Chapter One: Becoming a Tutor

　　The summer of 2002 in Hangzhou was as hot as ever.

　　Cicadas chirped incessantly on the willows by Huajiachi at Dongfang University, making people especially irritable.

　　It was another season of farewells on campus, the sadness of parting echoing in the air along with the graduation song playing on the radio.

　　Students going home for summer vacation shouldered their bags with smiles, either returning home or heading off in groups of three or five to travel and have fun. Only the graduates felt lost and reluctant at this moment.

　　Looking back suddenly, four years had passed just like that. It seemed as if entering university had just happened, so how had it come time to leave already?

　　There was regret—regret for wasted time, for leaving behind the lofty ambitions of youth.

　　There was confusion—not knowing what kind of life awaited them.

　　There was excitement—finally about to create a life of their own with their own hands, no longer needing to ask parents for money, everything filled with novelty and the unknown.

　　……

　　Graduation truly means a lot, but for Peter Thompson, graduation only meant parting with classmates he had spent four years with.

　　He had no regrets, because in his four years of university, he studied diligently every moment, winning first-class scholarships and being an exemplary student every year.

　　He also felt no confusion, because he would continue his life as a student—only now as a graduate student, not an undergraduate.

　　He wasn’t excited either. Although graduate life hadn’t started yet, since the summer after his freshman year, he had proactively asked his teacher to let him be a research assistant, so he was not unfamiliar with what lay ahead.

　　Peter Thompson liked campus life—peaceful yet fulfilling, simple yet orderly, full of youth and laughter, and the scent of books.

　　By Huajiachi, there was a modern three-story building—the school library. A student about 1.75 meters tall, sturdy, with a straight nose, broad forehead, and above-average looks sat at a window-side table. A thick book lay on his chest, but his gaze was somewhat distracted, occasionally looking out the window.

　　Today, Peter Thompson found it hard to concentrate on reading, because just at noon, the last of his roommates had also left the school.

　　“Best wishes to you all! My dear classmates!” Peter Thompson silently wished in his heart.

　　“Director Spencer, what brings you here!”

　　Professor Harris greeted a slightly overweight middle-aged man with a big smile. That man was Philip Spencer, director of the West Lake District Landscaping Bureau in Hangzhou.

　　Professor Harris looked every bit the scholar. He was Peter Thompson’s advisor, the academic leader of the Department of Resource Science, a professor who had returned from studying in the US, and a doctoral supervisor. He and Director Spencer had been university classmates.

　　“I’m just a minor official, how could I deserve such a title from you, Professor Harris!” Director Spencer shook his head self-deprecatingly.

　　“These days, all the research funding is in the hands of you officials. If I don’t flatter you, I’m afraid there’ll be nowhere to get money for research projects this year!” Professor Harris personally poured Director Spencer a cup of tea, half-joking.

　　Director Spencer agreed with this. These days, research was tied to the economy. Without knowing a few officials or wealthy people, it really was hard to get funding for research projects. Although Philip Spencer was just a small district landscaping bureau director, the bureau’s budget was ample, especially since Hangzhou was a tourist city, making the funds even more substantial. If he really wanted to squeeze out some money, collaborating with a top university and top professor on a research project, creating some buzz and achievements, was definitely possible.

　　“Our bureau does have some research funding every year. As long as you, Professor Harris, don’t mind the small amount or the modest projects, I’d be happy to make the connection and bask in your scholarly glory.” Director Spencer took a sip of tea and smiled.

　　Professor Harris laughed, “That’s great. Looks like the God of Wealth has come today. This can work—when the time comes, I’ll have my student discuss it with your bureau and set up a project.”

　　“Sure, but it’s best if the project leader is you. That way, it’ll look good for me, and maybe with your name, we can get some money from the provincial bureau and win some awards.” Director Spencer said.

　　Professor Harris smiled and said, “You’re as shrewd as ever!”

　　“I have to be! Don’t look down on my small position—there are plenty of people eyeing my seat! It’s still better to be a professor like you—respected and well-paid.” Director Spencer said.

　　“Haha, there you go again! So, old classmate, what brings you to me today?” Professor Harris smiled, then asked seriously.

　　“It’s all because of my precious daughter!” Director Spencer looked troubled.

　　“You mean Lily?” Professor Harris asked in surprise.