After breakfast, Qinghe checked that no grit remained where Yan had healed the brace cut. His ribs no longer hurt, and he could lift his shoulder freely. Returning Spring Palm had repaired the external wounds after he left the ring; the Offering had strengthened him without treating them.
A clinic worker was carrying used dressings from the treatment room. Yan took half the bundle from her and carried it to the wash basket. She looked at his clean sleeves. “You’re allowed to sit.”
“I know.” He set the bundle down. “The basket was closer.”
Ning arrived from the shelter network with a list of medicine needs and a pot of tea. The eastern school had enough blankets for the night. The hill clinic needed bandages and clean water. Bai had sent a cart, but it was delayed at the north road closure.
“Send a smaller pack on foot,” Ning said. “The road is still closed to carts.”
She assigned a runner and checked the medicine boxes herself. Yan lifted the smaller pack to hand it over. Qinghe told him the brace crew had sent no request for help at the wall. He looked toward the door, then back at the clinic list.
