Chapter 108: Chapter 108: The PE Teacher Will Get Sick
On Friday, the comprehensive exam results ca out. Mortir Quincy’s score was the sa as last ti, but Holly Winslow’s was over twenty points lower, at only 702. Despite this, her rank rose to second in their year, largely thanks to her perfect score in English.
They were the only two who scored above 700 this ti.
Zeke Zane was ranked third with a score of 683.
Pantheon remained in fourth place with 679.
The English exam was difficult this ti, so the gap between their scores narrowed a bit.
This was a huge blow for the perpetually second-place Zeke Zane. He was thoroughly dejected. He’d been beaten by Mortir Quincy in middle school, he was still being beaten by him in high school, and now he was even getting beaten by Mortir Quincy’s girlfriend.
He was developing a complex—about everything related to Mortir Quincy.
Pantheon, on the other hand, had completely recovered from his own results. Fourth place was fourth place; at least he hadn’t dropped in rank. He looked at Zeke Zane, who was sprawled on his desk, and let out a loud "HAHA." "Yo, Mr. Perennial Second Place—oh wait, no, Third Place. What’s wrong? Tell
all about it so I can have a good laugh."
"Get lost." Zeke Zane couldn’t be bothered with him.
During the awards assembly, Mortir Quincy received another 3,000 yuan cash prize. It was enough to make anyone burn with envy, but he was so far ahead that jealousy felt pointless.
Holly Winslow’s spirits soared. She counted on her fingers. ’Eight exams a year... by this ti next year, that’ll be over twenty thousand.’
She poked Mortir Quincy in the chest and winked. "Not bad, hubby. Keep it up, and try to earn enough for my tuition."
’A husband earning his wife’s tuition money... that doesn’t sound half bad,’ Mortir thought. He nodded in agreent. "Alright, I’ll earn your tuition money for you this year."
"So how many stars does that earn
in kisses from my wife? Hmm? I don’t accept anything less than a five-star rating."
Holly Winslow was speechless.
She raised a fist, trying to look fierce. "You want
to smack you?"
Mortir Quincy raised an eyebrow. "With your little love fists?"
Holly Winslow was speechless.
’Love fists my ass.’
...
With the results out, it was ti to rearrange the seating according to rank.
Holly Winslow still sat next to Mortir Quincy. This ti, they chose seats in the third row of the middle section, right under a ceiling fan.
Zeke Zane and Pantheon resolutely refused to sit behind the couple, choosing the seats in front of them instead. Behind Mortir and Holly were Luna Lynch and Chase Hawkins. Originally, Paul Powell had been in Chase’s seat.
However, just as Paul Powell sat down, Gabe Chaucer gave him a long look, as if he’d noticed sothing. He said unsparingly, "Paul Powell, you go sit in front of Pantheon. Look at your score. You still want to sit in the back? Are you aiming to be in the last row by the final exams?"
Paul Powell, who hadn’t even had a chance to privately celebrate his new seat, was speechless.
Under Old Shaw’s tyranny, he sullenly sat down in front of Pantheon, ascending to the dreaded "throne of death" in the front row.
Pantheon and Zeke Zane simultaneously glanced back at Mortir Quincy and Holly Winslow, roaring internally: ’Old Shaw, the couple is behind us! Break *them* up already!’
’All they do is flaunt their relationship.’
Gabe Chaucer t their gazes, confused. He issued a stern warning, "You lot, no talking in class. If I catch you, I’m calling your parents."
Pantheon and Zeke Zane were speechless.
The breeze from the fan felt amazing. Holly Winslow tilted her head back, stray strands of hair fluttering around her ears. "Wow, this is so refreshing."
Mortir Quincy propped his chin on one hand, watching her with a low chuckle. "Then we’ll sit here from now on."
Holly Winslow turned her head to look at him. He had lost so of the boyish immaturity he’d had when she first t him last year, and his features had grown more defined. His skin was perfect—so perfect it made her a little envious.
It was as if a pimple had never once dared to appear on his face.
She, on the other hand, had recently sprouted a pimple on her forehead. "Mortir," she said.
Seeing Holly staring at him so intently, Mortir Quincy assud she was about to say sothing sweet. He tilted his chin up slightly. "Hmm?"
"I heard that people who don’t get pimples aren’t really human." Holly Winslow pointed to the pimple on her forehead. "It’s true," she added.
’Not human?’
Mortir Quincy was speechless.
