Probably because she had won the award, lody Shaw and the others didn’t ask her to join them for lunch. Holly Winslow watched them leave the office. While it would be a lie to say she didn’t care, it wasn’t enough to make her unhappy.
She cheerfully called Mortir Quincy. "Hey, honey, I’m treating you to Korean food."
There was a Korean restaurant downstairs that was very expensive, costing around five or six hundred yuan for a al.
After Mortir Quincy took her there once, she had adamantly refused to go again. Ahem. So later, Mortir would just get it as takeout and bring it up to her.
Out of sight, out of mind.
Mortir Quincy, who was just about to head down, raised an eyebrow when he heard what she said.
’His wife is offering to treat him to a al. It’s probably either good news or she needs a favor. But judging by her cheerful tone, it’s ninety-nine point nine percent good news.’
Connecting it to what she had said about the teacher selection process, he had a pretty good idea what it was about.
He pretended not to know, playing along with his wife’s little happy mont. "Why’s that?"
"I’ll tell you in a bit," Holly Winslow said teasingly from the other end of the line.
The mont Mortir Quincy ca downstairs, his wife gave him a rare public hug. Then, she patted her pocket smugly and whispered, "Honey, I got my prize money."
"Ten thousand."
"Look at you, my little sugar mama."
Mortir Quincy dotingly patted her head. "Well, wife, I guess I’ll have to count on you to support from now on."
Holly Winslow lifted her chin and said magnanimously, "No problem. I’m your wife, after all."
"It’s only natural for a wife to support her husband."
Mortir Quincy let out a low chuckle. "Alright then, let’s go, my wife." As he spoke, he opened his overcoat and pulled her into his arms.
The Korean al ended up costing them 680 yuan. Holly Winslow’s eyes widened. As she took out the cash, she "complained" to an innocent Mortir Quincy, "Honey, you ate too much! I don’t care, you have to cover half of this with your allowance."
Mortir Quincy glanced at the stack of plates in front of her, then said with a straight face, "I guess I did eat a bit too much by accident. Mm, my treat, honey." With that, he took out a card and handed it to the server.
Holly Winslow snatched his card, handed cash to the server instead, and then said to Mortir Quincy, "Confiscated."
"It was always yours to begin with," Mortir Quincy said, handing her a napkin to wipe her mouth.
The server, who had been working there for three or four years and had seen hundreds of couples, had never seen a pair as sweet as them.
Just too sweet.
So sweet that she left their table the mont she took the paynt.
As the final exams approached, Holly Winslow’s ti as an intern teacher ca to an end. She formally submitted her resignation to the institution.
She had already spoken with Shannon Vance about it. Shannon was reluctant to see her resign and asked her to reconsider, even offering her a raise of one thousand yuan.
This was the kind of treatnt the Holly Winslow of her past life had never experienced. The lingering regret in her heart began to fade away, bit by bit.
Working hard is exhausting, but living with regret is soul-crushing.
If she didn’t have Wyatt Winslow to consider, Holly Winslow would probably choose to stay. But she would never not consider him.
Her father had once been a source of regret for her, too. He had taken care of her all by himself for so long. Now, it was her turn to take care of him.
Once Shannon Vance learned of her family situation, she felt it was a sha but didn’t try to persuade her to stay any longer. Being a drifter made one understand the feeling of hosickness all the more.
As she signed the resignation contract, she said earnestly, "Teacher Winslow, you will always be welco back at Tomorrow."
Holly Winslow gave a genuine smile. This was a form of acknowledgnt—an affirmation that she was capable.
"Thank you, Principal."
Shannon Vance wrote on her internship evaluation: *Outstanding*.
She handed it to Holly Winslow. "It doesn’t matter where you teach. Never forget why you started, and always be dedicated to guiding your students."
"They’re all standing at different crossroads, waiting for us to show them the way."
"I know," Holly Winslow nodded.
The students’ paths are the crossroads, and the teachers are the signposts. The connection is inevitable.
As if the husband was following his wife’s lead, Mortir Quincy also submitted his resignation. To retain him, his company offered him a full-ti position with a salary of eight thousand, plus room and board.
