The first thing Chen Hao did after waking up in the morning wasn't brushing his teeth or eating. He rolled over, pulled a piece of paper from under the bed, and checked it against the rules and regulations on the wall, one by one.

The paper was crumpled, its edges curled up, and it was held firmly to the bulletin board by magnetic clips. The wind blew all night, and one corner still curled up. He stared at the sign that "Resource applications must be queued with points" for three seconds, sighed, and stuffed the paper back under the bed.

He casually checked his pocket as he left to make sure the magnetic clip was still there. This thing had become an essential part of his wardrobe, even more important than his keys.

Two people in protective suits were standing at the entrance of the ecological zone, about to walk in. The access control system didn't beep, and the record wasn't automatically entered. Chen Hao walked over and patted them on the shoulder.

"Scan the QR code to register first."

The man turned around, startled. "Huh? You want this now?"

"It was posted on the wall yesterday," Chen Hao said, pointing to the bulletin board next to him. "It's the first one."

"Oh, I was working overtime last night and didn't notice." The man quickly took out his terminal to re-enter the information, and his colleague followed suit.

After the two went inside, Chen Hao stood at the door for a couple more minutes. He knew they weren't doing it on purpose, just like how he himself had forgotten to hand in his homework before—it was never because he didn't want to do it, but because he simply didn't remember it.

He turned and walked toward the repair station.

On the way, I ran into Susan, who was holding a stack of colored printing paper with simple drawings of little people on it. One person was queuing up to print, and another was being reminded by Nana that points were being deducted.

“Let’s do this,” she said. “Nobody reads long texts, but pictures can spread faster.”

Chen Hao nodded. "Where are you going to stick it?"

“At the entrance of the cafeteria, next to the toilets, and outside the shower rooms.” She paused. “People are most likely to remember things when they are most relaxed.”

“That makes sense,” he said. “I’ll go there to give presentations too.”

"Okay." She glanced at her watch. "It'll be crowded during breakfast time."

When Chen Hao arrived at the repair shop, he heard people talking loudly inside.

Carl stood in front of the 3D printing cabin, arms outstretched, blocking the control panel. An engineer held up design drawings, his face flushed red.

"This task is due tomorrow! The approval process will take two hours!"

“The rules are written down; in emergencies, you can use the filing process,” Carl said. “It’s not that you can skip it.”

"You have to fill out a form and get the duty roster's signature to register. What's the difference between that and an approval process?"

“The difference is that you can start work first, but you have to complete the paperwork immediately.” Carl pointed to the wall. “Do you see the first clause?”

"Who's going to be watching the walls all day?" the engineer said, waving his hand dismissively. "It's not like it's a school rulebook."

Chen Hao walked over and placed the folder in his hand on the table with a muffled thud.

“I’m the administrator,” he said. “I’m granting you emergency access now, but the device will be suspended until you submit a complete request.”

"You're choking me!"

“I’m not holding you back.” Chen Hao opened the hatch and took out the unfinished parts. “I’m just telling you that the rules aren’t just for show, but don’t ignore them either. If you’re really in a hurry, follow the procedures, and I’ll expedite your review.”

The engineer, panting, finally took the form and sat down in the corner to fill it out.

Chen Hao asked Nana to write down the incident and mark it as "non-malicious violation".

As he walked out of the repair shop, he asked Nana, "How many people read the electronic version of the rules yesterday?"

“Of the 427 people, 173 opened the document,” Nana replied. “The average time spent on it was 41 seconds.”

"In other words, most people didn't even finish reading the first point."

"The data supports this conclusion."

“We held meetings for three days and wrote seventeen points, but everyone only looked at them for forty-one seconds.”

“Human attention spans are generally shorter than those required for formal reading,” Nana said, “especially when it comes to self-discipline content.”

Chen Hao chuckled. "You seem to understand human nature quite well."

"I'm just reciting the database contents."

“The problem isn’t in the database.” He looked up at the bulletin board at the end of the corridor. “The problem is, we thought that posting it out was the same as communicating it. But nobody actually reads it.”

He was summarizing the situation in his office at noon.

Susan arrived and laid out several diagram cards. "I made a test version, using colors to distinguish different areas of rules. Green is allowed, yellow is restricted, and red is prohibited."

"Like a traffic light."

"Yes. I also added icons, such as a sleeping person to represent a work schedule, and a smoking machine to represent a high-risk operation."

“Not bad.” Chen Hao picked it up and looked at it. “Much easier to understand than written text.”

“But I’ve noticed a problem,” she said. “When some people see the rules, their first reaction isn’t to follow them, but to look for loopholes.”

"for example?"

"For example, someone asked: 'If I repair equipment myself without using system points, is that considered a violation?'"

"Yes," Chen Hao said. "All resource allocations must be registered; otherwise, how can we ensure fairness?"

“But they think this is ‘exploiting a loophole’ rather than ‘breaking the rules’.”