’Damn it, that was so ridiculous he had to laugh.’
He leaned in close, his eyes fixed on her as he enunciated each word. "Then does that an my dear wife is sleeping with a ghost?"
Holly Winslow was speechless.
She choked on her own saliva, turning her head and coughing violently.
’Damn, he really knew how to say the most shocking things.’
She pinched his side. "Are you a pervert, Lawyer Quincy?"
Unfazed by the small hand on his side, Mortir Quincy shrugged, a roguish look on his face. "Lawyers are n too. We also have... needs."
Before he could finish his sentence, she clapped a hand over his mouth.
Chase Hawkins couldn’t hear what they were saying, but he could tell the "cousins" in front of him were being awfully lovey-dovey.
’Like a couple.’
’So sweet it’s sickening.’
Seeing his expression, Pantheon smirked. He leaned over and shouted across Mortir and Holly to Chase Hawkins, "Quincy! How’s it feel? Making you need a trip to the bathroom?" He burst out laughing.
Chase Hawkins shot him a look that said, "Are you crazy?" "My kidneys are perfectly fine, thank you! Unlike you, Mr. Weak Bladder, who probably goes eight tis a day."
"Pfft! My kidneys are perfectly strong! We all know who the weak one is here," Pantheon shouted back.
Holly Winslow, however, was still stuck on the phrase "eight tis a day," and her mind went straight to the gutter.
That was one of Scholar Quincy’s favorite things to say after they were married.
’With a body like your husband’s, seven tis a night is no problem. At least eight.’
She couldn’t help but glance at Mortir Quincy. ’So this guy had already learned plenty back in high school.’
Mortir, who completely missed her train of thought, was so exasperated by her look that he could only be speechless. "..."
’What was that look from my wife supposed to an?’
’That I’m the one with weak kidneys?’
Just as he was about to defend his manly pride, Luna Lynch approached Holly Winslow to ask about an English problem.
Seeing his girlfriend diligently explaining the problem, Mortir Quincy’s frustration grew until his face darkened. He coldly kicked the back of Pantheon’s chair, who was still rambling on about kidneys. "Shut up."
Pantheon was baffled. "..."
’I wasn’t saying *your* kidneys were bad.’
...
The week after the seats were changed, Chase Hawkins was not having a good ti. Not at all.
The "cousins" in front of him were constantly being lovey-dovey, periodically engaging in so baffling, couple-like behavior.
The "cousins" in front of him were getting handsy again. The guy pinched the girl’s cheek, and the girl pinched the guy’s cheek.
He glanced at Luna Lynch, who was focused on a worksheet. "Ms. Lynch, don’t you think they’re a bit much?"
Luna Lynch, seemingly resigned to him calling her Ms. Lynch, pushed up her glasses helplessly. "It’s perfectly normal."
’Is she implying that *I’m* the one who isn’t normal?’
Chase Hawkins was speechless.
He was thrown into a spiral of self-doubt.
"Quincy!" Paul Powell, from the front row, raised a fist and shot him a glare, warning him not to get any ideas about Luna Lynch.
Chase Hawkins was speechless.
He rolled his eyes in exasperation. If he was going to fall for soone, it would be a cute, sweet, and pretty girl like his "cousin."
He then glanced up at the clock. It was 2:05, five minutes before the next class. He yelled to Zeke Zane and Pantheon, "It’s almost ti for P.E.! Let’s go play ball! Play ball!"
Zeke Zane and Pantheon both rolled their eyes at him before returning to their worksheets.
’After scores like these on the monthly exam,’ they thought, ’there’s a good chance P.E. will be replaced by another class.’
Chase Hawkins went to the back of the room to grab a basketball. When he saw they still hadn’t moved, he said, "You’ll never finish all those worksheets. Let’s play ball! Play ball!"
Zeke Zane rolled his eyes at him, not looking up from his paper. "Kid, take so advice from your old man and just stay put."
"The P.E. teacher is about to ’get sick,’" Pantheon chid in.
Chase Hawkins was speechless.
Holly Winslow was amused. ’So the P.E. teacher "getting sick" is a universal affliction at all schools.’
Just then, Gabe Chaucer walked in. He picked up the chalkboard eraser and slapped it against the lectern. Once the students had settled down and gone quiet, he announced, "Your P.E. teacher has fallen ill, so I’ll be taking over this period. Take out your textbooks and review. I’ll be calling on students randomly during the lesson."
The entire class: "..."
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