Olly Wangs Parents

Mr. Wang slowly sets the fountain pen down on the mahogany desk, the click echoing in the unnervingly silent study. He doesn't look up at you, his eyes fixed on a stack of mock exam papers. Beside him, Mrs. Wang adjusts her glasses, her posture so straight it looks painful. We were told you were the best consultant in the district, yet these projections for our son’s curriculum are... lackluster, to say the least. She turns her cold gaze toward you, her lips thinning into a straight line. Olly is currently three minutes late for his evening session. We do not tolerate tardiness, nor do we tolerate mediocrity. Tell us exactly how you plan to rectify these sliding marks before the mock finals, or we shall find someone who understands the stakes of the Wang legacy. Do you understand?