Trouble with the subject

Chance gathered his thoughts and set off for his parents' house. When he arrived, his mother burst into tears upon seeing him, and his father stood beside her, his expression a mix of worry and anger.

"Where have you been for the past two months, young man?" his father demanded, his voice trembling with a blend of relief and frustration. "Do you have any idea how worried your mother and I have been?"

Chance's mother, her face wet with tears, reached out to him, her voice quivering. "It's enough that you're back, Chance. Thank God you're home."

Chance felt a pang of guilt as he looked at his parents. He couldn't possibly explain his extraordinary journey to them. Who would believe such a fantastic tale of time travel and adventures in the Ming Dynasty? It sounded too far-fetched, even to his own ears.

They all sat down at the dinner table, where his mother had prepared a feast of his favorite dishes. The meal was meant to be a celebration of his return, but Chance could feel the unspoken questions hanging heavily in the air. He tried to focus on the food, savoring the familiar tastes and the comfort of home.

After dinner, Chance retreated to his old bedroom. The room was a time capsule of his earlier life, filled with books, posters, and mementos from his childhood and school years. He sat on the edge of his bed, the weight of his secret pressing down on him.

He thought about how he would return to the lab the next day, to resume his PhD research and continue his work. He knew that he had to keep his extraordinary experiences to himself and try to find some semblance of normalcy in his life.

The next morning, Chance woke up early, determined to get back to his research. He gathered his notes and laptop, preparing for a long day at the lab. As he was about to leave, his mother handed him a packed lunch, her eyes filled with concern.

"Take care, Chance," she said softly. "And please, no more disappearing acts."

"I promise, Mom," Chance replied, giving her a reassuring smile. "I'll be careful."

As he walked to the lab, Chance felt a strange sense of detachment. The world around him seemed both familiar and foreign, as if he were seeing it through new eyes. His experiences in the past had changed him in ways he couldn't fully comprehend.

Arriving at the lab, he was greeted by his colleagues, who were surprised but relieved to see him. They bombarded him with questions about where he had been and why he had been unreachable. Chance gave vague answers, citing personal issues that needed his attention.

Once he was alone in his office, Chance immersed himself in his work, hoping that the routine and intellectual challenge would help ground him. He reviewed his research, the equations and theories that had once consumed his thoughts, now seeming distant and less urgent compared to the life-and-death struggles he had faced in the past.

Throughout the day, he found his mind wandering back to the Ming Dynasty. The faces of those he had loved and lost appeared vividly in his mind—Keiko, YoYo, Rossy. Their memories were like ghosts, haunting him with the what-ifs and might-have-beens.

Chance shook his head, trying to focus. He couldn't afford to dwell on the past. He had to concentrate on the present and the future, on the work that lay ahead. 

As the sun set and the lab emptied, Chance sat at his desk, the glow of his computer screen illuminating his thoughtful expression. 

Chance's advisor, Professor T. Ramayah, had just returned from a month-long academic exchange program. Known for his strict demeanor and high expectations, Professor Ramayah wasted no time in seeking out his student. He found Chance buried in his work at the lab, seemingly oblivious to the world around him.

"Chance," Professor Ramayah's voice rang out, sharp and commanding, "my office, now."

Chance looked up, startled by the sudden intrusion. He had been so engrossed in his research that he hadn't even noticed the professor's return. Gathering his notes and taking a deep breath, he followed Professor Ramayah to his office.

The professor's office was as austere as the man himself—shelves lined with academic journals, walls adorned with degrees and awards, and a large, imposing desk at the center. Professor Ramayah took his seat behind the desk, fixing Chance with a stern gaze.

"Do you know how many times I've checked this lab in the past month only to find you absent?" Professor Ramayah began, his tone leaving no room for excuses. "Your recent absence has not gone unnoticed, and it certainly has not gone unrecorded."

Chance felt a knot tighten in his stomach. He knew this confrontation was coming, but the weight of it was now fully upon him. "I'm sorry, Professor. I had some personal issues that I had to deal with."

Professor Ramayah's eyes narrowed. "Personal issues? This is a PhD program, Chance, not a casual hobby. If you can't dedicate yourself fully, then perhaps this isn't the right path for you."

Chance swallowed hard, trying to find the right words. "I understand, Professor. I promise it won't happen again. I've made significant progress in my research over the past few days, and I can show you my findings."

The professor leaned back in his chair, scrutinizing Chance. "Show me what you've done."

Chance quickly laid out his notes and opened his laptop, presenting his latest research on quantum entanglement and time dilation. He explained his theories and the experiments he had been conducting, hoping to convey his dedication and the breakthroughs he had made.

Professor Ramayah listened intently, his expression unreadable. When Chance finished, the room fell into a heavy silence. Finally, the professor spoke.

"Your work here is promising," he admitted, his tone grudgingly approving. "But promising isn't enough. You need to produce results, and you need to produce them consistently."

Chance nodded, relief mingled with anxiety. "I will, Professor. I just need a little more time."

Professor Ramayah's gaze hardened. "Time is a luxury you no longer have. If your research does not show substantial progress by the end of the semester, I will have no choice but to recommend an extension of your program. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Professor," Chance replied, determination filling his voice. "I understand. I won't let you down."

Knowing the day. Chance stood outside the professor's office, his heart pounding. He knocked on the door and walked in to be greeted by Professor Ramaya's usual stern expression.

"Professor, I have my progress report." Chance was about to open his mouth to speak, his expression was very tense