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Chapter 123: Chapter 123: So Fierce It’s Strangely Kissable

Suddenly, the phone rang. It was Wyatt Winslow.

She quickly gestured to Mortir Quincy, then answered the call. "Dad, my throat’s fine. So dust just blew into my mouth. Yeah, we’re on our way. You don’t have to pick us up; we’ll be ho soon."

She hung up and urged, "Let’s hurry ho. Dad’s rushing ."

It was already half-past nine when they arrived ho. Holly Winslow looked at the steaming hot dishes on the table and froze for a mont. "Dad, you haven’t eaten yet?"

"I got ho a little late."

Wyatt Winslow ladled a bowl of soup and handed it to her. "Have so soup."

There were two sets of bowls and chopsticks on the table; he was clearly waiting to eat with her. Holly Winslow’s heart ached with warmth. She reached out and hugged him, cooing, "Dad, you’re the best. And as it happens, I’m still hungry."

Wyatt Winslow’s expression softened. "Go on, drink up."

One drank her soup while the other ate his al, their two figures seeming to soften under the warm light.

...

Mortir Quincy passed the written portion of his driving test and imdiately signed up for the practical exam. A few days later, he passed that as well.

At this rate, he would have his license in a month.

Holly Winslow’s math scores were slowly creeping up, a few points at a ti. Robert Nolan called Wyatt Winslow after every practice test to report her results.

One day, Mortir Quincy ca to pick Holly Winslow up after class. As they were walking side by side, he suddenly noticed she had grown a bit. Before, she barely reached his shoulder, but now she was a little taller.

His gaze drifted down to her chest. He pinched his chin, thought for a mont with great seriousness, and asked, "Wife, why aren’t they growing yet?"

Holly Winslow didn’t get it at first. "What isn’t growing yet?"

Then she followed his gaze to her own chest. "..."

She kicked him irritably. "Quincy the Rogue."

’I’ve already gone up a cup size, okay?!’

’That oblivious Quincy the Blind.’

Seeing her flustered and angry, Mortir Quincy let out a low chuckle. He took her hand and said, "As long as they’re my wife’s, I love them no matter the size."

Holly Winslow: "..."

’You! Fucking! Son! Of! A! Bitch! Mortir! Quincy!’

She shot back furiously, "You’re the one who’s small! You’re small from top to bottom!"

In response to his wife’s slander, Mortir Quincy raised an eyebrow and said in a nonchalant tone, "Wanna test that tonight?"

Holly Winslow: "..."

On the way ho, the "Little Fairies" group chat started buzzing.

Iris Kensington: Anna, have you done a lot of your sumr howork?

Anna Willow: Haven’t started yet. I’m planning to do it all in the last ten days.

I’ve been reading a novel recently, and the male lead is the spitting image of our handso cousin-in-law: a top student, gorgeous, and the stoic, aloof type.

I was grinning like a fool when he kissed the female lead.

Iris Kensington: If you haven’t started, then I can relax and slack off with a clear conscience. Let

know when you decide to start working on it.

What’s the novel? I want to read it. I haven’t found any good ones lately.

Anna Willow: My Aloof Husband is a Top Student.

When Holly Winslow saw the words "My Aloof Husband is a Top Student," she nearly choked on her own spit. ’That title really does fit Mortir Quincy perfectly.’ She typed: You guys, stop reading novels and do your howork. Otherwise, you’ll be rushing to finish it in the last day or two again.

Iris Kensington replied confidently: Nah, we’ve got plenty of ti.

Anna Willow chid in: I think so too.

No rush, no rush. We just have to hold out, and we’ll conquer this sumr break.

Holly Winslow: ...

Get to work, now. Or I swear I’ll take you both down.

Iris Kensington: Holly, you’re so vicious! Does your boyfriend know? ??????

Holly Winslow was about to reply when a large, well-defined hand pressed the voice ssage button: "I know. And I like it a lot."

Holly Winslow: "..."

Anna Willow: !!!

Iris Kensington: !!!

Holly Winslow didn’t reply to them. She pocketed her phone and gave Mortir Quincy a "fierce" glare. "How am I vicious??"

