Sect Year 3 · fifth month · day 6 · Azure Stream Sect, the east gate, the same afternoon
The knees locked before he had lowered the cup. Lin saw it begin at the top of Gao Wen’s thighs, a tightening, as though someone had drawn a cord tight under the skin. Then the stiffness ran down through the knees to the heels in one line. Gao Wen’s jaw set. He didn’t drop the cup. He didn’t let go of the pole. He leaned back against the barrel and breathed through his nose, and the grey of his face went a shade paler under the river grit.
Lin was already moving. Pei came off the stair two steps at a time, and between them they took Gao Wen by the coat, one on either side, and held him where he sat. The cup rolled out of his fingers and across the flags. He was heavier than he looked. Under the border cloth his body was as hard as a bar cooled too fast, every muscle pulling against the next.
“The physician writes a fine hand,” Gao Wen said through his teeth. “And a hard cup.”
“Don’t talk,” said Pei.
“Talking is the only part of me that still does what it is told.”
