Chapter 259: The Benevolence of the Procedure

The invitation to the Seed Court preparatory meeting arrived at dawn. A pure white data stream unfolded in the center of Bridge Space, displaying terms so precise they felt icy:

"According to Article 7 of the Intercivilizational Dispute Mediation Basic Law, the Seed Court's first session will convene in 72 hours. inaugural case: the 'Carefree Seed' aesthetic‑ethics review. Plaintiff: Earth civilization and its allies. Defendant: the Thirteenth Civilization Conservative 'Pure Guardians.' The bench will consist of seven 'Unbiased Scars' serving as judges."

The final line in tiny print left everyone stunned:

"Definition of 'Unbiased Scar': its source of pain must have no direct connection to any party in the case. Applicants for a judgeship must submit scar‑verification materials, deadline: 24 hours later."

Su Yu was the first to react: "They built a trap into the procedure. Our scars—Han Qing's comes from Chen Mo's clash with the conservatives, Old Zhao's from his son's disappearance, Xiao Yu's from bearing network overload—are all linked to the case. We have no 'Unbiased' scar that could qualify us as judges!"

Kaiwen quickly queried the Basic Law: "The clause is real. But it was drafted three thousand years ago, when no one anticipated a situation where the scar‑bearer becomes a party to the case."

"So they can legally sideline us," Aili said, gripping the medical kit. "Without a judgeship, we can only sit in the gallery—and even the right to speak must be applied for."

The kitchen fell silent. Only the kettle's hissing, half‑boiled, filled the air.

Old Zhao suddenly stood, walked to the bottom shelf of the tea cabinet, and pulled out a metal box. Opening it, there were no tea leaves but a palm‑sized notebook, its cover embroidered with plum blossoms—now faded.

"My wife left this," he whispered, turning to a page. "She was a community mediator. Whenever a dispute arose, she would first read the Mediation Code. I asked why, and she said—"

He read the notebook's script, delicate yet forceful:

"Rules aren't meant to trap people; they're meant to trap emotions. Once emotions are trapped, reason can slowly emerge."

He looked at Han Qing: "We're stuck now. But it's not just us—the conservatives must follow the same rule. They can trap us; can we… find a loophole in the rule?"

Han Qing took the notebook, his finger brushing the line. Memory lag made comprehension slow, but that slowness let him notice a detail: "'Scar‑verification materials'… didn't specify whether they must be 'original scars' or 'scar derivatives.'"

Xiao Yu's Light Imprint immediately scanned the entire Basic Law: "Indeed! The clause only requires a 'carrier that can prove the authenticity of the pain,' without restricting its form!"

Su Yu's eyes lit up: "So if we create a new 'scar carrier'—something unrelated to this case yet capable of representing the 'essence of pain'…"

"…we could apply for a judgeship." Han Qing nodded, then frowned, "But with only twenty‑four hours, where can we find a brand‑new, sufficiently weighty scar?"

Outside, dawn filtered through GuiHuaYuan's frequency barrier, casting mottled light and shadow over the ruins. The edges of those shadows were blurred like unhealed wounds.

Just as the team wrestled with ideas, the communication panel in Bridge Space flickered on by itself—not from any known civilization, but a primitive, stele‑like frequency.

Xiao Yu's Light Imprint flashed wildly: "This is… a Cosmic Memory Archive automatic protocol response! Because our earlier 'real‑frame‑rate' advertisement was recorded as a Civilization Authenticity Template, it triggered the archive's Civilization Continuance Assistance Clause!"

The holographic display unfolded: a light‑composed archivist avatar (not a person, but an automated program) spoke in a steady synthetic voice:

"A civilization meeting the criteria is facing a procedural dilemma. According to Article 3 of the Cosmic Memory Archive Assistance Regulations: 'When a civilization's authenticity record makes a significant contribution to this archive, the archive may provide a single procedural assistance.'"

The avatar displayed a list:

"Available assistance options:

1. Provide an 'Unrelated Scar Sample'—sourced from a civilization that has completely vanished and has no causal link to any existing civilization.

2. Provide a 'Procedural Vulnerability Analysis Report'—targeting the historical amendment records and potential contradictions of Article 7 of the Basic Law.

3. Provide a 'Court Behavior Prediction Model'—derived from data extrapolation of four thousand similar historical cases.

Please choose within three minutes."

The team had no time to deliberate. Han Qing said outright: "We choose the first option. We need the scar itself, not just a weapon."

The avatar nodded, and the light coalesced into a transparent crystal shard, landing in Han Qing's palm.

"The 'Silent Weaver' civilization's final relic: the civilization self‑annihilated due to an obsessive pursuit of 'perfect silence.' The relic consists of an unfinished braid, halted midway because the weaver realized that 'completion would end the silence.' This civilization has no recorded ties to any existing civilization. Certification level: AAA‑grade pure scar."

The crystal shard was faintly warm in his palm. Han Qing could "feel" the memory: a civilization that loved silence so much that it vanished within it, leaving no farewell sound.

The certification will take place in the 'Civilization Heritage Notary Hall' aboard the Silent Observer mothership. The conservative side is represented by three silver‑gray Light Spheres, their surfaces smooth as mirrors, showing no emotional fluctuation. Earth's side has only Han Qing and Su Yu present—because the rules limit each side to at most two people.

The notary is a neutral mechanical civilization entity, its body composed of precise gears, voice ticking like a clock: "Plaintiff, please present the scar carrier."

Han Qing produced the crystal shard. The gear notary touched it with a slender probe, reading the data. Ten seconds later, it announced: "Carrier is authentic and valid. The 'Silent Weaver' civilization vanished 7,300 years ago, with no causal chain linking it to any party in this case. It meets the 'Unbiased' definition."

