"Thank you, professors, for bringing me the mail. If there's nothing else, I'll return to class."
Tony Snow neatly folded the three thin letters and slipped them into his pocket. Just as he was about to leave the office, the Dean of Mathematics, who had been quietly observing him, finally spoke up.
"Mr. Snow—may I take a look at those letters?"
"Sure," Tony said casually, pulling them back out and handing them over.
The Dean, Professor Douglas Whitmore, was a rising star in the field of analysis and topology—he held several accolades: full professorship, PhD advisor status, and had recently been awarded a national-level research grant for early-career excellence. In addition to serving as the Dean of the School of Mathematics and Computer Science, he also chaired the university's Graduate Studies Committee.
After receiving the letters, Professor Whitmore handed one each to Dr. Howard Quinn from the Life Sciences department and President Richard Huxley, who had accompanied them earlier. They all began reading intently.
"It's genuine."
"Institute for Advanced Study, Paris-Saclay University… these are world-class research institutions. This is going to put our university on the map."
"Dr. Quinn, you really ought to let him transfer to our department. With talent like this in mathematics, we'd grant him the degree today if we could—it's a waste keeping him in bioengineering."
"Oh, get out of here," Dr. Quinn replied with a smirk. "I invited you both to see this, not to poach one of my brightest students."
The three academics chuckled, but the moment carried weight. They weren't joking.
"Tony," President Huxley turned to him, still holding one of the letters, "have you considered it? Whether to accept Princeton's or Paris-Saclay's offer? With your accomplishments, you could practically write your own ticket anywhere."
Tony looked up. "I'm not planning to go abroad."
The room fell into brief silence.
"Not going?" President Huxley echoed, stunned. "Why?"
These days, any student with ambition—or even just a decent resume—was scrambling for a chance to study overseas. For someone with actual invitations from top-tier institutions to turn them down? It was unheard of.
Tony stayed calm. "I'm also not switching majors. I plan to stay in bioengineering and pursue a Master's degree here in the country."
The three men looked at each other, equally surprised.
"You want to stay in biological research?" President Huxley began, but Dr. Quinn cut in immediately.
"No buts. You heard him—he's not changing departments. Stop circling."
"Well then," said the president, chuckling, "which graduate school are you thinking about? We have priority nomination slots, and I have colleagues at most of the top programs. Just tell me your preference—I'll help initiate contact. Once they understand your credentials, you'll have multiple offers on the table."
Meanwhile, Professor Whitmore, who had remained relatively quiet, looked up and asked, "Tony, what's the title of the paper you submitted?"
"A Dichotomy for the Weierstrass-Type Functions," Tony answered simply.
The moment he said that, both President Huxley and Dr. Quinn glanced at Whitmore. Their backgrounds were in chemistry and biology respectively—while they understood the words, they didn't grasp the full implications.
But Whitmore's eyes lit up.
"Weierstrass-type functions and dichotomies… yes, that would absolutely belong in Mathematical Advances," he said. "Can you tell me—how did you prove it?"
Tony gave a modest smile. "It's a bit involved, but I can explain the key steps."
And so, standing in the office with all three listening, Tony briefly outlined the core ideas of the paper—how he had constructed a classification framework for the dichotomous behavior of Weierstrass-type functions using measure theory and dynamical systems. He skipped the heavy technical derivations, but even so, Professor Whitmore's eyes were shining with admiration.
President Huxley and Dr. Quinn may not have fully grasped the math, but they could tell from Whitmore's excitement just how serious it was.
The conversation went on for a while. It was nearly noon by the time they finally let Tony return to class.
As soon as he left the building, the three university leaders walked together toward the faculty dining hall, still deep in discussion about what had just transpired.
Once lunch was over and they split off, each of them reached for their phones. Though Tony had asked that the news not be publicized just yet, they couldn't help but message a few old colleagues—carefully omitting Tony's name.
"Met an incredible undergrad today. Third-year. Published in Mathematical Advances. Invitations from IAS and Paris-Saclay. Staying local. Unbelievable."
Tony had asked for discretion because he still wanted a few more days of peace. He knew that once the paper went public next month, that peace would vanish.
President Huxley, as seasoned as he was, understood that Tony's ambitions couldn't be confined to their small regional university. Sooner or later, he would outgrow the institution—and when that time came, the only question would be where he would go next.
And yet, Tony hadn't even decided that yet.
Back in the dorm, Tony had barely stepped inside when his three roommates pounced.
"Bro, what was that? The Dean and the President came for you? And who was the third guy?"
"That paper's not even published yet—how did they find out?!"
"I heard someone say the other guy was a Dean too, but from math or something."
"Haha, you should've seen Professor Liu's face when you got pulled out. It was priceless!"
Tony waved them off and headed to his desk.
"It's no big deal. The third guy was Dean of Mathematics."
He grabbed his water bottle and walked out of the room to fill it, speaking over his shoulder.
"They didn't see the paper, but Mathematical Advances sent over physical mail, which ended up in Dr. Quinn's hands. The letters included invitations from Princeton's Institute for Advanced Study and from Paris-Saclay. They asked if I'd go abroad, which I'm not."
By now, his three roommates had followed him like ducklings.
"We talked a bit about the paper, and that was it. Just some academic stuff. Nothing major."
As he returned to his seat, cup in hand, the trio burst into exaggerated applause.
"Tony the Titan!"
"Mr. Mathematical!"
"Professor Snow, teach us, please."
Tony rolled his eyes but couldn't help smiling.
"Alright, alright. Let's focus. Who wants to review stats with me tonight?"