Yang Ruoqian had learned an important lesson.
Never leave examples together.
Separated examples were harmless.
They slept in files.
They hid in chat logs.
They demanded searching, asking, waiting, and remembering.
This was good.
Searching consumed time.
Asking consumed people.
Waiting consumed patience.
Remembering failed often enough to create meetings.
But if examples gathered in one place, they became a board.
Boards were dangerous.
Boards were how scattered inconvenience became infrastructure.
At nine, Yang entered the meeting room with the thick folder.
The folder made a sound when it hit the table.
It was a proper sound.
A sound with weight.
"No shared review board," he said.
The assistant lead looked at the folder.
Then she looked at him.
"Is this about the hand marks?"
"Yes."
"You do not want them collected?"
"Correct."
"Because collected examples may become informal rules?"
Yang paused.
That sounded like his argument.
