Reborn with My Genius Husband-Chapter 156: Holly, Why Are Your Lips Swollen Again?
Holly Winslow: "..."
She lightly tapped the back of his hand with her pen, her eyes widening slightly. "Hey, I’m your wife, you know."
Mortimer Quincy chuckled, amused. He reached out and ruffled her hair. "That’s right. You’re my wife."
He paused for a moment, then added, "Wifey, want to make a bet?"
Holly Winslow knew exactly what he was going to bet on. Taking advantage of her status as his "wife," she decided to strike first. "I say the line we’re supposed to translate is the third one."
Mortimer Quincy raised an eyebrow, unable to hide the grin playing on his lips. "All right. I’ll take the first line."
"Okay. And the terms of the bet are: if you guess right, I’ll kiss you. And if I guess right... you’ll kiss me."
"..."
Mortimer was clearly trying to take advantage of her. Holly Winslow shot him an irritated glare and mouthed, "You’re shameless."
Mortimer’s shoulders shook with laughter. He whispered, "Wifey already made her pick, so the bet is on."
"Not listening, not listening, la la la!" Holly Winslow covered her ears and shook her head, then went back to her test paper.
Staring at her profile, Mortimer Quincy arched an eyebrow and suddenly said, "My little turtle wife."
Holly, the "little turtle wife": "..."
’I want to throw my husband in the school dumpster.’
’The kind you can’t fish back out.’
Soon, other students also noticed that the classical literature section didn’t have a line marked for translation. "There’s no underlined sentence in the classical literature section."
"Mine either."
"Ah, same as always. It’s either the second line or the third. I’m guessing it’s more likely to be the third."
"Let’s ask Mortimer. He guessed right last time."
Pantheon, on a mission for the entire class, had just turned around when Mortimer answered without even looking up, uttering a single word: "Third."
Pantheon, sensing the double standard: "..."
He hadn’t overheard what Mortimer and Holly were talking about, but he had recognized the sound of Mortimer’s voice.
’I get it!’
’He has a total double standard.’
He just said, "Oh," and held up three fingers for the other students to see.
Gabe Chaucer returned from his meeting, sat at the teacher’s desk to supervise them, and started working on a copy of the test paper himself.
When he got to the classical literature section and saw there was no line marked, he examined the question carefully, then tapped on his desk. "Is the line marked in the classical literature section on your papers?"
"No, it’s not!" the whole class chorused, shaking their heads.
Gabe Chaucer said, "Then why are you all so quiet about it? Don’t you want these nine points? Everyone, mark it down. It’s the third line."
Paul Powell chuckled. "Teacher Chaucer, we knew even before you told us. Mortimer already gave us the answer."
"Well then, carry on," Gabe Chaucer said, glancing with satisfaction at Mortimer, who was focused on his test paper with his head lowered.
He thought to himself, ’Having a good student like him could probably delay my balding by a few years.’
’Why did he think that, you ask?’
’Ahem, because eight out of ten teachers are balding—the classic male-pattern baldness—and one is completely bald.’
After evening study hall, Gabe Chaucer collected the test papers. "The weather’s getting colder, so use a thicker blanket and don’t catch a cold. This goes especially for the boys. During last week’s dorm inspection, I found a few of you still sleeping on summer cooling mats. You can’t just abuse your bodies because you’re young, you hear? Get those winter quilts laid out." With that, he waved them off, and they rushed toward the school store.
Mortimer snagged his runaway "wife" with one hand, a meaningful smile on his face. "Holly, where are you running?"
"You won, so I have to honor the bet."
’The hell with your bet, Quincy the Wolf!’
Holly Winslow punched him lightly with her small fist, her eyes wide. "I don’t need you to honor it! Let go of me, I have to go get hot water."
"Nope. I’m a man of my word. I won’t be able to sleep otherwise."
Mortimer pulled out his meal card and handed it to a departing Zeke Zane. "Help me fill a thermos with hot water and leave it with the dorm supervisor."
Zeke Zane: "..."
’Before, I was just the single friend forced to watch their public displays of affection. Now I have to watch their PDA *and* run errands for them.’
