For outsiders, Xianzhou is a place filled with mysteries. And legendary tales about Xianzhou's manufacturing sector are quite widespread.
But the reality is that the Artisanship Commission's industrial assembly line is no different from all those that can be found in any other civilization. The only parts that can be described as mysterious are how incredibly slow the Xianzhou people's metabolisms are and how unusually closed off the commission is with the outside world, thus making some of their customs quite antiquated.
I remember how often I would be left scratching my head at the extreme oddities of Xianzhou customs when I first arrived. I think most outworlders who have lived on Xianzhou before know exactly what I mean. What bewildered us first were, without a doubt, those creations made by the Artisanship Commission.
All I wanted was to buy a portable lighting device that could be used as one of my disaster response gadgets. I walked by all the shelves in the store and still couldn't find what I needed. Any kind of basic flashlight would have been fine. I just wanted a small device with a design that has basically remained the same from the ancient past to our modern age, a device that you can find anywhere and that can emit light in emergencies.
I ultimately found the most "normal" flashlight on Xianzhou with the help of a store clerk.
The Artisanship Commission created this flashlight device in the shape of a fish, with its belly done as an open framework that could emit light. This flashlight could also produce light of adjustable intensity and emit it from different directions. As I grabbed the handle located on the fish's back, questions swirled in my mind. People on Xianzhou seemingly believed that this was a "normal" device for providing illumination. But this product just seemed so intricate and sophisticated to me that I would even call it a work of art... of a flashlight.
Not long after that purchase, I started to collect these "normal" devices that were manufactured by the Artisanship Commission. I would then send what I found to the Intelligentsia Guild for further research. Judging from the feedback I received in their reports, most of the scholars didn't quite understand this custom of making objects overly decorative.
One report in particular left the strongest impression on me. The author wrote, "The craftsmanship of this miniature metallic beast is excellent. It is difficult to imagine how they were able to make a moving module of this precision so small. What draws my attention the most is how this device does not require any internal power source. It merely requires wind power to come to life. However, one thing still remains puzzling to me. What is the purpose of this device? Maybe it has something to do with the bell on the beast's body?"
My poor colleague had been overwhelmed by the lavishness of the Artisanship Commission's brilliant skills. In reality, the author of the report was not far off the mark. This "miniature metallic beast" was indeed meant to serve as a bell. The Xianzhou people use them as doorbells or hang them in their yards as decorative pieces. That's it.
It is clear that the practice of adding ornamental features to ordinary objects (at times the decorative parts were made to a greater degree of precision than the object itself) stems from an antiquated Xianzhou tradition. To us, it seems like an eternity ago when they first left their home planet. But for them, it has been just a few generations ever since they gained immortality.
So, even if these customs from the Old Era have long lost their practical meaning, they can still serve as shared memories, passed down for generations.
The Artisanship Commission in particular values this tradition, which is apparent from their deep interest in a wide variety of ceremonies.
A ceremony would be held for the first product manufactured on a new assembly line. A ceremony would also be held for the final product of an assembly line that is being put out of commission. There is a ceremony for newly opened shops and there is one for old workshops going out of business. The Artisanship Commission perhaps may not have faith in anything other than their own technology, but that does not damper their passion for holding ceremonies.
The Artisanship Commission has a propensity to turn even the most minor objects into breathtakingly wonderful pieces of art. I am therefore convinced that it is necessary for us to research the Artisanship Commission's techniques further for potential long-term benefits.