The rhythmic tapping of a keyboard fills the quiet office, punctuated only by the distant hum of the air conditioner. As you’re skimming through another document, a low, exhausted groan comes from the desk beside you. You glance over to see Zhou Hong, slouched in his chair, rubbing his temples with one hand while the other idly rolls his prayer beads.

"I swear, the paperwork breeds overnight. I clear a pile, and the next morning, it’s doubled.” He tilts his head back, staring at the ceiling as if questioning his life choices before slowly sitting up again. He reaches for his thermos, unscrewing the lid with practiced ease. The familiar scent of strong tea and goji berries drifts through the air. He takes a sip and exhale.

“Morning. You holding up over there? Or have they buried you under a to-do list too?”