Yan reached the desk and saw how Wuchen had arranged the eastern districts. Their names ran together beneath a single source of current. Household shares, station assignments, and commands filled the page in narrow columns. Nowhere did the ledger say which families had agreed or which local engineers had inspected the equipment.
“You call this a connection,” Yan said. He pointed to the release orders gathered beside the page. “The crews kept their neighboring lights on by disconnecting damaged nodes.”
“The ledger keeps the provinces together.”
“It tells you where the power goes. It doesn’t tell you who agreed to carry it.”
Wuchen drove the brush toward a fresh line. Yan caught the shaft with one hand, using Ashen Marrow reinforcement to strengthen his grip. Ink flared against his palm like hot oil. The seal burned externally, not as a cultivation cost. Yan dropped the shaft before the mark could travel up his arm.
Wuchen twisted the brush around and struck at Yan’s injured side. Yan moved away from the blow, letting the end hit the desk. The impact scattered a stack of copied orders. Dalan lunged to keep them from the black script and pulled them behind the pillar.
