Wuchen turned the brush in his hand. A pale line of ink reached across the ledger toward Yan’s forehead. It did not strike like a blade. It sought the surface of his next intention, trying to learn which way he would move before he moved.
Yan drew on the Forgetting River Sutra. The technique let him conceal the thought he held closest. It did not tell him the brush was coming, and it could not shield his skin. He kept his intention quiet: pull the ledger toward the outer edge, expose the page beneath the command sheet, then let go before the seal trapped his fingers.
The brush tip touched the paper. Yan moved. His fingers caught the spine and he hauled the ledger sideways. Copper pressure clamped down on his hand. Pain lanced through the nail of his first finger. He held the book long enough to lift the command sheet, saw the page beneath, then released before the seal could lock his wrist.
The opened page was a list of former furnace operators. Names filled the first column. The second marked lifespans as spent. A third listed districts whose residents had supplied the old barrier. They were not faceless units. Yan recognized two family names from the island accounts and one from the winter household roll.
