Reborn with My Genius Husband-Chapter 131 - 31: Expressway
"Ribbit, ribbit, ribbit. Gimme the money." Holly Winslow held out her hands.
Mortimer Quincy raised an eyebrow. "Get it yourself."
"If you say so."
Holly Winslow reached into his pocket. After feeling around for a moment, she pulled out a wad of several hundred yuan and stuffed it all into her own pocket.
She waved her hand grandly. "I’ll be your sugar mama this month."
"In that case, I suppose I’ll reluctantly let you sleep with me." Though Mortimer Quincy’s words were grudging, his expression was anything but.
Holly Winslow: "..."
She shot him a sideways glare. "You should be glad I’m not charging *you*."
"Name your price. A price to sleep with you."
Mortimer Quincy paused for a moment. "For keeps."
"I’m afraid my price would scare you to death, Quincy the Puppy!" Holly Winslow grinned, baring her teeth at him, then skipped away.
...
By evening, the test results were out. A thousand thoughts had crossed Gabe Chaucer’s mind, but he never imagined that Mortimer Quincy’s scores would drop, placing him second in the grade.
He usually scored in the 140s on Language Arts, but this time he only got a 107.
He specifically pulled up Mortimer’s test paper and discovered he’d only written two lines for the essay portion.
’Good, so his performance hasn’t actually slipped.’
That emotional roller coaster was enough to give him a heart attack.
The other teachers caught wind of the situation. One of the homeroom teachers from a parallel class said with a sigh, "There’s just no comparison. Mortimer Quincy’s score, even without the essay, is still better than the Language Arts scores of most of the students in my class."
"Not at all. Teacher Sawyer, your students are excellent," Gabe Chaucer replied politely.
The difficulty of this Language Arts test was about the same as the last one. The highest score in the entire school was a 129, achieved by Paul Powell from the "rocket class."
The next highest was Holly Winslow with a 127, making her number one in the grade for this exam cycle.
Her math score, which was usually average, was in the 130s this time, just one point off from Pantheon’s.
She was one point higher than him.
Gabe Chaucer exercised his authority as the homeroom teacher and swapped the three evening class periods with the math teacher.
A few minutes before he entered the classroom, the test papers for all subjects had already been handed out.
Holly Winslow calculated her own score and Mortimer Quincy’s. She realized that even with him having a zero on his essay, she had only beaten him by a few points.
At first, it didn’t sink in for Holly Winslow. But after a few seconds, it hit her. "..."
Pantheon saw that he’d scored over 130 in English. He glanced at Zeke Zane—they were only three or four points apart. He puffed up his chest smugly. "It won’t be long before the third-place spot is mine for good."
"If you’ve got the guts, why don’t you look at the scores of the people behind us?" Zeke Zane, who had reclaimed his number-three spot this time, retorted irritably.
He knew he was third out of sheer confidence.
Aside from the variable that was Pantheon, Zeke Zane was simply that self-assured.
"Fine, I’ll look."
But Pantheon was no fool; he wasn’t about to torture himself by looking at Holly Winslow’s and Mortimer Quincy’s English scores. He chuckled slyly at Holly. "Hey, Cousin, what’d you get in Math?"
Holly Winslow pulled the math paper from her stack of six tests and handed it to him. Pantheon could clearly see her perfect 150 in English and the 136 in Math.
One point higher than him.
"..."
Fuck.
His one last shred of "dignity" was gone.
"Cousin, what tutoring center did you enroll in? I’ve got to go!"
"Elite Scholars."
"Huh? I’ve been there before. I felt like it wasn’t that effective, the pacing was too slow."
Mortimer Quincy chimed in quietly, "One-on-one."
Pantheon: "..."
He’d forgotten that his "cousin" was a "rich kid," too.
That car with the four rings—he’d heard it cost a fortune.
He was truly jealous. "If I could, I’d want to be reincarnated as my cousin in my next life."
She’s rich, has a boyfriend, and is a top student.
"Get lost." Mortimer Quincy mercilessly kicked his stool.