But even that wasn’t enough to make Mortir Quincy stay.
Unlike others who seed miserable when they resigned, the two of them were completely at ease, perhaps a courage born from their own excellence.
Before going ho for the New Year, Holly Winslow listed their apartnt in Branton City for sale with a real estate agency. She had already discussed this with Wyatt Winslow.
The property market had bood in recent years. They had bought it for a little over one million, and now it was worth more than two point three million, a net profit of six or seven hundred thousand. Holly Winslow transferred all the money to Wyatt Winslow.
He imdiately transferred it back to her with a note: *Don’t send it again.*
As for the apartnt Mortir Quincy had bought, they decided to keep it so they would have a place to stay whenever they visited Branton City in the future.
Walter Winslow and Joan Sawyer had already co to the county town for the New Year. They did this for Holly’s sake; after all, now that she was married, she couldn’t just stay at the Winslow family ho all the ti.
The two families lived close to each other in the county town, so it was convenient to go back and forth, making things livelier for everyone.
After dinner, just as Holly Winslow was about to grab her clothes to take a shower, she heard Wyatt Winslow say from the sofa, "You two should head back. It’s getting late."
Holly Winslow froze for a mont. She looked at Wyatt Winslow’s tense face and the way he deliberately avoided her gaze. She understood everything. Sitting down beside him, she said, "Dad, I already told Mom and Dad I’d go see them tomorrow."
It wasn’t that she considered her own father family and not Mortir Quincy’s parents; on the contrary, she cared deeply about all of them.
She and Mortir Quincy had already agreed to sleep at their respective family hos during the holidays, since the whole point of the festival was to have a lively atmosphere.
Mortir Quincy glanced at his watch. It was already past nine. He stood up and said, "Dad, just let Holly sleep here tonight. We have relatives over at my place, and it’s too noisy. She won’t be able to sleep well."
"I’m heading back now. Bye, Dad, Grandpa, Grandma."
Finally, he looked at Holly Winslow and added, "I’m heading ho, honey."
Walter Winslow and the others were reasonable people, so they didn’t try to keep him. Joan Sawyer looked at Holly, giving her a aningful glance as she advised, "Holly, go ho with Mortir. You’re back now, you should at least go see your in-laws."
To put Wyatt Winslow and the others at ease, Holly Winslow went back to the Quincy family’s ho with Mortir Quincy.
On the way, Mortir Quincy patted his wife’s head, his voice low and magnetic. "Good girl. Stick with your husband and you’ll get so cash gifts. Once you’ve collected your money, you can co back tomorrow and treat Dad and the others to barbecue."
Holly Winslow: "..."
She couldn’t help but chuckle. "Honey, I’m starting to suspect you’re a traitor to the Quincy family."
Mortir Quincy raised an eyebrow and admitted it without hesitation. "Yep, I’m a traitor. What can I do? My wife’s surna is Winslow. Our future sons and daughters will all take the Winslow na."
Holly Winslow grinned and let out a soft "Hmph." "Honey, if you don’t give a few hundred in hush money, I’m going to tell Mom and Dad you’re a traitor."
"Other than my wife, there’s really no one I’m afraid of."
Seeing her shrink back, Mortir Quincy pulled her into his arms. "You know how to snuggle into my arms in bed, but you’re scared to now?"
Holly Winslow buried her chin deeper into her scarf. "Haven’t you heard the saying? ’Buddies by day, husband and wife by night.’"
"No, wait. We’ve been married for so many years, we’re buddies at night, too."
’Another one of her classic lines,’ Mortir Quincy thought. His long, narrow eyes squinted as he said nacingly, "Hey, buddy. How about we ’work out’ together tonight?"
Holly Winslow: "..."
The two of them arrived at the Quincy residence to find it completely dark. The Quincy family wasn’t ho; they had probably gone out to play mahjong.
The Quincy family’s main form of entertainnt during the New Year holiday was, for the most part, playing mahjong.
Ahem. Surprising that the Quincy family plays mahjong, right? She had been surprised the first ti she saw it, too. ’Who knew rich people played mahjong?’ she had thought.
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