Mortir Quincy reached out and poked her pouting lips. "This part is fierce," he said seriously. "So fierce it makes

want to kiss it."

"..." Holly Winslow was silent.

She held it in for over ten seconds before she finally broke into a laugh. "Husband, you’re ridiculous," she said, exasperated.

"Want to be the antidote?"

Mortir Quincy leaned in close. Holly Winslow pinched his cheek without hesitation and joked, "It’d be best if you ’died from the poison.’ Then I could get a new husband."

"Daydreaming before the sun’s even set," Mortir Quincy said, pointing at the blue sky.

...

The tutoring sessions ended the day before school registration. Holly Winslow’s scores on her recent math practice tests were all hovering around 130 points.

After a two-month sumr vacation, Holly Winslow finally had a day to herself. She slept in until nine, then went to the kitchen to heat up so porridge and leftovers, scrolling through her phone as she ate.

Holly Baby: Not up yet?

Hm?

Lazy wifey.

The ssages were from ten minutes ago.

She huffed and replied: You’re the lazy pig.

A mont later, Mortir Quincy called her. "Get dressed. We’re going to the movies."

Holly Winslow’s eyes lit up, and she nodded happily. "Okay."

After hanging up, she quickly finished her porridge and went to her bedroom to change. She tried on two or three outfits before finally deciding on one.

A blue floral dress, paired with brown sandals.

Finally, she put her hair up in a bun.

Suddenly, her phone rang. It was Iris Kensington. Getting a call from her the day before school registration, Holly had a strange, bad feeling.

And sure enough.

The mont the call connected, Iris Kensington’s desperate plea ca through. "Holly, help ! Save our howork! I still have three workbooks left to do, and so does Anna!"

Holly Winslow: "..."

She agonized for a few seconds before sighing. "Just co over."

Not long after, there was a knock. She hurried to open the door. The young man standing outside was wearing a blue-and-white striped T-shirt, knee-length shorts, and white canvas sneakers.

She rubbed her nose sheepishly. "Husband, I can’t go anymore," she said, stepping aside to let him in.

Mortir Quincy didn’t seem to have much of a reaction. "What’s wrong? Did your dad say no?"

Holly Winslow shook her head and said ekly, "No, it’s Ellie. She wants

to help her rush through her howork."

"How much is left?" Mortir Quincy asked.

"Six workbooks, I think."

Holly Winslow herself used to be part of the great army of students who pulled all-nighters to finish their howork. The last day of every vacation was always a mad dash for survival.

’Six workbooks?’

Mortir Quincy, who had never once had to rush his howork in his life: "..."

He gave her a comically grief-stricken look.

Holly Winslow tugged on the corner of his shirt, trying to placate him. "Husband, I’ll treat you to a movie next ti. This ti... ahem... you can help

with the howork instead."

Seeing he still looked displeased, she stood on her tiptoes and gave him a quick kiss. "My husband’s the best."

That seed to do the trick. Mortir Quincy wrapped an arm around her waist and kissed her back. "I’ll call a few more people to help. Let’s go to my place."

’Six workbooks... even just copying the answers would probably take four people all night.’

"Really?" Holly Winslow’s eyes lit up.

Mortir Quincy nodded, then took out his phone and tagged everyone in his dorm’s group chat: "All-nighter at my place."

The dorm chat instantly blew up.

Pantheon: AHHHHH!! ON MY WAY!!

Zeke Zane: Be right there. I’ll bring drinks.

Paul Powell: I’m at an internet cafe rn, be there in half an hour.

Boris Owens: I’ll bring snacks. Where’s Mortir Quincy’s place?

Zeke Zane: I know the way. Follow .

Wait, Mortir Quincy, you have that many computers at your house?

Mortir Quincy raised an eyebrow and replied calmly: I’ll go buy so now.

’Pens.’

Of course, he didn’t send that last word.

Everyone: ...

Paul Powell: Damn, what a whale! I’m coming right now, AHHHHH! I get to play on a new computer!

Mortir Quincy: Don’t be late.

’Scholar Quincy really lives up to his na,’ Holly thought. ’He can lie without even blushing.’ She imagined that Pantheon and the others might actually cry when they found out they were pulling an all-nighter to do howork, not to play gas.

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