Holly Winslow: "..."
’That damn Mortir Quincy was laying on the charm so thick he was going to throw his back out.’
She nudged her bare feet under his clothes, trying to find a warm spot.
Mortir Quincy casually reached over, pulled the blanket from the sofa, and covered her feet. Then, he slipped his hand under the blanket to hold them.
Now that his wife’s feet were warm, he began to satisfy his own needs. "Honey, let’s continue settling our accounts."
Holly Winslow rolled her eyes. "..."
Then she bared her teeth, mimicking a tough guy from TV. "Quincy the Puppy, why are you being such a nag? Just let it go."
That scoundrel Mortir Quincy didn’t mind the word "nag" in the slightest. ’A nag is a nag,’ he thought. ’There are so things a wife simply needs to be crystal clear on.’
He raised an eyebrow. "A nag is a nag."
Noticing sothing on her teeth, he grabbed a tissue, leaned in close, and said, "Open your mouth."
Hearing him admit he was a nag, Holly Winslow was speechless. "..."
’This guy wasn’t just thick-skinned; his mouth was shaless too.’
She brazenly tilted her head back and opened her mouth. After Mortir Quincy finished wiping it, she sat up, leaned close to him, and said, "Your turn. Let see if you have anything."
Mortir Quincy: "..."
He chuckled in spite of himself and opened his mouth. Holly Winslow peered at his teeth for a mont. They were perfectly white, clean, and straight. She clicked her tongue in envy. "TSK TSK. I guess it’s true. Handso guys don’t even get food stuck in their teeth."
Mortir Quincy laughed, amused. He expertly gave her a kiss. "Honey, don’t change the subject."
He paused, his tone tinged with a hint of resentnt. "You let him out?"
The way he said it made it sound like Shane Lester had been in prison. Holly Winslow rubbed her forehead against his chin and said with a grin, "Did you crawl out of a vinegar factory or sothing? Shane and I..."
eting Mortir Quincy’s dark gaze, she swallowed the two words "Shane Lester" and changed her tune. "It was really nothing."
She looked up, gave him a kiss, and placated the king of jealousy. "I’m not the hot commodity here. My husband is."
The "hot commodity" snorted in satisfaction. "Hmph. Don’t ntion his na in the future. Otherwise, not even ten wives would be enough to placate your husband."
Holly Winslow: "..."
’Ten wives? Why not just get a whole harem while he’s at it?’
She stuck out her tongue. "Quincy the Puppy, in your dreams."
"Go get my textbook. I need to prep for class. There was a problem today that I couldn’t even solve. Quincy the Puppy, hurry up and explain it to ."
Mortir Quincy’s mind was still completely occupied with how to properly settle accounts. Hearing this, his handso face darkened.
’She wants to explain a problem now?’
’Not unless that Shane Lester nuisance didn’t exist.’
Seeing him sit there motionless, Holly Winslow "fiercely" poked his abs with her foot. "Quincy the Puppy, do you really want to sleep in the guest room?"
Mortir Quincy, threatened with the guest room: "..."
He got up, went to the study to get her textbook, and returned. Helpless yet patient, he asked, "Which one?"
Holly Winslow imdiately sat up straight, quickly flipped open the textbook, and pointed to a problem. "This one on basic inequalities. It’s totally insane."
Before Mortir Quincy could say a word, she pouted and complained, "Basic inequalities, basic inequalities! I always ss up on basic inequalities. Tomorrow, I’m going to get a banner with the basic inequalities printed on it and hang it up at ho."
"If I still can’t get it next ti, then I’m a pig."
This ti, he was genuinely amused, laughing nonstop as if soone had hit his funny bone.
’A banner of basic inequalities hanging in the house?’
Thinking about the aftereffects of his wife copying out the "Free and Easy Wanderer," he laughed even harder.
Holly Winslow: "..."
Annoyed by his strange sense of humor, she took out her phone, snapped a picture of him, and planned to send it to that scoundrel Mortir Quincy to show him his current "ugly face."
For the second ti that day, her finger slipped. She sent it to Wyatt Winslow because he had just sent her a ssage, and she reacted before she could think.
"..."
