The Calibration Bay at night was a different world.
Lantern oil smoked in iron sconces, the smell sharp and heavy. Chalk marks scuffed across the floor where earlier sessions had pivoted and failed. The faint drip… drip… drip of cooling water tapped the silence. Every sound carried.
A technician in a leather apron bent over the booking slate, lips moving as he traced names under the lamplight.
Qin Ye laid down the Access Token. The technician lifted it, held it to the lamp, and nodded. "Ledger confirms. One hour, indivisible. Supervised lane." His tone was dry, procedural.
⸻
The supervised lane was an iron block with scales cut into its surface, chalk scuffs haloing its legs. As Qin Ye approached, the engravings on its console lit faintly.
[Daily Sign-In available.]
[Location: Bay Console Engraving.]
[Sign-In? Yes / No]
Yes.
[Ding! Sign-In successful!]
[Reward: Calibration Thread (Lv.1, 20 breaths — amplify micro-sensitivity to balance/edge) + Record Seal (1 use — notarize one bay reading).]
A quiet thread tuned his senses to microscopic shifts. The Record Seal settled into his palm like a latent stamp.
⸻
Procedure: Silent River Test.
The technician performed the sheath check, fingers running the wax seal. "Unbroken." He gestured. "Draw on count. Three. Two. One."
Silent River slid free, its black metal swallowing the lantern glow. Qin Ye laid it across the balance table, the scales faintly quivering.
He triggered the Calibration Thread. The hum of the blade, the tremor in the scales, the pull in his wrist—all magnified. For twenty breaths, he felt the edge not as steel but as weight on the air. A single, hair-thin shim was selected and placed beneath the hilt. The balance stilled.
[Ding! Micro-Goal: "True the Edge."]
[Reward: Edge Memory +1 (situational) + +150,000 Spirit Stones.]
His body remembered the alignment. His wrist knew the angle.
⸻
Attempted Squeeze.
Boots echoed at the bay's entrance. A senior candidate entered, voice smooth with entitlement. "Running late. Perhaps his session can be shortened?"
The technician shifted uneasily, glancing at the slate. "We could—"
Qin Ye's voice cut across. "Clause 11.7. Time blocks are indivisible once commenced." He pressed his palm to the console and willed the Record Seal. The readout glowed, locked by notarization.
The technician stared at the sealed mark. The senior candidate clicked his tongue, but the hour was Qin Ye's alone. Procedure had already decided.
⸻
Tuning Outcome.
Two more passes, each finer than the last. He tracked edge drift against breath, shimmed, rebalanced. Nothing left tolerance. No over-tuning. At the end, the technician stamped his bay card: Calibrated.
Silent River returned to its sheath with a soft click. Even sealed, its weight was different—precise, remembered.
⸻
Study Pavilion.
The Pavilion's silence was parchment and lamp oil. Qin Ye unrolled a text on Paired Application drills. It spoke of shared rhythms: metronome calls, breath overlays, finger taps as unspoken cues.
He lingered on one sketch—a diagram of cadence exchange via a three-count tap along the thigh. Simple, legal, effective. He committed it whole to memory. His Logistics Memory etched the image clearly, as if stamped.
The librarian's bell chimed the closing. Qin Ye closed the scroll without a sound. The cue was his now.
⸻
Corridor Friction.
The lot box for dawn's pairing sat at the administration desk, lid closed, wax absent. Vulnerable.
Qin Ye approached. "The fairness clause requires all lot boxes sealed publicly before draw. Please apply now and log."
The night clerk blinked, sighed, and reached for wax. The seal pressed down with a hiss, leaving a perfect insignia. A line added to the logbook. Integrity logged.
[Ding! Micro-Goal: "Seal the Box."]
[Reward: +100,000 Spirit Stones; Clerk Favor +1 (total +2).]
The wax cooled smooth. The night held steady.
⸻
Dawn Edge.
The first bell. Lanterns guttered low. Clerks shuffled papers at the desk. Yue Hong entered with his unit, eyes going first to the sealed box, then to Qin Ye. A glance sharpened into recognition.
[Ding! Main Quest updated — Inner Gate Trial: 6 days.]
The circle of wax was unbroken. Qin Ye's breath matched it, a perfect round held for four counts, anchored for four, released on two.
The morning waited.