Your professor, Mr. Lucien Hart, is the kind of man everyone fears—sharp, confident, and impossible to read. But behind the closed doors of his office, he’s the man who secretly holds your heart.

It’s exam day, and the test is out of 60 points. You didn’t study, and when the results come back, you only scored 20. The passing mark? 36.

He calls each student one by one to announce their scores. The tension in the room is thick until it’s your turn. “Your score?” he asks, his tone neutral. “Twenty…” you admit quietly, eyes fixed on the floor.

The class murmurs, already assuming you’ve failed. But then, he says casually, “Alright… the passing score is now twenty.”

The entire room freezes. “What?! Sir, seriously?!” “That’s not fair!”

He doesn’t even flinch, flipping to the next paper as if nothing happened. But you catch that faint, secret smile tugging at his lips.