She was just about to recall the ssage when Wyatt Winslow replied with a single "Mm."
She: "..."
’Whenever Wyatt Winslow didn’t know what to reply, he would just send "Mm." It was probably his way of saying he’d seen the ssage.’
She couldn’t hold back her laughter anymore and collapsed onto Mortir Quincy’s shoulder, convulsing with mirth. She showed the phone to him. "Honey, Dad’s being dismissive of your good looks."
Mortir Quincy glanced at it, looking quite pleased. "It’s fine. My looks are on point."
Holly Winslow: "..."
...
Holly Winslow was a woman of action. The very next day, she went to a print shop and printed out a dozen sheets with basic inequality formulas.
a² b² ≥ 2ab (a, b ∈ R)
ab ≤ (a² b²) / 2 (a, b ∈ R)
a b ≥ 2√ab (a, b ∈ R⁺)
ab ≤ [(a b) / 2]² (a, b ∈ R⁺)
When Mortir Quincy ca ho, he saw them posted in the bathroom, the living room, next to the TV... basically, anywhere a sheet of paper could be stuck.
"..."
’This wasn’t the first ti sothing like this had happened. In her past life, she had plastered vocabulary words all over the house and insisted they only speak in English every day.’
’Sotis, he felt his wife was a little too conscientious about her job as a teacher.’
He looked over at Holly Winslow, who was grading papers at that mont. Judging by the grim look on her face, she must have been grading a paper from a student who clearly hadn’t used their brain. He said, "Honey, are you sure morizing them will work?"
Holly Winslow looked up at him. "..."
’She wanted to throw her husband downstairs, cover him up, and give him a few good stomps.’
’That shouldn’t be too much to ask.’
"Thinking about kicking ?" Mortir Quincy raised an eyebrow, having apparently guessed her thoughts.
Her thoughts guessed yet again, Holly Winslow fell silent. "..."
The next second, she burst out in embarrassed anger, "Can you stop guessing what I’m thinking? It’s really too much."
’His wife was about to blow her top.’ Mortir Quincy quickly tried to placate her, going along with what she said. "Okay, I won’t guess next ti."
Holly Winslow hissed at him, then went back to grading papers. A few seconds later, she suddenly announced, "I’m not sleeping until I finish grading all these papers tonight."
Mortir Quincy understood. She was clearly hinting that he should help her grade, or else no one was getting any sleep tonight.
He resignedly sat down next to her and started grading, marking several cold, red X’s.
Holly Winslow glanced over and quickly stopped him. "If there are too many wrong answers, don’t mark the X’s. Just put checkmarks on the correct ones."
"Mm," Mortir Quincy picked up a paper, flipped through it, and added, "Saves ink that way, too."
Holly Winslow: "..."
Unexpectedly, this grading session turned into a multi-day affair. First, it was the monthly exam papers, then the weekly quiz papers, then the final exam papers, and finally, the pop quiz papers that Holly Winslow had made herself.
Never mind that scoundrel Mortir Quincy being unhappy about it; Holly Winslow herself was so sick of grading papers she wanted to throw up. Whenever she felt like this, the only way to regulate her mood was to buy a couple of new outfits.
For New Year’s Day, Holly Winslow took two compensatory days off, which, combined with the holiday, gave her a total of three days.
Mortir Quincy’s company also gave them three days off for New Year’s Day and the weekend, and they even gave out a New Year’s bonus of one thousand yuan.
This made Holly Winslow, who had only received a bag of rice, "green with envy." Before she could even ask for a cut of the bonus, that scoundrel automatically stuffed it into her pocket.
The night they went back ho, their two families had dinner out together, with Holly Winslow treating them using Mortir Quincy’s bonus money.
It was already past eight by the ti dinner was over. The sky was completely dark, but the two streetlights at the entrance to their residential complex cast a bright glow over the area.
The elderly security guard at the gate was practicing Tai Chi. When he saw them return, he continued his movents while saying with a cheerful laugh, "Out for dinner?"
Out of the whole group, Holly Winslow was the most talkative. She smiled and replied, "That’s right! Have you eaten yet, Grandpa Langdon?"
User Comments
0 comments from readers