Chapter Five: The Shortest Route, the Loudest Slap

They skimmed the mirror of an oncoming truck and launched from a maintenance ramp onto the compactor's rear. Lin broke the tube open. It contained only scraps. The assistant smiled through the glass. Qi Xia picked up a fragment. Memory flashed beneath her fingers: the originals had been cut and scanned overnight; their pulp was being taken south for destruction. But the fragments remembered the order of every pencil stroke. “The originals are gone,” she said. “But the paper remembers being whole.” Gu watched Lin enter the judging hall empty-handed. “Your six hours are over. Without the originals, you are dis—” “Who said I needed the paper?”