The Quartermaster Department was completely idle.

I no longer see the noisy soldiers who came to support the army's needs in the past, and the door is full of birds, and I often can't see anyone all day long.

I have never been so idle, I got up at three o'clock in the morning to wash, moved the table and chairs and sat in the courtyard waiting for the knock on the door.

But I waited and waited, and nothing waited except for the sparrows that wandered in the courtyard.

In the evening, when the table and chairs were closed, the condensed inkstone and freeze-dried brush seemed to be looking forward to the day when I would write again.

The handover to the military headquarters came to an end, and the stacks of quartermaster tables were carried by the attendants to the military headquarters storeroom.

The numbers and algorithms are so familiar and unfamiliar that I don't seem to have done the math for a long, long time

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