Seeing Wyatt Winslow press his lips together without a word, Joan Sawyer smiled and tugged on Walter Winslow’s arm, signaling for him to stop talking.

He knew perfectly well that his son cared about his image in front of his granddaughter, yet he kept on. If Wyatt got angry, Walter would only feel bad later.

She then changed the subject, looking toward the men’s section. "Holly, you should pick out a New Year’s outfit for Miles, too. It’s on me."

Wyatt Winslow immediately spoke up. "I’ll pay."

Holly Winslow was quite the "professional" when it came to picking clothes for Mortimer Quincy. She’d feel the pockets, then the collar, and finally even held a jacket up to her own body to size it up.

’Ahem, force of habit.’

Wyatt Winslow’s lips pressed together even more tightly.

Holly suddenly turned her head and held up the jacket in her hands. "Dad, do you like this style? You should get one. It’s really warm."

It was a simple, black padded jacket, a style that wasn’t specific to any age group, be it young or middle-aged.

Wyatt Winslow’s expression softened. "Alright."

Walter Winslow and Joan Sawyer exchanged a glance, their eyes filled with the tender love of parents.

Holly Winslow gave the salesclerk Mortimer Quincy’s and Wyatt Winslow’s sizes. "An XL and an XXL, one of each, please." She then took out her card and handed it over.

Wyatt Winslow stopped her. "I’ll pay." He handed his bank card to the salesclerk.

The clerk naturally took Wyatt Winslow’s card. The clothes for all five of them cost over four thousand in total, with Holly Winslow’s purchases alone accounting for about fifteen hundred of that.

She had bought herself a brand-new outfit from head to toe.

After dinner, Holly Winslow received a text from Mortimer Quincy, telling her to open the door and get something from him.

The two of them hadn’t seen each other in days, and it would be a lie to say Holly didn’t miss him. She ran to the bathroom to quickly fix her hair before going to open the door.

Wyatt and the others glanced over. Wyatt already knew exactly who it was and wasn’t surprised in the least.

The first thing Mortimer Quincy noticed was Holly Winslow’s newly styled hair. Her face was already small, and the perm seemed to make it look even smaller, though it also made her look a bit more mature.

’At least she doesn’t look like a high schooler anymore.’

He chuckled lowly and teased, "Not the Golden-Haired Lion King this time, I see."

Holly Winslow, feigning outrage, bared her teeth and gave him a light kick. "You’re the Golden-Haired Lion King! Your whole family are Golden-Haired Lion Kings!"

"Mhm, so is my wife."

Mortimer Quincy hadn’t seen her in nearly twenty days. He couldn’t resist leaning down to give her a quick kiss and said softly, "Wifey, did you miss me?"

Holly Winslow huffed, blinking her eyes. "I missed you..."

She paused, then playfully pointed at his pocket. "...missing the money in your pocket." As she spoke, she made a "money" gesture with her fingers.

’This little money-grubber is so damn cute.’

Mortimer Quincy raised his eyebrows. "Feel for it yourself."

Holly Winslow wasn’t about to fall for Quincy the Lecher’s trap. Mortimer Quincy shrugged with a hint of "disappointment" and handed her a bag. "Wifey, put on a coat and let’s go for a walk."

Holly Winslow took the bag inside and quickly came back out, putting on a thick coat right in front of Wyatt and her grandparents.

"Dad, Grandpa, Grandma, I’m heading out for a little while."

Wyatt Winslow grunted in acknowledgment.

Once Holly was out the door, Walter Winslow looked at Wyatt Winslow with disapproval. "It’s so late, and it’s not safe. How could you let Holly go out?"

Wyatt Winslow pressed his lips together. "She’s with Mortimer Quincy."

Hearing those two words, "Mortimer Quincy," Walter Winslow was visibly relieved. "Well, that’s different. That kid Mortimer is reliable."

He had no idea that this "reliable" Mortimer Quincy had already made off with his precious granddaughter.

Wyatt Winslow pressed his lips together, then pressed them again, and finally went back to reading his newspaper.

...

At the entrance to the community basketball court, Holly and Mortimer ran into Mason Jarvis and his mother. Mason politely called out, "Teacher Winslow."

He glanced at Mortimer Quincy, seemingly unsure of what to call him. Holly Winslow smiled and said, "This is Mortimer. Just call him ’Brother’."

Mortimer Quincy raised an eyebrow. ’Brother?’

Mason Jarvis nodded and called out awkwardly, "Brother."

