Just as Chen Hao put the last manual into the shelf, he heard a shout coming from the direction of the repair station. Without looking up, he twirled the magnetic clip in his hand, and it clicked shut on the corner of the paper. The sound from the other end of the corridor grew louder, like two people fighting over something.

Nana's voice came through the earpiece: "There's a conflict at the resource application station. The two are fighting over the right to use the third parts compartment."

"who?"

"Zhang Qiang and Li Mao."

Chen Hao sighed. He knew these two well. Zhang Qiang was a seasoned veteran in the maintenance team, efficient but hot-tempered; Li Mao was a newly transferred technician, quiet and single-minded. If the two clashed, they were bound to explode sooner or later.

He strode off that way, casually tugging at his collar. His neck was still stiff from standing for three hours yesterday explaining the rules. As he rounded the turnstile in the ecological zone, he saw Susan squatting by the wall putting up a new poster. It depicted a worker holding a points card, beaming from ear to ear. She glanced up at Chen Hao, said nothing, and nodded.

The sounds of arguing grew closer.

Five or six people had gathered at the entrance of the resource application station, but no one went forward to dissuade them; they all just watched the spectacle with their arms crossed. Inside the glass hatch, Zhang Qiang and Li Mao stood between two piles of parts. Zhang Qiang clutched an application form in his hand, his face flushed red; Li Mao stood in front of the control panel, his finger pressed firmly on the confirmation button.

"I submitted my application first!" Zhang Qiang said loudly. "The system recorded it at 10 pm last night!"

“The mission levels are different.” Li Mao’s voice was not loud, but his words were clear. “Mine is an emergency repair, which is a level three priority. Yours is just a routine replacement, which doesn’t rank high.”

"You consider a broken light bulb an emergency?"

"The lighting system malfunction affected the night patrol route, which is in accordance with Article 12 of the regulations."

Chen Hao squeezed through the crowd and stood between the two. He didn't look at them, but glanced at the screen first. The system records did show that Zhang Qiang submitted his task earlier, but Li Mao's task was marked with a red warning icon.

"You two seem to know the rules pretty well," he said.

The two of them turned to him at the same time.

“Then let me ask you something,” Chen Hao said, “do you all want to use spare parts to fix things?”

Zhang Qiang was taken aback: "Nonsense."

"And what about you?" Chen Hao asked Li Mao.

"yes."

"Okay." Chen Hao reached out and took both of their application forms, tore them up, and said, "No one can take them now."

Someone in the crowd gasped.

“Rules aren’t for arguing,” he said. “They’re for using. One of you says it’s earlier, and the other says it’s higher level; arguing won’t change anything. The system won’t decide who’s right and who’s wrong on its own; that has to be decided by people.”

"Then you decide!" Zhang Qiang shouted. "You decide!"

"I'm not sure." Chen Hao threw the shredded paper into the recycling bin. "This matter can't be decided by me alone. There will be a public hearing tomorrow morning at nine o'clock. Please have Lao Zhou preside over it."

"Which Old Zhou?"

"That retired engineer used to repair the power modules."

"He hasn't shown his face for six months!"

“But he’s still on the base’s list,” Chen Hao said. “And he never participates in factions, doesn’t take up resources, and even donates his points to the public pool. If you don’t believe me, you can try believing someone who never seeks personal gain.”

No one responded.

Li Mao finally removed his hand from the confirmation button. Zhang Qiang looked down at his empty hand, then looked up at Chen Hao and glared: "Now that I don't have any parts, who's responsible if the equipment stops working?"

“You’re in charge,” Chen Hao said. “You chose to make a scene instead of communicating first. The parts won’t run away, but if the rules are broken, nobody can work in peace anymore.”

He turned to the onlookers and said, "Everyone, disperse. Tomorrow at nine o'clock, anyone who wants to listen can come. The entire hearing will be recorded, and you can watch the replay by scanning the QR code."

The crowd slowly dispersed. Some shook their heads, some whispered among themselves, and others pulled out their devices to check Lao Zhou's information.

Nana walked over, holding a tablet. "The monitoring team has been notified to save all video recordings from today's application stations. Audio recordings will also be archived simultaneously."

"Did you send it to the group?"

"It's been sent. The title is 'Notice Regarding Tomorrow's Hearing'."

Chen Hao nodded and walked to the control panel, sitting down. The metal surface was cold; he pressed his palms against it, rubbing his temples. Only then did he realize his back was completely soaked. That shout just now almost made him cry out his lungs.