Pantheon: "..."
Gabe Chaucer entered the classroom and got straight to summarizing the monthly exam results. "You’ve all seen your scores. You know in your hearts how much you’ve improved or fallen behind, so I won’t belabor the point."
"First, I want to congratulate our own Holly Winslow for taking first place in the entire grade."
Zeke Zane and Pantheon: "..."
’Are you kidding me?’
’First place is Mortimer Quincy’s girlfriend?’
The other students let out a collective "Whoa!", all of them in slight disbelief.
Holly Winslow rubbed her nose, feeling a little sheepish.
Gabe Chaucer led the applause. After a moment, he continued amiably, "I’m sure everyone is curious about Mortimer Quincy’s results. He placed second, with a score of 705."
It was the first time they’d ever seen him smiling while announcing a drop in a student’s ranking.
This time, even Zeke Zane and Pantheon were stunned. They both turned to look at Mortimer Quincy as the same thought flashed through their minds.
’It’s over. His relationship is making his grades drop.’
But then Gabe Chaucer added with a smile, "Mortimer didn’t write the essay for Language Arts this time. He got his usual perfect scores on everything else."
’His usual perfect scores on everything else?’
!!!
’Fucking hell, how demoralizing can you get? Even without an essay, his score is still higher than mine.’
’Zeke Zane was right. I should just go die.’
Gabe Chaucer had just delivered one devastating blow, and now he twisted the knife, joking with a smile, "My standards aren’t that high. For the college entrance exams, I’d be happy if all of you just managed to get the same score Mortimer got this time."
The whole class erupted in laughter.
After talking for a bit, Gabe Chaucer put on a movie for them to watch. The school had actually forbidden seniors from wasting time on movies.
So he told them to keep their voices down.
He then called Mortimer Quincy out onto the balcony. "Why didn’t you write the essay this time?"
"I wasn’t feeling well then."
Gabe Chaucer didn’t doubt him. "And now?"
"I’m fine now."
"If you’re feeling unwell, you need to speak up. Don’t let it drag on and turn into a bigger problem."
After a few more words of concern, he let Mortimer go back inside.
Gabe Chaucer remained on the balcony. Ahem. When he saw the dean of students appear at the stairwell, he calmly greeted him, then darted back into the classroom the next second and turned off the movie.
He glanced at the dean by the door and put on a stern expression. "Ahem! I told you all, no talking during study hall. Get back to your books."
Once the figure in the doorway was gone, he peeked outside. The dean was heading in the other direction. Only then did he turn the movie back on.
He reminded them again, "No talking. If the dean catches you, I’ll be the one getting hauled into the principal’s office for a ’chat’."
The class broke into laughter again, and Gabe Chaucer quickly raised a hand to quiet them down.
...
Even though Mortimer Quincy placed second in the grade, he still received the school’s three-thousand-yuan scholarship.
This was because Holly Winslow was a visiting student and wasn’t eligible for Jarton High’s benefits.
The outcome was the same in the end, however—the three thousand yuan ended up in Holly Winslow’s pocket.
In the afternoon, the principal of Jarton Second High contacted Holly Winslow through Gabe Chaucer’s phone. He offered some words of encouragement, an equivalent three-thousand-yuan reward, and even refunded all of her tuition from the past few years to Wyatt Winslow.
He was making it clear, both directly and indirectly, that she shouldn’t forget Jarton Second High.
Even though she didn’t get the official scholarship, Holly Winslow was ecstatic. The process had been grueling, but achieving such a great result made it all worthwhile.
She could finally understand the joy of being Scholar Quincy.
Seeing his girl looking so pleased with herself all day—and still looking pleased, her head bobbing as she worked on a practice test—Mortimer Quincy let out a low laugh. "Holly."
"Hm?" Holly Winslow looked at him.
Mortimer Quincy raised an eyebrow. "Why don’t you just be the lucky cat in my bedroom?"
The key word here, of course, was *bedroom*.
He paused, then added, "One that comes with kissing and hugging functions."
Holly Winslow: "..."
