Yang Ruoqian feared patterns.
One complaint was a mood.
Two complaints were coincidence.
Three complaints were a meeting.
Four complaints became a pattern.
Patterns were dangerous because they pretended to be humble.
They did not shout.
They did not demand payment.
They simply stood there and said:
This happened before.
Those four words could ruin a beautiful amount of repeated labor.
After yesterday's noise had been compressed into same causes, Yang saw the next disaster clearly.
A board.
Someone would gather cause marks.
Someone would count them.
Someone would ask why the same issue returned.
Then yesterday would attack tomorrow.
He could not allow it.
At nine, Yang entered the support room himself.
Direct inspection looked strict.
Strictness could create fear.
Fear could create mistakes.
Mistakes could create cost.
Unfortunately, the creator support team greeted him with clean desks.
Clean desks were a bad omen.
"No complaint pattern board," Yang said.
