Chapter 90: Chapter 90: Money Confiscated, You Don’t Get to Look
March passed, and the April weather gradually grew warr. The students were already wearing short-sleeved shirts.
Midday, during the lunch break.
The sunlight shone directly through the window on Holly Winslow’s side. She was wearing a white short-sleeved shirt with a smiley face on it, fanning herself with a scratchpad in one hand while holding a pen in the other, pondering a math problem.
Just then, a large hand took the scratchpad from her and began to gently fan her with it.
The boy’s voice, deliberately lowered, asked, "Which one are you stuck on?"
Holly Winslow turned her head. Mortir Quincy was resting on his desk, fanning her. His bangs fell over his brow, giving him a lazy, alluring look.
She huffed, then pulled out an English test paper and covered his face with it. "Don’t you try to seduce ."
"I’ve done this problem before. I should be able to figure it out if I just think for a bit."
Mortir Quincy pulled the paper away, feigning disappointnt as he lifted his eyelids slightly. He resud fanning her with the scratchpad and said seductively, "Your husband is ready, body and soul."
As he spoke, he shifted his body, resting between their two desks. "You really won’t consider showing your husband a little favor?"
’He’s being way too seductive.’
Holly Winslow couldn’t stand him acting like this. She couldn’t help but poke the tip of his nose, muttering, "Mortir Quincy, you’re such a flirt these days."
Labeled a flirt, Mortir Quincy gave a slow wink. "The mission’s not over. I must keep trying."
Holly Winslow: "..."
’I’d forgotten. This rascal Mortir Quincy has no sha.’
A few minutes later, Holly Winslow put down her pen and rested on her desk just like Mortir Quincy. The two of them just stared at each other.
Holly Winslow blinked. Mortir Quincy blinked back, then puckered his thin lips.
’Wifey, a kiss.’
Pantheon, who had accidentally witnessed this: "..."
He rolled his eyes and turned the other way to take his afternoon nap.
’My poor eyes are gonna burst.’
The sports et was starting the next day. That afternoon, the school used the self-study period to hold a eting for all first and second-year students, explaining the schedule for the next three days. The sports events would be held during the day, and evening self-study sessions would continue as usual.
After returning from dinner, Mortir Quincy saw Holly Winslow dabbing and painting sothing with glue and watercolor pens. Curious, he leaned in to get a look.
Holly Winslow quickly covered it up, then held out a hand to push him away, warning, "Mortir Quincy, no peeking! Peeking is a two-hundred-yuan fine."
In response to her soft warning, Mortir Quincy pulled two hundred yuan from his pocket. His tone was intrigued. "Let
see."
Holly Winslow was stunned speechless by Quincy the Moneybags’s two hundred yuan. When she ca to her senses, she was a little annoyed. ’I should have said a thousand.’
She took the money, stuffed it into her pocket, and said cheekily, "Money confiscated. You still don’t get to see."
Mortir Quincy: "..."
He let out a low chuckle and said fondly, "Holly, you little cheat."
"I am a little cheat."
After admitting it with a blink, Holly Winslow pushed him again. "Go do your howork."
Seeing that his wifey wouldn’t let him look, Mortir Quincy obediently took out his Math Olympiad problems and started working on them.
...
「The sports et, 8:30 AM.」
To cheer for Mortir Quincy, Holly Winslow wore a bright orange tracksuit. The color was very flattering, making her fair face look rosy and her bright eyes sparkle.
Of all the girls in the front row of the Rocket Class, Holly Winslow was easily the most eye-catching.
Mortir Quincy wore a white short-sleeved shirt, gray sweatpants, and black sh sneakers. He was standing at the front of the class line, right in front of Holly Winslow.
The principal was on the stage giving the opening speech for the sports et. He had already been talking for over twenty minutes, and he was still going.
Bored, Holly Winslow stared at Mortir Quincy’s hand hanging by his side. His knuckles were well-defined, his fingers exceptionally long and handso. His nails were trimd short, fair and clean.
Suddenly, she noticed a short strand of hair next to his pinky. It must have been his.
