Reborn with My Genius Husband-Chapter 140: So, Are You Pregnant?
It was clearly a normal sentence, but Gabe Chaucer felt he heard a hint of flirtation.
*Cough.* ’My professional standards as a teacher are a bit low.’
He didn’t dare look his star student in the eye and explained, "This is the school’s decision. There’s nothing I can do. But if you’re unwilling, I’ll talk to the principal later."
It really was the school’s idea; they just wanted to help as many students as they could.
Besides, the school had given him a quota: at least twenty students from the "Rocket Class" had to get into top-tier universities.
Mortimer Quincy pursed his lips, his expression genuinely souring. If the school insisted on the seat change, he wouldn’t be able to refuse.
Thinking of this, he grew irritated.
Gabe Chaucer naturally noticed. He pushed up his glasses and gave him a gentle wave, gesturing for him to enter the classroom.
...
Holly Winslow was just about to take a nap. Seeing Mortimer Quincy sit down with a cold expression, she glanced at the classroom door. Gabe Chaucer was already gone.
She scooted her chair a little closer to him and whispered, "Did you get chewed out? Do they need to call your parents?"
Mortimer Quincy, who had never once had his parents called to school in his entire life: "..."
"The school wants us to change seats."
He’d considered that they might be separated if their relationship was discovered, but he never imagined they’d be separated for having good grades.
Holly Winslow assumed the school was trying to enforce a policy of separating boys and girls. She tried to comfort him, "It’s fine. We’re still in the same class—"
Her voice trailed off as she met Mortimer Quincy’s deep, dark gaze, and she meekly shut her mouth.
A dozen or so seconds later, she came up with a plan. "How about I go talk to Teacher Chaucer? I’ll tell him I have some kind of illness and can’t be without your care. What do you think?"
Mortimer Quincy: "..."
Damn it, she made him laugh.
He tilted his head to look at her. "Eight months."
Just as Holly Winslow was wondering what he meant by "eight months," that rascal Mortimer Quincy raised an eyebrow and asked, "Are you pregnant?"
Holly Winslow: "..."
’Fuck you, you son of a bitch, Mortimer Quincy.’
If she were actually pregnant, she was sure he wouldn’t be joking; he’d be panicking about being cuckolded.
Zeke Zane, sitting at the desk in front of them, had hearing that was far too good. He actually heard the word "pregnant?" and whipped his head around, staring at the two in shock.
Pantheon was drawn in by his movement and also looked toward the pair.
Holly Winslow: "..."
That rascal Mortimer Quincy couldn’t be bothered to explain. He said coolly, "Don’t listen to what you’re not supposed to hear. Turn back around."
Zeke Zane: "..."
’So she’s really pregnant?’
’She’s pregnant.’
Holly Winslow could tell at a glance that he had misunderstood. She gave Mortimer Quincy a warning kick under the desk, then waved her hands at Zeke Zane to explain, "Not yet."
The moment the words left her mouth, she felt something was off.
But she couldn’t quite put her finger on what it was.
Zeke Zane: "..."
’So you guys have... done it.’
Pantheon looked completely baffled. "What ’not yet’?"
Mortimer Quincy couldn’t hold back his mirth. He propped his chin on his hand and looked with amusement at his stunned ’wife.’ "Mm, not yet. I’ll get you pregnant later."
Holly Winslow: "..."
She belatedly realized what was wrong. Her words made it sound like she and Mortimer Quincy had slept together. She waved her hands frantically. "We haven’t... you know."
Before she could finish, her confidence faltered. She and Mortimer Quincy had done... everything.
A few seconds later, she gave up on explaining and changed the subject. "I’m going to do my homework."
Zeke Zane: "..."
’Is that a confession?’
’Holy shit, holy shit!’
His pupils dilated, and for a moment, he didn’t know what to say.
He had just barely managed to digest the fact that Mortimer Quincy had a girlfriend, and now he was being told that they had... done it.
They were all born in the same year, so why was Mortimer Quincy always several steps ahead of them?
Finally, he turned back around.
