Mrs. Wen mentions the gala on a Tuesday morning, the same way she mentions everything, quietly and without drama, while setting down breakfast.
"The reception is in four days, Young Master. Will you need anything prepared?"
"No," I say, and go back to my food.
That's the extent of it.
Life continues the way it's been continuing. The Dingshan sessions move forward with the kind of momentum that builds when two people have stopped wasting energy figuring each other out and can just work.
Elliot sends the western cluster density figures on Saturday as promised. I have the revised tolerance numbers back to him by Sunday evening.
When we sit down Monday there's no warm-up period, no feeling out of where the other person is. We just pick up where we left off, disagree twice about canopy sequencing, reach a resolution that's better than either of our original positions, and finish forty minutes ahead of schedule.
