Chapter 79: Chapter 79: The Wife is Free and Easy Wandering, so the Husband is Ode to the Red Cliffs
Seeing her grinding her teeth, too afraid to retort, a flicker of amusent crossed Mortir Quincy’s eyes. He raised an eyebrow and leaned closer to Holly Winslow. "That son of a bitch, Mortir Quincy? Or was it, ’Fuck you... Mortir Quincy’?"
His wife’s repertoire of curses was limited to just a few phrases; she hadn’t added any new material in years.
Caught red-handed, Holly Winslow was speechless: "..."
’This was the downside of being married. Your husband becos a mind-reader.’
She pushed him away and denied it. "You’re overthinking things. I would never curse. I’m a teacher with professional ethics, you know."
’She would never admit it. Ahem. Every ti she cursed him, she was the one who ended up "suffering" for it.’
Mortir Quincy had long since figured out Holly Winslow’s personality. He raised an eyebrow again and bluffed, "So you did curse. Ten more copies."
Holly Winslow: "..."
’That! Son! Of! A! Bitch! Mortir! Quincy!’
’Fuck! You! Mortir! Quincy!’
"Fine, I’ll copy it. I’m not eating breakfast." With that, she started ignoring him.
’So she had been cursing him.’
The corner of Mortir Quincy’s mouth curved into a smile. As for her threat to skip breakfast, he wasn’t concerned.
’Because when his wife said sothing like that, she never ant it.’
After their study session, Mortir Quincy grabbed both of their lunch boxes. Seeing Holly Winslow still copying the classical text, apparently still sulking, he said, "Ti to eat. I’ll take five copies off your punishnt."
Holly Winslow pouted, not even looking at him. "I’m not eating."
Hearing this, Mortir Quincy decided not to waste any more words on her. He set down the lunch boxes, bent over, and swept her right into his arms.
Holly Winslow found herself airborne. She froze for a second before reacting, whispering, "Mortir Quincy! Put
down!" As she spoke, her ears turned red.
The students in the classroom who hadn’t left for lunch yet stared at the "cousins," completely bewildered.
Mortir Quincy looked down at Holly Winslow and said quietly, "So, are you eating?"
"I’ll eat!"
Holly Winslow said hastily. After he set her down, she snatched her lunch box and stord off in a huff.
Mortir Quincy followed beside her at a leisurely pace. He wanted to laugh seeing his wife’s puffy-cheeked, angry face. After a few steps, he leaned down. "Alright, alright. I won’t make you do the copies."
Holly Winslow huffed, her temper flaring. "I’m going to do them. Why should I stop just because you tell
to? I insist on doing them."
Mortir Quincy: "..."
He decided to play along. "Then you do them."
Holly Winslow: "..."
’Stupid Mortir Quincy.’
Seeing her go silent again, Mortir Quincy couldn’t help but let out a low chuckle. He reached out and patted her head. "Don’t be angry anymore. I’ll buy you so potato chips later."
’Now that’s more like it.’
Holly Winslow held up two fingers. Mortir Quincy nodded.
...
To prevent Mortir Quincy from catching any more gaps in her knowledge, Holly Winslow ended up copying "Free and Easy Wandering" twenty tis to drill it into her mory.
By the ti she was done, it was already Friday. She felt like she might blurt out, "In Boreas there is a fish, its na is Gigas," at any mont.
Every Friday, the class had to sign a safety awareness form.
After the second period, Mortir Quincy signed the form and handed it to Holly Winslow. When she handed it back, he was dumbfounded.
He was so amused he started laughing.
’His wife had signed "Free and Easy Wandering."’
The more he looked at it, the funnier it got, until he was laughing so hard his hands were shaking.
"Does Dad know that Holly changed her na?"
Holly Winslow was still a bit confused. She leaned in to take a look. Her first thought was, ’Free and Easy Wandering. Yep, that’s "Free and Easy Wandering."’
A few seconds later: "..."
She took the safety awareness form, crossed out the words "Free and Easy Wandering," and signed her own na.
Mortir Quincy leaned over and teased, "If you’re ’Free and Easy Wandering,’ then I must be ’Rhapsody on the Red Cliff.’"
Holly Winslow: "..."
’Rhapsody on your ass.’
A short while later, Gabe Chaucer ca in with the seating chart for the monthly exam, which was scheduled for the upcoming Monday and Tuesday.
