The sky had not yet lightened.
Helian Xiang sat in the pivot chamber, calling up the Northern waveform——inhale, depression, exhale.
Then calling up the City West soldiers' waveform——inhale, straight line, exhale.
Switched back. Pause.
He switched again. Pause.
He called up yesterday's archive.
Comparison.
Values completely consistent.
He stared at the two lines.
His fingertip pressed against the ice mirror's edge. That indentation was still there.
He no longer looked at the waveform. He just let his fingertip stay there.
The indentation hadn't disappeared.
He did not look at it again.
Outside the window, the sky brightened a little.
Morning.
Lu Wanning walked to the back gate of the Imperial Medical Academy.
The gate was ajar.
She pushed it open, went down.
Halfway down, she stopped.
She didn't know how many steps she had taken.
The iron door was half open. A light was on inside.
The sound of paper turning. Footsteps. Someone speaking in low tones.
She did not enter.
How long she stood there, she didn't know.
When she turned, she touched her robe pocket.
That note was still there.
She did not look back.
Afternoon.
Sun Jiu sat on the bed's edge, pressing his left knee.
The pain was still there.
Chen Si looked at his right hand, did not bend it.
That ring finger had swollen less. It could bend now. But he did not bend it.
Lu Wanning came back from outside, sat down, said nothing.
He Sanshi spread the map, then folded it again.
Shen Yuzhu held the brass key, the Mirror-Sigil not warm.
Chu Hongying leaned against the window, did not turn.
No one spoke.
Dusk.
The light outside the window dimmed.
Sun Jiu rose, walked to the door, checked the bolt. He pulled it, then pushed it.
He Sanshi watched him finish, then placed the map into his robe.
Chen Si moved the fingers of his right hand——that ring finger, bent halfway, stopped.
His heart had not slowed.
Night.
Sun Jiu turned over. The bedboard creaked.
Chen Si's breath paused for an instant, then continued.
Lu Wanning opened her eyes, looking at the ceiling beam.
He Sanshi did not move.
After the bedboard creaked.
Breath settled.
Pause.
He Sanshi's voice, very soft:
"...Continue."
No one answered.
Breath began again.
In the same night.
The North. East Three Sentry.
Bo Zhong sat on the wooden stump. His right hand pressed against the dark boundary.
The ice crystal flower in the moonlight.
Six petals fully formed. The seventh petal still a blurred outline.
He lowered his head to look at it.
That glance was brief.
Then he continued pressing.
Did not look again.
In the same night.
[CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED AND FIFTY-EIGHT END]