The math majors were practically howling in despair, while the students who came just for fun sat there looking totally lost, completely clueless about what was going on. They had at least heard of Lorenzo. The guy was a total legend in Basterel University’s math department—the ultimate top student, runner-up in the International Mathematical Tournament, and currently working on his PhD at Basterel.
The ones auditing the class had no idea how miserable the actual majors were, and one of them asked, "Is it really that bad?"
It was known that advanced calculus had one of the highest failure rates. Even for the math majors, this course was no joke, which said everything about how brutal it was.
One of the majors explained, "Lorenzo has this thing where, before every class, he picks someone at random and gives them a pop quiz. If that person can’t answer correctly, they lose grade points." Getting points deducted was just the beginning. He’d make any student who failed to answer his questions read all sorts of advanced math books. And it didn’t stop there. After reading, the student would be tested again, just so Lorenzo could see whether they had actually read the books thoroughly. If they still couldn’t answer, an even more miserable fate awaited them.
Someone auditing the class asked nervously, "We’re just sitting in—he’s not gonna come after us, right?"
That major replied, "Lorenzo once picked a girl who was only here to sit in. He made her run ten laps around the track. After that, she never dared to come to this class just to keep her boyfriend company again."
With that, the whole room got tense. Everyone was thinking, ‘This guy’s a freaking monster.’
The non-majors were already planning an escape—but before they could act, Lorenzo walked in. He might be a monster in the students’ eyes, but he looked like he’d just stepped off a soap opera set. He was tall, ridiculously good- looking, and that white shirt on him made him look clean-cut and eye-catching. He and Joshua had totally different vibes. When Joshua wore a white shirt, he gave off such a restrained, buttoned-up vibe—it made one want to rip it right off him.
But Shermaine thought Lorenzo looked kind of familiar, like she’d seen him somewhere before. She tried to recall, but it just wouldn’t come to her.
Lorenzo set his book down on the desk, glanced across the classroom without calling roll, and said, "For the next week, I’ll be filling in for the professor. Sit tight." The students immediately straightened up in their seats, wearing looks of pure misery.
Then Lorenzo picked up a piece of chalk and started writing a complicated problem on the blackboard.
Wendelyn stayed calm as ever, not the least bit worried that she might get picked to solve it. Even if she did, she could handle it. Back in high school, she had been good at science and math, and even after starting college, she hadn’t fallen behind in math. She kept up with the books and practiced problems every now and then. She wanted people to see that even though she was majoring in Comparative Literature—and doing exceptionally well in it—she was just as capable in mathematics. More importantly, Wendelyn wanted to show Shermaine that although she’d lost to her in chess, in everything else, Shermaine wasn’t going to win just because she was a little clever.
Shermaine took off her black cap. The girl sitting next to her looked unusually nervous for some reason. She kept sipping chamomile tea, clearly terrified that Lorenzo might pick her to solve the problem. The girl had already drunk more than half her chamomile tea, and with her hand shaking, the lid slipped off—it wasn’t screwed on tight and rolled right next to Shermaine.
Shermaine bent down and picked it up for her.
"Thanks," the girl said.
"No problem," Shermaine replied.
The girl couldn’t help but glance at Shermaine, and she was instantly struck by her looks. Shermaine wasn’t just pretty—her bone structure was flawless. She was absolutely stunning. Next to Shermaine, even Wendelyn—the most popular girl on campus—seemed a little plain.
The girl whispered, "How come you don’t look nervous at all?"
"I’m actually really nervous," Shermaine said.
The girl looked at her, clearly doubtful, and thought, ‘Really? I think you’re lying, but I’ve got no proof.’
Lorenzo finished writing the problem and tossed the chalk aside. "Students in the middle right, rows seven and eight, come up, grab a sheet, and solve this problem. You’ve got ten minutes."
At that, the girl instantly pulled a long face when she realized they were in the eighth row. She thought, ‘Figures. Worst fears always come true!’ The first student in the seventh and eighth rows looked like he was about to cry as he stepped forward to grab the paper and started passing it down the row.