To prevent cheating, Jarton High had completely randomized the seating assignnts regardless of class rank. There was no pattern to it at all. Mortir Quincy was seat 56 in Class 2, while Holly Winslow was seat 189 in Class 7.
The two classrooms weren’t even on the sa floor.
At noon, the students began tidying up their books, which were all to be stored in a row at the back of the classroom. Mortir Quincy wasn’t around at the mont; he had been called out by Gabe Chaucer.
She had just finished packing up both her and Mortir Quincy’s books when the boy with glasses in front of her said with a friendly smile, "Cousin, let
carry those for you. They look heavy."
Most of the boys in the class had followed Mortir Quincy’s lead, adopting his "familial" term of address and calling Holly Winslow "Cousin."
"No, that’s okay. I can manage it myself." Holly Winslow waved her hand, declining his offer. She didn’t want to trouble him.
The boy with the glasses was nad Maurice, a small-statured kid. He pushed his glasses up his nose. "Don’t be a stranger. You and Mortir Quincy just treated us to snacks a few days ago." After saying that, he went ahead and started helping Holly move the books.
Just then, Zeke Zane and Pantheon also ca over to help. Pantheon picked up a stack of books and said cheerfully, "Cousin, don’t stand on ceremony with us. Leave this kind of rough work to us."
His tone was a bit comical, and Holly Winslow couldn’t help but chuckle. "Well, thank you guys, then."
The advanced class had more boys than girls, and there was rarely any malicious gossip. She really liked this class.
The first thing Mortir Quincy saw when he walked in was his wife smiling sweetly at other boys. He pressed his lips together, strode over to Holly Winslow, and asked, "What’s so funny?"
His tone was dripping with jealousy.
Holly Winslow: "..."
She giggled. "Mortir Quincy, you should just go into the vinegar business. You could produce and sell it yourself. You’d probably make more money than you would as a lawyer."
"So you’re finally admitting you think I don’t make enough money," Mortir Quincy said, raising an eyebrow.
Holly Winslow poked him in the chest. "Mortir Quincy, you’re being ridiculous," she said, annoyed.
Hearing the word "ridiculous," Mortir Quincy let out a low laugh. He grabbed her hand and gave her a roguish wink. "I’ve only learned one percent of your technique."
"I am not!" Holly Winslow would never admit to being ridiculous.
Mortir Quincy leaned down, teasing, "Want
to give you a demonstration?"
He paused for a mont, then began imitating the way she acted when she was being ridiculous, pouting as he said, "Mortir Quincy, why are you back so late? Where were you drinking? Why do you sll like perfu? Where’s the button from your suit jacket? Are you seeing soone else? Are you cheating on ...?"
Mortified, Holly Winslow jumped up and clamped her hand over his mouth, hissing through gritted teeth, "Shut up! I do not do that."
’Mortir Quincy was handso and from a good background, yet he had married her at such a young age. Of course she’d get a little paranoid from ti to ti.’
’Just a tiny, tiny bit.’
Pantheon ca back after moving the books and saw the two of them flirting. He tutted twice. "Tsk, tsk. Mortir Quincy, that’s not right. We’re over here moving your books for you, and you’re in here flirting with your cousin." His voice was thick with the bitter envy of a single man.
Mortir Quincy glanced at him. "I’ll treat you guys to a gaming session after school."
"Oh, you shouldn’t have!" Pantheon laughed heartily, then quickly added, "Which internet cafe?"
At the ntion of gaming, Zeke Zane’s interest had already waned. "I’m not going."
Pantheon shot him a look, then burst out laughing again. He turned to Holly Winslow. "Cousin, that friend of yours is a real monster. She completely wrecked Zeke Zane—so badly he doesn’t even want to ga anymore."
Holly Winslow had heard about this from Anna Willow. Apparently, they had been short a player for a competitive match, and seeing that Zeke Zane was online, they invited him. He ended up dying the second the match started, forcing them to play four-on-five. And yet, they still won. It was a little demoralizing, to be fair.
She let out a wicked little giggle.
The reminder only made Zeke Zane more depressed. He irritably punched Pantheon’s arm. "You’re even worse than I am."
Pantheon nonchalantly admitted it. "So what if I’m bad? I’ve got Cousin on my side."
The mont those words left his mouth, Mortir Quincy’s eyes narrowed. "No, you don’t," he said, his voice thick with possessiveness. "I do."
Pantheon: "..."
’FUCK!!!’
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