Chen Hao threw his pen on the table. "So the problem isn't that the rules aren't strict enough, it's that nobody believes we'll enforce them."

“Not only do they not believe it,” Nana interjected. “Monitoring data shows that three people received system warnings today and then said in a private chat channel, ‘Anyway, they won’t really be punished.’”

“A typical mindset,” Susan said. “Test the waters first, then decide how much to comply.”

“Then let them know that we’re serious.” Chen Hao opened his logbook. “But we can’t start by making examples; we have to teach them first.”

How to teach?

"I'll go over it in the cafeteria tomorrow at breakfast time," he said. "Each rule will be accompanied by a real-life example, so whoever understands it will make fewer mistakes."

"Are you going to stand on a chair to talk?"

“If necessary,” he grinned, “at worst, I’ll fall down; at least it’ll be memorable.”

In the evening, as he passed by the lounge, he heard two support staff members chatting on the sofa.

"Nana reminded me again today that I'm not sorting the trash correctly," one person complained. "I told her I'm not a cleaner, why should I care so much?"

"Were your points deducted?"

"No, it's just a notification. I said we have enough to eat and stay in anyway, so what's a couple less?"

"I heard that someone went into the energy cabin without permission, and nothing happened."

"real?"

“I saw it with my own eyes. At 11 p.m., the door opened, and someone went in and came out ten minutes later. Nothing happened.”

Chen Hao left quietly without saying a word.

Back in his office, he pulled up the energy module access control records, found that time period, and entered the identification number. The system showed it was researcher Li Wei.

He then checked Li Wei's past records. The exploration log had been submitted late five times, each marked as "notified" with no further action taken. Device usage timed out three times, but no points were deducted from any of them.

This is not an accidental violation; it has become a habit.

He circled the name and wrote "pay close attention".

Then I opened a new document with the title: Presentation Outline.

The first rule states: Why rules are not meant to scare people, but to protect everyone.

Article 2: The reason why the cost of violating the rules is not high is because we haven't started to calculate the costs yet.

Article 3: Tomorrow at 8 o'clock, in the cafeteria, I will explain clearly what can and cannot be done, and what the consequences will be if they are done.

He put down his pen, got up, and walked to the window.

The paper on the bulletin board was blown up by the wind again, this time with both edges curled up. He walked over, took out all the remaining magnetic clips, and pressed them onto the paper one by one.

When I touched the paper, it felt a little damp. It rained last night, and the wall was a bit wet; the paper would tear if it stayed on for too long.

He thought for a moment, went back to his office to get some transparent tape, and stuck it around the edge.

"Are you planning to keep doing all this with your hands?" Nana asked, standing in the doorway.

“Someone has to do it,” he said. “No one is born knowing the rules; everyone learns them gradually.”

"So how do you plan to deal with those who knowingly commit crimes?"

“Give them a chance first,” he said, sitting back down at the table. “But they only get one chance.”

Susan later messaged me saying she was willing to help organize a Rules comics exhibition in the arts district.

Carl replied, saying that they could put a scrolling screen at the repair shop and broadcast one rule point every day.

Chen Hao read through the messages one by one and replied: "Don't eat breakfast too fast tomorrow, I have something to say."

He arrived at the cafeteria early at 6:30 the next morning.

The table wasn't set up yet; the workers were mopping the floor. He moved a chair to the center and then picked up a loudspeaker to test the volume.

"Hello, hello...can you hear me?"

The sound echoed in the empty cafeteria.

He spread the printed speech on his lap and checked it page by page.

Suddenly remembering something, he tore off another piece of paper and wrote a few words: **The first person to ask a question will be rewarded with five points.**

He stuck the note next to the loudspeaker.

At 7:20, more and more people started to arrive.

He stood up and cleared his throat.

"Everyone, stop for a moment."

Nobody paid him any attention.

He pressed the horn switch.

"Everyone! Today's breakfast includes porridge and steamed buns, and you'll also hear an explanation of the base's latest policies!"

A slight commotion arose in the crowd.

Some people looked up, while others continued eating.

He raised his voice: "I know you find the rules troublesome, and that nobody really cares. But I want to tell you—"

He had just opened his mouth when footsteps came from the doorway.

A figure walked in and headed straight for the energy module.

Chen Hao recognized that it was Li Wei.

He was wearing work clothes, carrying a toolbox, and walking quickly.

“He went in last night,” Nana’s voice came through the earpiece. “His attendance record is normal now, but his route deviates from the usual work area.”

Chen Hao stared at the man's back, then stopped mid-sentence.

He put the loudspeaker down.

"Wait a moment," he said to the people in the cafeteria.

Then he got up and walked towards the door.

As soon as his hand touched the doorknob, Li Wei swiped his card and entered the energy compartment. The moment the door closed, the indicator light turned from red to green.

Chen Hao stood outside the door, gripping the magnetic clip in his hand tightly.