Butterfly Flying Out the Window

When the pale yellow sun appeared directly above the distant rooftops, the chief teaching assistant's report in the Dean's Office was also nearing its end.

The pipe at Professor Yao's lips had never gone out. Like an engine running at full power, it kept puffing out white smoke, drowning the upper half of the office in thick haze.

"Is there anything else?" After discussing the stack of reports on the desk, the professor rubbed his sore eyes, took the pipe from his mouth, and looked up at the chief teaching assistant before him as he packed tobacco into the bowl.

The long interrogation had drained much of Zhang Yu's strength and left his voice somewhat hoarse.

"That concludes the planned work," the assistant said quietly in a raspy voice. "But there are still a few matters that need you to establish a general direction for first."

Old Yao let out a long breath. He did not speak immediately, merely raising a hand and snapping his fingers.

Snap!

Several little elves in gray work uniforms suddenly appeared before the professor. Some held fruit trays, some dragged teapots, some carried rags, while others tugged along a copper Trumpet Flower with its mouth wide open, charging into the layer of smoke above everyone's heads.

Though the professor offered no explanation, Zhang Yu knew that while he had been making his report, the little elves had been kept outside the office by the professor's magic. Only after receiving permission could they come in to clean and attend to them.

The smoker's low hum circled overhead, sweeping away impurities that had nothing to do with color, scent, or fresh air. Several spotless white rags whisked over the desk, windowsill, and bookcase, turning dusty gray in the blink of an eye. A little elf dragging a