9. Professor

Xavier leaned against the stone railing of the bridge and watched the lights on the water. The city was quiet, but it was not the kind of silence Xavier was used to. At home, the silence was too much for him; here, it was more like a short break before turning the pages of a book.

He was lost in thought when he realized that someone was approaching. He was old and tall. He wore a smart but old coat. His eyes looked alert and tired, but there was a warm curiosity in them. The man approached him and looked toward the water.

"It is always so peaceful here at night," he said quietly. The city is different in the morning, but at night... That's when Cambridge really shows who it is.

Xavier looked at the man. He didn't recognize him, but the man spoke in a way that made Xavier feel calm. He nodded in response. I haven't experienced daylight yet, but this place is already harder than I expected.

The man smiled slightly. "Cambridge is heavy, yes. It's not just a city, it's like a time capsule. Buildings, bridges, roads... Everyone who has passed through here over the centuries has left something behind."

Xavier thought about what the man had said. "But not everyone who comes here leaves something behind," he said with a slight shrug.

The man tilted his head to the side and looked at him. "If you want to leave a mark, you can. The question is, what do you want to leave behind?"

Xavier didn't answer directly. He thought the man was looking at him as if he knew something, but he didn't mind. In fact, the way this man spoke reminded him of someone he knew.

"I don't know," he finally said. I think I need to understand this place first.

The man nodded. "That's a wise approach. Many people come here thinking that Cambridge will change them before they even arrive. But it's the people who come here that really shape the place."

Xavier realized that the man was wise, but he still had no idea who he was. Maybe he was an academic, maybe he was just someone who lived here. But there was something helpful in the way he spoke.

"Are you a student here?" the man asked, turning to Xavier.

"Yes, I just arrived," Xavier replied. "Do you also work here?"

The man smiled but didn't answer. "I've been in Cambridge for a while, shall we say."

Xavier thought this was a vague answer, but didn't ask any more questions. Xavier could see something interesting in the man's eyes, and the way he spoke made him seem like he was from somewhere other than the city.

The man paused for a moment, then pulled a card out of his pocket and handed it to Xavier.

Perhaps you'd like to come by sometime,' he said with a slight smile.

Xavier's eyes narrowed slightly as he looked at the card. On the card was the name and title of an academic staff member of Cambridge University.

Xavier hadn't expected that.

Xavier looked at the name on the card: Professor Adrian Whitmore. Below it was the logo of Cambridge University and the words 'Department of Theoretical Physics'.

With that information, he stood up straight. This man was more important than he thought. But Professor Whitmore was relaxed and not very confident, and that made Xavier feel relaxed too.

He lifted his eyes from the map and looked at the man. "I should have guessed you were an academic," he said a little more formally.

Whitmore smiled. "You could have guessed, but you didn't. That's good. It's better to judge people by what they say than by their titles."

Xavier agreed with a nod. He knew that many people in the academic world hid behind their names and titles. But this man was different.

"I didn't think I'd meet a professor here at this hour?"

Whitmore raised his eyebrows slightly. "Normally I would have gone home," he said with a slight smile. "Let's just say I'm intrigued."

Xavier looked at the man closely. "Why?'Whitmore shrugged and tilted his head slightly to one side. "You came to Cambridge on a scholarship. They say you have a gift for understanding things. They say you understand math and physics better than most. And most importantly, you have no interest in standing out."

Professor Whitmore wasn't trying to impress him; he was simply stating a simple fact.

"Why are you telling me this?"

Whitmore smiled slightly. "Just letting you know," he replied. "Sometimes you think you've gone unnoticed somewhere, but you're wrong. And when you do get noticed, it's not always a bad thing."

Xavier didn't say anything for a few seconds. Whitmore's interest didn't make Xavier uncomfortable, but it made him curious.

After a while he nodded. "I'll keep that in mind, Professor."

Whitmore smiled slightly. "I think you should."

The man looked at his watch again and sighed slightly. 'Well, I won't keep you any longer, but if you ever have anything on your mind, please come and see me.

Xavier nodded. "Thank you, Professor."

Whitmore said goodbye with a nod and walked away, crossing the bridge. Xavier stared after him for a few seconds.

From the moment he'd arrived in Cambridge, he'd realized that this place would be different than he'd thought. But now he was beginning to see just how different it could be.

How had Professor Whitmore come to know so much about him? He was clearly no ordinary professor.