Mortimer Quincy nodded.

Mason Jarvis’s mother was well aware of their relationship—ahem, pretty much the whole neighborhood knew about it.

She smiled. "You two are out for a walk as well?"

Strangely enough, no one in the community criticized Mortimer Quincy and Holly Winslow for dating so young. On the contrary, everyone thought they were a great couple.

They had become the "kids from next door" that every parent dreamed of.

Holly Winslow smiled and nodded. They chatted for a few minutes before parting ways.

Mortimer Quincy took Holly Winslow’s hand again and tucked it into his pocket. He raised an eyebrow. "Wifey, I’m clearly the ’venerable master’ here."

Hearing the words "venerable master," Holly Winslow couldn’t help but laugh. "Just how old are you? ’Venerable master’? Why not ’grand master’ while you’re at it?"

Mortimer Quincy glanced at her belly. "’Grand master’ is also an option, but that would require a little more... effort on my part."

Holly Winslow: "..."

’Effort, my foot!’

She enunciated every syllable, "In. Your. Wildest. Dreams."

...

On New Year’s Eve, the Quincy and Winslow families had a celebratory dinner out together. The topic of the engagement came up again, and a decision was quickly reached.

For the sake of the two kids, the adults from both families agreed to keep the engagement simple. However, the Quincy Family still observed all the proper formalities and provided the traditional gifts.

This included a house in the county town, a betrothal gift of 68,000, and the "three golds."

This all came from Mortimer Quincy’s "private stash."

Wyatt Winslow gave it all to Holly Winslow, letting her decide what to do with it.

After the engagement, besides a new ring on her finger, life went on as usual.

The high school and middle school terms began, and Holly Winslow’s month of tutoring for the Jacobs Family came to an end. The family paid her two thousand five hundred.

Holly Winslow waved the red bills in front of Mortimer Quincy’s face, gloating, "Call me ’Her Majesty, the Missus,’ and I’ll give you an allowance."

"Her Majesty, the Missus," Mortimer Quincy called out cooperatively.

Holly Winslow’s eyes curved into crescents as she smiled, and she stuffed all the money into his pocket. "Here you go."

"How many months is this for?" Mortimer Quincy asked, a smile playing on his lips as he watched her.

Holly Winslow thought about it seriously for a moment, then said half-jokingly, "How about for a year?"

"A whole year, huh?"

Mortimer Quincy leaned in close to her and murmured, "That’s fine by me. When I get hungry, I’ll just have to ’nibble’ on my wife."

Holly Winslow: "..."

’You old lecher.’

Jarton Second High had contacted Holly Winslow before the New Year, inviting her to give a speech when the term started.

On the day of the speech, Holly Winslow and Mortimer Quincy went to Jarton Second High early in the morning. It wasn’t yet second period, and classes were in session all over the school.

The two of them began to wander around the campus. On a display board, they found a photo of Holly Winslow under the heading: "Outstanding Alumna."

Seeing her own picture there was understandable, Holly thought. After all, she had been a student at Jarton Second High.

But seeing that rascal Mortimer Quincy’s picture up there was a little harder to comprehend.

’Has Scholar Quincy ’married into’ Jarton Second High or something?’

Their photos were in the same row, both with red backgrounds.

’At first glance, they kind of looked like marriage certificate photos.’

Just as she was thinking that, Mortimer Quincy, who was standing beside her, pointed at the display. "Wifey, don’t they look like marriage certificate photos?"

Holly Winslow huffed and refused to admit it. "You wish!"

Mortimer Quincy took out his phone, snapped a picture of the display board, and then posted it to his feed with the caption: Wedding photo.

Pantheon: I suspect Jarton Second High is openly encouraging students to date. I’m going to report them.

Zeke Zane: Like reporting them would do any good. The dean of students used to catch them all the time back in the day.

Pantheon: ...

Boris Owens: For crying out loud, I’ve already broken up with three girlfriends, and you two are still here flaunting your relationship.

Pantheon: ...

Zeke Zane: ...

When Holly Winslow saw Boris Owens’s reply, she looked at Mortimer Quincy curiously and asked in a gossipy tone, "Didn’t Boris just get a girlfriend? How did they break up already?"

Mortimer Quincy put his phone away and said casually, "You’re thinking of the one before last."

Holly Winslow: "..."

"Hubby, you guys are such players."

Mortimer Quincy: "..."

’What the hell? How did I get blamed for this?’

He said, enunciating each word, "Wifey, you’re asking for a kissing."