Holly Winslow might have had a mild case of OCD, because the more she looked at it, the more she wanted to pick it off for him.
She glanced around and didn’t see Gabe Chaucer. She reached out to pick it off, her fingers accidentally brushing against Mortir Quincy’s hand.
The next second, her hand was enveloped by his.
Mortir Quincy turned his head, gave her a aningful look, then quickly turned back, moving their clasped hands behind his back.
It was as if he were saying, ’You can hold your husband’s hand whenever you want.’
Holly Winslow: "..."
She tugged gently a couple of tis, but couldn’t pull free.
All the girls in the front row saw it and kept glancing their way.
Even though they were like an old married couple, being so public made even the thick-skinned Holly Winslow blush. Soon, her ears turned red too.
She pinched his palm, signaling for him to let go.
He didn’t let go. Instead, he traced her palm with his index finger.
’Not letting go.’
The n’s and won’s 3000-ter races were both scheduled for that morning, with the second-year boys going first.
Mortir Quincy was number six, so he was in the first heat.
The starting line was flanked by more girls than boys, the vast majority of whom were there to see Mortir Quincy.
Holly Winslow could clearly hear their excited chatter.
"AHHH!! Mortir Quincy is so handso!"
"Mortir Quincy is so tall!"
"Mortir Quincy, I love you!"
"Go, Mortir Quincy!"
...
Holly Winslow, his actual girlfriend, pouted and called out, "Mortir Quincy."
Mortir Quincy, who had been looking down and adjusting his race number, looked up at her and tilted his chin slightly, as if to ask, "What’s up?"
The next mont, he saw his girl pull out two small, colorful, round signs from behind her back. One said "Go Mortir Quincy," and the other, "Mortir Quincy is the Best."
Mortir Quincy raised an eyebrow. ’Her plagiarism is incomplete. She’s missing a line.’
’I love you, Hubby.’
Holly Winslow waved the small round signs, her mouth open as she shouted, "Mortir Quincy, go!! Go!!!"
The girl shook the signs and her head at the sa ti, looking as adorable as a little schoolgirl.
Mortir Quincy’s gaze darkened, and he swallowed hard.
’I fucking want to devour her right here on the spot.’
He mouthed at her: *Tone it down.*
Holly Winslow thought he was embarrassed by her, so she stuck out her tongue and waved the signs even more enthusiastically. "Mortir Quincy, go!!! Mortir Quincy, go!!..."
Mortir Quincy: "..."
’I tell my wifey to tone it down, and she just gets louder.’
’Is she trying to attract a bunch of other guys with that cute little face?’
After the "ready" call, the whistle blew. The student competitors shot off, and Mortir Quincy started at a steady pace, settling into the middle of the pack.
At the sa ti, the crowd around them grew even more noisy and boisterous.
"Go, Mortir Quincy!!"
"Mortir Quincy, Mortir Quincy, go!!"
The cheers for Mortir Quincy drowned out the cheers for all the other racers.
’They’re cheering even harder than I am, his actual girlfriend...’
She shook the signs in her hands and started shouting along again, "Mortir Quincy, go!!! Go!!"
Once Mortir Quincy was further down the track, she didn’t chase after him like the other girls. Instead, she moved near the finish line. Every ti he ran past, she would wave her little round signs and shout encouragent.
Her enthusiasm caught the attention of the school’s student photographers. They made sure to get a shot of her, planning to use it for the display board to showcase the lively atmosphere of the sports et.
On the final lap, Mortir Quincy lengthened his stride and pulled into first place, but the jock in second was only half a step behind him.
Standing just before the finish line, Holly Winslow shook her signs with all her might, her face flushed from shouting.
「The last fifty ters.」
From a distance, Mortir Quincy saw his wifey bouncing around like a little hopper and almost laughed so hard he lost his breath.
He sped up, crossed the red finish line, and swept the sign-wielding "Hopper" right into his arms. In a voice only the two of them could hear, a roguish tone mixed with his panting, he said, "Hopper, you’re still missing ’I love you.’"
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