Tony Snow instinctively reached for Liu Gray's graduate-level mathematics workbook and scanned the problem.
"I don't even understand the official solution. Honestly, I trust Tony's methods more than the answer key," Liu Gray said with a sheepish grin.
Tony smiled faintly and read aloud, "Let P be a moving point on the ellipsoid surface S: x + y + z – yz = l. If the tangent plane to S at point P is perpendicular to the x-y plane, determine the locus C of point P, and calculate the surface integral—"
(x + √3)y – 2z / √(4 + y + z – 4yz) dS,
where Σ is the portion of the ellipsoid above curve C.
"Actually, this is a pretty standard type," Tony began. "You start by defining a scalar function F(x, y, z) representing the surface. Then apply the given condition—in this case, a perpendicular tangent plane—to derive a relationship using partial derivatives."
He walked Liu Gray through the steps: finding the gradient, solving for the normal vector, and deriving the constraints based on geometry. Liu Gray asked follow-up questions along the way, mostly about skipped steps, and Tony clarified each one until it clicked.
"These problems all follow a pattern," Tony concluded. "Work enough of them and the structure becomes second nature."
He was about to climb into bed when Liu Gray chimed in again, "Wait—just two more? These next two don't explain anything—just drop a result without walking through it."
Tony raised an eyebrow but nodded, flipping through the book to the new questions and calmly breaking them down one by one.
From the corner of the room, Leo Trent and Zack Larson piped up.
"Liu Gray, at this point, you should treat Tony to dinner or something."
"Or at least become his boyfriend," Leo joked.
"What are you talking about? You want him to fight our study queen for that honor?" Zack teased, laughing.
They weren't entirely wrong. Liu Gray had treated Tony to meals before—just regular student cafeteria food, but still, it was a show of appreciation. Tony had tried to refuse the first time, but Liu Gray insisted, so he accepted the gesture.
Tony rolled his eyes. "Zack, did you miss your dad over winter break and now you want to roleplay a lecture?"
He leaned slightly off his bed as if ready to pounce.
"No, no, no—I was wrong, bro, I was totally wrong! Spare me, Tony-ge!" Zack pleaded, raising his hands in surrender. He was still hoping to copy Tony's homework at some point and didn't want to get on his bad side.
"How's the civil service prep going? Still aiming for that golden government job?" Tony asked with a grin.
Zack groaned. "I'm trying, but the study material is a nightmare. Why do they expect us to know everything from quantum physics to national law? I feel like I'm prepping for a game show and a philosophy debate at the same time."
Tony laughed. "That's public service for you. You're not just applying for a desk—you're applying to solve the country's problems."
The next few days passed in a steady rhythm—classes, study, the library. But something had changed.
Teachers started calling on Tony more often during lectures. After his remarkable exam results last semester, professors were curious if he truly had the skills to back it up—or if it was a fluke. Tony didn't mind. He welcomed the challenge.
Then, less than a week into the new term, Tony got a message.
It was from Mr. Hughes, the same man who had first hired him to tutor his son the previous year.
But this time, Mr. Hughes wasn't calling for his own family. He had recommended Tony to someone else: his company's CEO.
Apparently, at the company's annual dinner, Mr. Hughes had mentioned his son's academic improvement, and the CEO—Mr. Shea—had taken interest.
"Our boss wants your contact info," Mr. Hughes had texted. "He's hoping you'll tutor his daughter. I told him you're the real deal."
Tony texted back cautiously, "I've got a full schedule this term. Weekends are tight too. Might not be feasible."
But Hughes insisted. "Don't say no yet! Mr. Shea's offer will be better than mine—much better. I've already passed along your WeChat. He should message you soon. Talk to him first before deciding."
Curiosity piqued, Tony agreed.
The next day, Mr. Shea messaged Tony directly.
He introduced himself briefly, then cut to the chase.
"My daughter's been having a rough time lately—for personal reasons. I'd like to hire you to tutor her. 300 credits per hour. Two days a week, Saturdays and Sundays. Two hours each day."
Tony's eyes widened. 300 an hour? That meant 1,200 credits a week for just four hours of work.
That's half a month's living expenses, Tony thought, stunned. These CEOs really live in another world.
But something didn't sit quite right. The price was almost too good. Tony felt a subtle red flag, but there wasn't any concrete reason to decline.
Before he could think too long, Mr. Shea followed up:
"Because of some issues on my end, my daughter's emotionally withdrawn. Please be patient when you meet her. If you're available, let's meet tomorrow—Sunday, 2 p.m., Blue Harbor Café on Grant Avenue. We can talk in detail."
Tony tapped back: "I'm free tomorrow afternoon. See you then."
He was sitting in the library when he sent the message. Beside him, Clara Quinn was studying her usual biology texts, but she noticed Tony typing intently for a long while.
Whether it was curiosity, affection, or quiet jealousy, she leaned over slightly to sneak a peek.
Tony caught her glance and smiled faintly. So this is why she wanted to delay dating until after exams, he thought. She's the kind of person who gives her heart fully. If she cares about you, you'll be in her thoughts every minute. She didn't want that to get in the way of her future.
He leaned closer to her ear and whispered, "It's just a client. Some CEO wants to hire me as a tutor. Take a look."
He flipped his phone screen toward her so she could see the WeChat chat log.
But as he whispered, his breath brushed across her ear and cheek—and that was all it took.
Clara's entire face turned bright red. A jolt of warmth raced from her neck all the way down her spine. Her hands trembled as she quickly turned her face away.
Tony grinned but tried to suppress his laughter.
"Pfft…" A quiet snort escaped his lips, despite his efforts not to disturb the students around them.
Clara buried her face deeper into her scarf, wishing she could disappear.