The copper midday whistle shrieked across the Rust Hall courtyards, signaling the mandatory thirty minute maintenance break where all service laborers were required to clear the casting workshops and report to the communal shade pavilions for water rations.
Master Chai marched his squad out of the central fire room, locking the iron service doors behind them and leaning his broad shoulders against the exterior wall to light a bone pipe with a flint spark.
Ye Chen lingered near the rear of the departing column, feigning a sudden stumble over a discarded crate of slag while keeping his weight balanced on his boots.
As the other laborers rounded the stone corner toward the shade trees, Ye Chen slipped silently back into the shadows of the empty auxiliary casting chamber, sliding behind a s
