One of the things Niuniu likes about her job is not having to spend the whole day in the office. This means she has avoided work politics and maintained a good relationship with most of her colleagues. But she has never imagined those relations are as good as they seem today. Niuniu walks into her office building and enters the lift. The three people in the lift greet her with exceptional warmth and an enthusiastic chorus of 'good morning'. Niuniu is a little surprised, but she responds in a similar manner. 'How was your weekend, Niuniu?' asks Mr Lai. 'Fine, thanks,' says Niuniu. Then Mr Lai winks at her. The wink seems forced. Not insincere, but practised. Almost as though Mr Lai has been holding that wink in his pocket all morning just waiting to spring it on her. Is this a 'how do you do?' wink? No, Niuniu thinks. This is almost certainly a 'thanks for last night' wink. Niuniu smiles awkwardly and faces the front of the lift. When the door opens, she steps out and heads towards her office with the feeling of Mr Lai's eyes burning on her back. She walks to her desk, puts down her belongings and picks up her cup. Niuniu walks to the kitchen to get some hot water when in walks Linda, an editor from New Zealand. Niuniu has gone to lunch with Linda on several occasions and is rather fond of her. 'Niuniu, I can't believe this!' Linda says, walking up closely behind her. 'You had me totally fooled. I am so glad you had the courage to tell me. I don't think I would have felt comfortable approaching you.' 'Oh, Linda, I'm sorry. I'm a bit confused,' she replies. 'Niuniu, please don't worry about it,' says Linda. 'I totally understand. I was the same way. Listen, this isn't the time or the place to talk, but let's have lunch, OK?' And then Linda is gone. On the way back to her desk, Niuniu encounters Mr Chun, a brutish man from the advertising department who has on several occasions asked inappropriate questions about Niuniu's personal life. Niuniu has learned to steer clear of him. He stands in her path holding a pile of colour-coded files and a box of paper clips. But he doesn't say anything. He just stands there smiling, bobbing his head up and down with all the apparent satisfaction of a man who can finally say: 'I told you so.' 'What's happening?' Niuniu wonders. If ever there is a day to go out in the field to gather a story, this is it. She suddenly feels self-conscious. Just thinking of this sequence of events makes her shudder. Whisking past Mr Chun, Niuniu returns to her desk hoping to quickly check her e-mail before heading out. She has 67 new messages; a surprisingly high number for a Monday morning. But even more strange is that most of them are titled 'Re: I Love You'. 'Another chain letter?' thinks Niuniu. This one seems to be popular. She hasn't received so many messages on one topic since she responded to the internet hoax about the little girl who needed a liver transplant and had been promised a donation of $1 from McDonald's for every person she contacted by e-mail. Niuniu opens the first e-mail, the one from her boss. It reads: 'Niuniu, I appreciate your candour, but I am involved with someone else. I have a great deal of respect for you. Please, let's not mix business with pleasure.' Then comes one from Mr Chun: 'My wife is visiting her parents this week. Please meet me after work in the parking lot. I know a place where we can be discreet. PS: Have you ever fantasised about us doing it on your desk at work? I have!' Then one from her cousin: 'Niuniu, I think you know that I love you, too. We have always had something special between us. But this kind of love is forbidden, and I think it is best we do not pursue it. It burns me that we will never be able to be together. I don't think our families would accept it.' Below this message, Niuniu reads the text of the e-mail to which he had responded: in a very convincing and eloquent manner, the message makes a brief plea for love. Niuniu has become the most recent victim of the 'I Love You' computer virus. The virus affects Microsoft Outlook and sends out a passionate message to everyone listed in its victim's address book. Several hours later the news of this virus spreads, and Niuniu's mailbox is filled with e-mail from people begging her to disregard their previous correspondence. All except one from Mr Chun. It says: 'Well, I'm still game if you are.'