Susan came in from outside, carrying a water bottle. "I went to Old Zhou's place. The door was open, but he wasn't there. He left a note saying he was going to the greenhouse to prune."

“He loves doing this,” Chen Hao said. “Every spring he goes to cut those tomato plants.”

“I’ll go to the greenhouse to find him,” Susan said. “And I’ll ask if he’d be willing to come forward.”

"Don't say it was me who said it." Chen Hao looked up. "Just say that everyone wants to hear his opinion."

Susan nodded and left.

Carl then walked around from the repair station, carrying a testing device. "I checked the system logs. Li Mao's task is indeed a level three priority, but the approval process is stuck at the level two review and hasn't been completed yet. He triggered the claiming procedure ahead of time, which is a violation of regulations."

Where is Zhang Qiang?

"His application was fine, the timeframe was compliant, and he had enough points. But at 8:23 this morning, he posted a message on the public channel saying, 'Whoever dares to touch my parts, I'll teach them a lesson.' This constitutes threatening remarks."

Chen Hao grinned: "Neither of them are clean."

Should we log this in the exception log?

“Don’t record it yet,” Chen Hao said. “We’ll deal with it after the hearing. Recording it now would be forcing them to band together against us.”

Carl placed the testing equipment on the table: "Do you really think Old Zhou can handle things?"

“I don’t know,” Chen Hao said, “but I have to try. Punishment alone won’t work. If you punish too much, people will feel like you’re targeting them. We need someone who’s not afraid of anyone and doesn’t want anything in return to speak up. Otherwise, these rules won’t stand up.”

Carl was silent for a moment, then said, "I made a copy of the surveillance footage and backed it up in offline storage."

"clever."

"Just in case," Carl said, "in case someone deletes the record afterward."

Chen Hao glanced at him and said, "You're starting to look more and more like Nana."

"Someone has to think one step ahead."

Nana then interjected: "An independent data channel has been established. All hearing-related materials will be encrypted and uploaded to the backup server in real time. Access is limited to the four-person group only."

Chen Hao chuckled: "We're acting like we're in court right now."

"Pretty much," Carl said. "Rule enforcement is, in essence, a continuous trial."

Chen Hao stood up and stretched his limbs. His knees were a little sore from standing for so long. He walked to the bulletin board and noticed that the newly posted hearing notice was already frayed at the edges. He checked his pockets; they were empty. He'd used up all six clips he'd changed yesterday.

"Nana, can I borrow the clip on your shoulder?"

The robot turned slightly to the side, and a silver clip automatically popped out from its left shoulder. Chen Hao took it and placed it on the paper.

"You even brought your own office supplies?"

"The design took into account the needs of field operations," Nana said. "It is equipped with seven tactical fixing clips, which are waterproof and rustproof."

"Put one in for me next time too." Chen Hao patted his pocket. "So I don't have to run around like crazy every day."

He returned to the control panel and opened his terminal. Dozens of messages popped up on the screen. Some asked if they could take leave from the hearing, some said they also wanted to sue others, and others suggested that all future disputes should be handled this way.

He didn't reply to a single message.

Susan returned half an hour later, standing at the door, panting. "Found it. Old Zhou is in the greenhouse, squatting down to build trellises for the chili peppers. I brought up the hearing, and he didn't refuse, only saying, 'Nine o'clock tomorrow, I won't be late.'"

"Didn't he ask who was arguing?"

“He didn’t ask,” Susan said. “He just said, ‘Here we go again.’”

Chen Hao smiled.

As the night lights came on, the four of them gathered around the control panel. Nana pulled up the draft of tomorrow's workflow, Susan organized the promotional materials, and Carl checked the equipment status. Chen Hao sat in the middle, twirling a pen in his hand.

“Actually,” he said, “I always thought the hardest thing was getting people to know the rules. Then I realized that getting people to accept the rules was the hardest thing. Now I know that the hardest thing is—knowing the rules but pretending not to see them.”

No one responded.

He put down his pen. "Tomorrow isn't about deciding who wins or loses. It's about showing everyone—if someone is dissatisfied, there are ways to deal with it. These rules weren't set by me, Chen Hao, nor were they pushed by Nana's system. We all agreed to them together."

He stood up, walked to the door, and glanced back. "Is everything ready?"

The three nodded.

He opened the door, and a gust of wind from the hallway rushed in, rustling the papers on the table. Nana reached out and pressed down on a document, and the optical module flashed.

Chen Hao took a few steps, then stopped.

“Oh, right,” he said, “anyone who’s late tomorrow should stand at the back.”