. The answer mattered because the pattern was new, not because he needed permission to understand it. Qinghe changed the order and asked him to identify the hand-shift mark first. He did so, then named the outer-feed cut. She nodded and drew a small check beside the two marks.
The Final Offering manuscript lay open on the table. Yan reviewed the sequence once, tracing the lines with his finger. It would make him the living point between the old furnace and the developing grid. The art’s personal cost would consume his body, soul, and lifespan. The System would reverse those intrinsic effects…
