This is the end. Everything has been settled.
Time flows by like water flows over a perfectly flat plain.
Z: Yes. That's right. En, I got it.
Z: I'll reply tomorrow.
Madam Z returns to her office as usual.
But this time, the secretary, who always fully engages in the daily agenda, looks up to her.
Secretary Sharon: Please wait, Madam Z.
She passes her a box.
Secretary Sharon: Madam Constantine asked me to give this to you.
Z: Did she say why?
Secretary Sharon: No, she didn't explain it.
Sharon quickly goes through her head.
Secretary Sharon: Wait, I think she mentioned ... it's September 11 in the Chinese calendar today.
Z: ...
Z: I see. Please send my thanks to her.
Sharon nods and quietly returns to her seat.
Madam Z looks at the box.
A faint smell of red sandalwood wafts in the air.
A set of brand new Go.
A gift card is attached.
Constantine: "I'm glad to witness your progress."
Z: ...
Madam Z closes the box calmly and puts it into her pocket.
She opens the door and walks into her office.
She looks around.
This is just an ordinary room. Normal, but practical.
There are regulation documents, academic journals, and calendars and agendas. An old photo is placed next to the mirror.
She sees herself in that mirror.
The face in the mirror is a lot more mature than the young girl in that old photo.
... Will a doe become a tigress?
She runs her hand through her hair.
It doesn't seem too long ago when she still had a braid to her shoulder.
She combs her hair and splits it into three strands.
Lay the leftmost strand on top of the rightmost, go across, then the right goes on top of the left, cross, and tie it up.
The braid bristles, like an awkward sheep tail.
Z: Heh heh ...
She opens the refrigerator and takes out a plain cake under the cold light.
With a tight pull, the lamp turns off.
The room quiets down again.
Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you.
May the good luck go with you. Happy birthday to you.
*blows out the candle*