The conservative Light Spheres' surfaces rippled for the first time—like water disturbed by a stone. The central sphere (designated 'Pure Guardian‑3') emitted a cold frequency: "But the carrier was supplied by the Cosmic Memory Archive. Does that count as a 'third‑party intervention'?"

The gear notary retrieved the clause: "Article 9 of the Basic Law supplementary note: 'The Cosmic Memory Archive, as a neutral repository, provides certification materials with the highest authority.'" No objection.

"Pure Guardian‑3" was silent for three seconds, then said: "We request a 'pain purity test' on the carrier. According to the annex of Article 7, scars must not contain tendencies of 'self‑glorification' or 'moral superiority.'"

This is another trap: if the 'Silent Weaver's' scar is interpreted as 'sacrificed for a lofty ideal,' it could be judged as 'moral superiority,' forfeiting neutrality.

Su Yu gently tapped Han Qing's hand under the table. Han Qing nodded and told the notary: "We agree to the test. However, the testing process must be publicly transparent and employ the standard 'Pain Spectrum Analysis Method' from the Basic Law appendix— the only neutral method recognized by all civilizations."

He recited the exact clause number. Kaiwen had briefed him urgently on the way here—memory lag made memorization hard, yet each term landed heavily in its proper place.

The color of the 'Pure Guardian‑3' Light Sphere dimmed slightly.

The test began. The gear notary placed the crystal shard into the analyzer, and the holographic screen began scrolling the final moments of the 'Silent Weaver':

All members of that civilization ceased vocalizing, recording time by weaving hair. The last weaver was a mother braiding her daughter's hair. Halfway through, the daughter looked up and asked, "When it's finished, what then?"

The mother froze. She realized: finishing the braid meant completion. Completion would require moving to the next action, breaking the silence. But their civilization had sworn to remain silent forever.

So she stopped there. Her hand hovered over the braid, the loose end dangling. The daughter also watched silently.

The entire civilization thus quietly observed the unfinished braid until the last individual ceased thinking.

It was not a tragic sacrifice, nor a noble choice.

It was simply stuck.

Because they loved a certain state so much that they dared not complete it, dared not continue, dared not choose. In the end they remained forever stuck in the "almost."

The test results came back: the pain spectrum showed that this relic contained 0% 'moral superiority,' 0% 'self‑glorification,' and 99.7% 'pure dilemma.'

The gear notary announced: "Certification passed. Earth civilization gains one judgeship. Please designate a judge within 72 hours."

Leaving the notary hall, the 'Pure Guardian‑3' Light Sphere floated before Han Qing, its frequency showing, for the first time, a ripple resembling 'confusion':

"Why did you choose this sample? It demonstrates 'destruction due to perfectionism,' which doesn't fully support your 'against perfection' argument."

Han Qing looked at his reflection on the sphere's surface and whispered:

"Because its scar contains no 'I'm not wrong.' Only 'I'm stuck, I don't know what to do.' And the court needs judges… who shouldn't be people who think they're always right."

He paused; memory lag made the next sentence arrive slowly but heavily:

"It should be someone who knows what it feels like to be stuck."

Back on Earth, a new question arose: who will serve as that judge?

The team gathered around the tea table, silent. Old Zhao's tea went cold then hot, hot then cold.

Su Yu spoke first: "I'll go. I'm good at compromising, and also good at finding flexibility within the rules."

"But you're Han Qing's partner." Xiao Yu shook her head. "The rules don't forbid it, but it's easy to be accused of bias."

Aili said: "Then I'll go. I'm a doctor; I've witnessed all kinds of pain, so theoretically I'm the most neutral."

"But you've saved all of our lives." Kaiwen pushed up his glasses. "The 'debt of gratitude' connection could be amplified."

Old Zhao poured seven cups of tea, pushing them over one by one: "Stop arguing. I'll go."

Everyone looked at him.

"My son's matter has nothing to do with the case. My wife's mediation experience let me understand the rules. Most importantly—" he picked up his own cup of tea, took a sip, "I'm an ordinary person. Ordinary people know best that sometimes 'correct' and 'being able to survive' are two different things. The court isn't supposed to judge truth, but how to let everyone still be able to go on."

Han Qing looked at Old Zhao; the black cracks on his chest warmed slightly—this was the sensation of a new change. The ninth fruit was forming, its color like tea-amber, its shape like a……weight?

"Old Zhao will go." Han Qing finally said, "But there's a condition: we won't be your 'support team'. The judge must be independent. We'll only do one thing—"

He looked out the window; there was GuiHuaYuan, the awakened ones, the silent observers, all the civilizations watching this trial:

"—broadcast to the whole universe, showing how an ordinary person can find 'goodwill' in the cracks of the rules."

Just then, Xiao Yu's light-seal alarm went off:

"The conservatives just submitted a second motion! They demand the court add a 'spectator jury'—composed of representatives of civilizations that have bought the 'Worry-Free Seed'! Their reasoning: 'Consumers have the right to participate in deciding a product's ethical fate'!"

On the holographic screen, 173 civilizations have already registered.

And there are still seventy-one hours until the court convenes.

Old Zhao picked up his wife's mediation notebook, flipped to the last page. There was only one line of writing, the ink faded to near invisibility:

"All rules were originally meant to protect the person most likely to be bullied. Don't forget."

He closed the notebook and gently placed it in the center of the tea mat.

Then he began practicing how, seventy-two hours later, sitting in the judge's seat, to give that faded sentence weight again.