Yan’s Heaven-Burial Step carried him through the folded corridor and into the command hall. The spatial art reinforced his foundation as he crossed. Wuchen’s brush was already moving again, sending a command toward the south station. Yan struck the desk’s edge with Thousand Fractures, shattering the brush’s lower rest before the stroke could finish.
The cracked wood jumped beneath Wuchen’s hand. He twisted the brush as if it were a short sword and dragged its tip across the floor. Black script sprang from the line, winding around Yan’s ankle and fastening him to the Registry seal.
Yan lowered his center and turned his foot against the binding. It tightened, pulling him toward the floor. He used the Forgetting River Sutra to keep his surface thoughts concealed. The method did not show him what Wuchen would do; it only kept his intention from being read. Yan drew on the release diagrams he had studied and remembered the angle where the written seal joined the stone.
He struck that point with his heel. The script broke apart. He stepped free as Wuchen’s sleeve blade came at his side. The cut opened along Yan’s forearm, shallow but clean. He had not escaped the weapon’s reach. His strengthened foundation did not erase the mark.