’Have they no decency?!’
He thought about the dirt they had on him, took the meal card, and left with Pantheon and the others.
Teachers patrolled the grove of trees, and they patrolled the athletic field, too. So Mortimer and Holly went down the path to the left of the school gate.
Usually, once the freshmen and sophomores were back in their dorms, the school would turn off the lights on this path, plunging it into darkness.
However, the streetlights from outside the school filtered through, casting faint, mottled patches of light on the ground.
Occasionally, a couple or two would pass by, but in the pitch-dark, no one could recognize anyone else unless they got right up close.
A gust of cold wind made Holly Winslow shiver. She pulled up the hood of her sweatshirt, then, with an air of complete entitlement, shoved her ice-cold hand into Mortimer’s pants pocket.
She wiggled her fingers mischievously, trying to startle him with the cold.
Mortimer’s pockets were always the warmest place to be in winter, and she loved sticking her hands in them.
The pockets of his casual pants were fine; both of her hands fit perfectly. Suit pants, on the other hand, were a no-go. Ahem, she’d already stretched out several pairs of his.
"If you keep wiggling like that, my pants are going to fall off."
Despite his words, his hand found hers in his pocket and intertwined their fingers. He added, "I was originally just thinking of a kiss, but if my wife wants to do something... else, that’s fine too."
"A little ’night action’ at school would probably be pretty thrilling."
’Night action at school...’
Holly Winslow: "..."
After a dozen seconds, she managed to choke out a few lines of classical Chinese, "Long did I sigh and hold back my tears, to see my people’s life so full of cares. Though I have loved the right and scorned the wrong, rebuked at dawn, I was dismissed at eve..."
Mortimer never expected his "wife" to start reciting classical poetry: "..."
’Damn it, she was so cute he couldn’t help but laugh.’
He let out a series of low chuckles. Just as he was about to say something, a voice called out from a short distance away, "Hey, students! Stop reciting. It’s cold, hurry back to your dorms and get to sleep."
It sounded like the security guard.
Holly Winslow: "..."
It took her a second to react, then she grabbed Mortimer and started running back up the path. She didn’t stop until they were a good distance from the gate, panting as she spoke. "That scared me to death."
"You weren’t scared to death, but our kiss is gone. So you owe me. I’ll collect interest of one kiss per day. We can settle up at the end of the month," Mortimer said, patting her back to help her catch her breath.
Holly Winslow nearly choked in exasperation: "..."
’Even a loan shark wouldn’t dare charge interest like that.’
’One a day? He might as well just rob a bank!’
She stood on her tiptoes and gave him a loud peck on the lips. "SMACK! There. Debt’s paid."
The corners of Mortimer’s lips lifted. "Doesn’t count. It only counts if *I’m* the one who kisses *you*."
Holly glared at him. "Don’t you push your... mmph."
Before she could finish, a certain someone cupped her face and sealed her lips with his own.
Their two figures moved from the dark path to the shade of a nearby tree, completely shrouded in shadow.
The occasional sound of footsteps nearly scared Holly to death, but Mortimer remained perfectly calm, nibbling and kissing her lips.
...
Holly Winslow returned to her dorm room carrying her thermos. Everyone else was already back, had washed up, and was busy with their own homework.
Valerie Walsh, on the top bunk, pulled a lollipop from under her pillow and handed it down to her. "Holly, here, have this."
"Huh? Holly, why are your lips swollen again? Is it some kind of chronic condition? Maybe you should see a doctor?"
At that, everyone in the dorm looked over. Luna Lynch pushed up her glasses. "You should put a cold compress on it."
Holly Winslow fell guiltily silent. "..."
She touched her nose awkwardly. "I’ve already seen a doctor. He said it’s a normal reaction, and I just need to be a little more careful."
"Oh, that’s so weird. I’ve never seen someone’s lips swell for no reason, especially not this often," Valerie Walsh said, staring at Holly’s mouth in pure, innocent confusion.
Jade Sullivan, who had gotten to know Holly a little better, joked, "It’s definitely from being kissed by a handsome guy, hahaha."