Lorenzo hadn’t given them a calculus problem—it was advanced mathematics. Strictly speaking, calculus was more difficult than advanced math, but Lorenzo had a way of making things tricky. If the students hadn’t done enough practice, it was easy to get tripped up by his questions.
On the blackboard, the problem read: Find positive values of a and b such that the equation (X+0)lim[1/(x−bsinx)]∫0x(a+t2)dt=1 holds true.
In the seventh row, Wendelyn took the sheet of paper and immediately pulled out her pen to begin working on the problem. Sitting among the students, Ruth felt a bit awkward. Even though she had dressed younger, the years had left their mark—like the crow’s feet around her eyes—making it obvious she wasn’t some young college girl. She had no clue how to solve any of this, so she just pretended to be working. As long as Wendelyn figured it out, she’d be fine.
Wendelyn, ever considerate, turned her head and handed a ballpoint pen to Shermaine. "You got this, Shermaine." It was a blatant challenge. She was betting Shermaine wouldn’t be able to solve it.
But for Shermaine, the question was a piece of cake. She took the pen and started writing, her hand flying across the page. In less than thirty seconds, she had it solved.
The girl next to her was chewing her nails and bouncing her leg like crazy, but her sheet was still blank. Up at the front, Lorenzo sat with his legs crossed, keeping his eyes on the students in the seventh and eighth rows, occasionally checking his watch.
Shermaine spun the pen between her fingers and cast a sympathetic glance at the girl beside her, who looked like she might burst into tears. Lorenzo, noticing Shermaine twisting her pen and glancing sideways, immediately frowned. "Eighth row, sixth seat, the girl in the black hoodie, focus on your own paper. Don’t distract others."
The moment he said it, everyone looked over—only to realize that the girl who’d just been called on, Shermaine, was actually gorgeous. With the cap she’d been wearing, no one had noticed she was even better looking than Wendelyn.
Hearing "sixth seat, black hoodie," Shermaine realized Lorenzo was talking about her. She turned her head and locked eyes with him. He was looking right at her, his gaze laced with scrutiny. Shermaine genuinely felt like Lorenzo looked familiar somehow, but just couldn’t place where she’d seen him before. She was smart and had a photographic memory, but she wasn’t great at remembering faces. She wondered, ‘Is he staring at me like that because he thinks I look familiar too?’
Just as she was about to speak, Wendelyn raised her hand and said in a soft, sweet voice, "Sir, my sister Shermaine isn’t a student here. It’s her first time visiting our campus, so I hope you won’t be too harsh and scare her off."
Shermaine raised an eyebrow.
The moment Lorenzo got a clear look at Shermaine’s face, it finally clicked. She was the one who had snatched his gold medal back at the International Mathematical Tournament. He thought, ‘It’s been a long time. Can’t believe I’m seeing you again, here at Basterel University.’
Lorenzo didn’t say anything else. Ten minutes later, he began calling on students at random. Those selected had to stand up and present their answers in front of everyone. Unfortunately, the girl sitting next to Shermaine was chosen. Her seat number came up in the random draw.
Shermaine noticed her sheet was still completely blank. As the girl stood up trembling like she might faint, Shermaine took the chance to steady her while slipping her own completed answer sheet into the girl’s hands in exchange. The girl froze, then gave Shermaine a grateful look.
Three students were selected in total. Besides the girl, there was a male student and Wendelyn.
The girl copied Shermaine’s answer onto the blackboard. After seeing Shermaine’s approach, she thought, ‘Turns out this problem’s actually pretty easy. Just apply L’Hôpital’s Rule—first, split the integral. Since (X→0)lim(1−bcosx)=0, that gives b=1. Substituting back into the original expression gives a=4.’ The girl vaguely remembered coming across this question while doing practice problems before, but her memory wasn’t sharp enough—and with all the nerves, it completely slipped her mind. After finishing the full process and answer, she went back to her seat.
The guy hadn’t solved it and gave up entirely. Wendelyn, on the other hand, had solved it correctly too.
When Lorenzo confirmed that both she and the other girl had the right answers, students immediately began hyping Wendelyn up. One of the students said, "Whoa, Wendelyn’s a Comparative Literature major and she still nailed this? That’s insane. Total genius, seriously."