The timid nun Yíwen opened several source files she had
authored barely a year ago, only to find unrecognizable code
within. After inspecting their revision history she
approached the cubicle of her longtime companion.
“A thousand pardons, Hwídah,” she began, “but it appears
that you have completely rewritten my address-management
service. Why did you find this necessary?”
“The code was uncharacteristically complex and unintuitive,”
answered Hwídah gently. “You created many more interfaces
than necessary, nested value objects inside of other value
objects, defined abstract classes which have only one
concrete implementation, and performed database updates in
two separate transactions where one would have sufficed. I
have simplified the structure.”
Yíwen bowed humbly, gave her thanks, and walked out.
The following morning Hwídah approached the cubicle of her
longtime companion, bearing a beautiful steel contraption.
She dropped it noisily onto Yíwen’s desk.
“I found this waiting for me when I awoke this morning,”
said Hwídah. “Explain.”
“Your old spinning-wheel was uncharacteristically complex
and unintuitive—do you not agree?” asked Yíwen. “You used
many more gears than necessary, placed the fiber basket in a
poor location, padded the stands but not the hand cranks,
and used two separate flywheels where one would have
sufficed. I have simplified the mechanics.”
Hwídah bowed humbly, gave her thanks, and walked out.
She then went straight away to master Yishi-Shing, saying,
“Regrettably, I will not be able to participate in your
clan’s weekly bicycle rides anytime soon.”