Pantheon, having watched a scene that made no sense to him, found it uninteresting and laid his head on his desk to sleep.
Holly Winslow reached out and pinched Mortimer Quincy’s waist, giving it a hard twist. Her almond-shaped eyes went wide as she hissed through gritted teeth, "Are you insane?"
"My bad."
Mortimer Quincy apologized with a low chuckle, his attitude clearly insincere.
Seeing his ’wife’s’ eyes grow wider, he raised a hand to soothe her, patting her head. "Holly, go to sleep. You’re smarter after you get some sleep." After saying that, he couldn’t help but let out another low laugh.
’Suddenly, I wish we could go back to middle school,’ he thought. ’I could see even more of my dazed and adorable ’wife’.’
Holly Winslow: "..."
She flopped onto her desk, turning her head away from him.
While the young couple was busy with their public display of affection, Gabe Chaucer went to find the head teacher of Class 6 to discuss something. He said half-jokingly, "Teacher Shaw, I’m afraid there’s something wrong with the students in your class."
The Class 6 head teacher stopped his lesson planning, looking puzzled. "What’s wrong? Were they talking in class again?"
Gabe Chaucer shook his head. "Mortimer Quincy from my class said he saw some of your students climbing over the wall a few days ago."
The Class 6 head teacher paused for a moment. Connecting this to the recent rumors about Mortimer Quincy, his thoughts quickly aligned with Gabe Chaucer’s.
He said grimly, "I’ll handle this. Don’t worry, Teacher Chaucer."
Gabe Chaucer didn’t say anything more. After all, they shared an office, so he had to give him some face. "I’ll leave it to you then, Teacher Shaw."
Neither of them guessed that the male lead in this incident, Mortimer Quincy, was not the least bit innocent.
He really had been kissing a girl in the corner.
...
「That afternoon, during study hall.」
Class 6
The Class 6 head teacher stood at the podium, scanning the students below. "Which two ’heroes’ climbed the wall? Stand up so everyone can get to know you."
When no one stood up, he resorted to a classic teacher’s tactic.
The bluff.
"I suppose you all didn’t know there are cameras along the school wall. I already know who the two people are. It’s just a matter of whether you’ll confess on your own."
"I’ll count to three. If you don’t stand up voluntarily, I’ll start calling names and send you directly to the dean’s office for a major demerit."
The entire class was dead silent, and a hint of nervousness filled the air. The students looked around at each other.
The Class 6 head teacher: "One."
"Two."
Seeing that still no one had stood up, he paused for a moment before continuing, "Three."
Before the sound of "three" had even faded, over a dozen boys shot to their feet in unison.
The whole class: "..."
The atmosphere grew a little quiet.
One of the boys quickly sat back down, but it was too late. The head teacher had already seen him.
The Class 6 head teacher felt like smoke was about to pour out of his ears. He never expected his bluff would expose so many wall-climbers.
He pointed toward the door and said angrily, "Get out to the field and run twenty laps."
The dozen or so boys who had stood up meekly filed out the back door.
Running on such a hot day was pure torture. After just one lap, their foreheads were drenched in sweat.
One of the boys, panting, roared, "Who the fuck got caught and dragged me down with them?! I just remembered, I didn’t even climb the damn wall this week!"
"And another thing! What cameras?! There are no damn cameras!"
They ran for more than half of study hall but only managed five laps. By dinnertime, a crowd had gathered to watch them run.
In stark contrast to their miserable state, the couple who had been kissing in the corner was now sitting openly in the cafeteria, eating dinner.
Holly Winslow picked out the vegetables she didn’t like and placed them in Mortimer Quincy’s bowl. On the third time, a certain someone tapped his chopsticks.
She giggled and put the food in his bowl anyway. "Eating more greens is good for you."
’My ’wife’ is a smooth talker,’ Mortimer Quincy thought, not falling for it. The corners of his eyes lifted. "Are you going to eat it yourself, or should I feed it to you?"
Chase Hawkins, who had poor composure, heard this and sprayed a mouthful of rice. "COUGH, COUGH, COUGH."
