Reborn with My Genius Husband-Chapter 135: Reporting Him for Puppy Love
Teachers didn’t patrol the grove during the day, but students would still stroll through.
Holly Winslow occasionally glanced at Mortimer Quincy. ’This guy seems awfully well-behaved. Something’s not right.’
"What are you looking at? Keep staring and your husband will kiss you." Mortimer Quincy tilted his chin up slightly, his roguish voice a little dominant.
’If there weren’t people around, would I have to wait for my wifey to just look?’
Holly Winslow: "..."
’So full of himself.’
She took a big gulp of her Coke. "Believe it or not, I can get you on the front page."
His wifey’s "famous quotes" came one after another. Mortimer Quincy’s shoulders shook with laughter. He had just managed to calm down when he couldn’t help but laugh again.
"I’m not interested in getting on the front page. I’m very interested in getting on you, though."
"One hundred percent interested."
Holly Winslow: "..."
There was a more secluded spot in the grove, a blind spot right below the boys’ dormitory.
Holly Winslow hadn’t yet noticed how hidden it was. She sipped her Coke, staring at a section of the wall that was clearly lower. A few seconds later, she said, "Mortimer, this is a good spot to climb the wall. Even I could manage this height."
"..."
Mortimer Quincy laughed in exasperation. He said dangerously, "What’s this? Thinking about climbing out for milk tea again?"
As he spoke, he cornered her in his arms. "Wifey, I want a kiss."
Holly Winslow took a step back, her back hitting the wall. Her eyes widened. "No, we’re done for if someone sees us." 𝐟𝗿𝐞𝚎𝚠𝐞𝚋𝕟𝐨𝚟𝐞𝕝.𝕔𝕠𝚖
"My wifey’s been drinking Coke this whole time. It’s not fair if you don’t let your husband ’have a couple sips’." Mortimer Quincy lifted her chin and lowered his head to kiss her, tasting the flavor of Coke.
The soft touch sent a tingle through him.
Just then, they faintly heard a voice. "Boost me up first, then I’ll pull you in."
"Alright, alright."
Before the two could react, they heard a THUD. "Agh..."
The "oh" the boy was about to say died in his throat. In his line of sight, a guy was bent over, holding a girl in his arms.
He didn’t need a clear look to know what they were doing.
They were kissing!!!
He recognized the guy. No one else in the entire school had such a short haircut. His mouth fell open. "..."
’Holy shit, I just caught the top scholar in a secret relationship.’
If he hadn’t been climbing the wall to get in, he might have been secretly thrilled.
Mortimer Quincy had already reacted, immediately pushing Holly Winslow’s head down so no one could see her face.
Holly Winslow wished she could hide inside his clothes.
’It’s over, it’s over.’
’Our relationship is going to be exposed.’
Visions of writing self-criticisms and having her parents called to school flashed through her mind.
"What the fuck, where’d you go? Shit." The voice had barely faded when there was another THUD.
"What the hell are you do—" The guy saw the situation in front of him and immediately shut his mouth.
’You’ve gotta be kidding me. Of all the bad luck, we ran into Quincy the point-deductor.’
Six eyes met. Mortimer Quincy said coolly, "If you don’t want points deducted, leave now."
The two boys exchanged a look, then turned and ran for it.
Hearing that things had gone quiet, Holly Winslow poked her head out, her face immediately falling. "This is all your fault. Do you think they recognized me? It’s over, it’s over."
"They didn’t." Knowing he was in the wrong, Mortimer Quincy patted her head reassuringly.
The two boys didn’t stop until they were out of the grove. The one in the white t-shirt was panting, clutching his chest. "That scared the hell out of me."
"Do you think Mortimer Quincy will deduct our points? Shit, we’re screwed if he does."
The guy in the gray t-shirt was also catching his breath, looking furious. "No way. If he dares to deduct our points, we’ll report him for dating. If we’re going down, we’re taking him with us."
The guy in the white t-shirt nodded in agreement. "It looked like they were wearing matching outfits. Too bad I didn’t see the girl’s face."
The two were seniors who had climbed the wall that afternoon to go play video games. They didn’t know about the "sibling outfits" Mortimer Quincy and Holly Winslow were wearing.
The guy in gray also found it a shame. He tugged at his collar. "That girl’s ponytail looked familiar. So dark and smooth. Damn it, I can’t place who it was."
"Who cares who she is. We’d better just pray Mortimer Quincy doesn’t deduct our points. What rotten luck. I can’t believe we got caught in that little nook." The guy in the white t-shirt pressed his palms together as if in prayer.
...
Evening self-study was another round of worksheets—this time, math. Mortimer Quincy finished his in half an hour, then pulled out his phone and started browsing something under his desk.
Holly Winslow kept glancing at him. Finally, she couldn’t take it anymore and whispered a reminder, "What are you looking at? The teacher’s up front. Be careful or they’ll confiscate it."
"Power-ranking."
Mortimer Quincy glanced at her worksheet, which was still less than halfway done. He tilted his chin, signaling for her to keep writing.
’Power-ranking?’
Holly Winslow didn’t know what that was. She was puzzled for a moment but didn’t ask anything else and went back to her worksheet.
Power-ranking was too easy. A 500-yuan donation secured the top spot by a huge margin.
Looking at the top fan name, "Holly Darling," Mortimer Quincy raised his eyebrows in satisfaction.
After that, he started scrolling through the school website’s forum. It was his first time doing so, and the more he read, the darker his expression became. ’Who the fuck wrote that Holly Winslow and Shane Lester are a couple?’
Fuck.
Report.
He reported several posts in a row. The feeling of being a paid user was great; every report hit its mark. Two accounts had even been banned already.
The math teacher on the podium had noticed him. He saw Mortimer had his head down for several minutes.
With such a good student, the teacher’s first reaction was that he might be feeling unwell. He walked down from the podium, concerned.
As he got closer, he saw an Olympiad math worksheet on Mortimer’s lap, already half-finished. The teacher’s expression turned to one of relief and approval.
He watched for a few seconds, then quietly walked away.
Out of the corner of her eye, Holly Winslow saw Mortimer Quincy pull out his phone again. The corner of her mouth twitched.
’Only Scholar Quincy could command that level of trust.’ If it were any other student, the teacher’s hand would have already been rummaging in their desk while barking, "Hand over the phone! I’ll count to three. If I find it myself, I’m smashing it!"
...
「After evening self-study, in men’s dorm room 206.」
"Whoa, holy shit, you guys, look at the campus website! Someone dropped a ton of cash to power-rank their cousin!" Boris Owens loved browsing the forums—ahem, for all the pretty female students.
The whole dorm room immediately ran over to look. Pantheon said, "Let me count this... ones, tens, hundreds... whoa, 500 yuan! This person’s insane!"
"Fuck, they’re either loaded or have a screw loose."
Zeke Zane felt like the ID was a bit familiar. "Holly Darling"... the more he looked at it, the more familiar it seemed. ’Really, really familiar.’
Then, as if remembering something, he quickly said, "Let me see the phone."
He then opened Boris Owens’s QQ. Several messages popped up from users with what looked like girls’ profile pictures.
"Fuck, Boris Owens, you scumbag. You’re hitting on this many girls from our school? Does your girlfriend know?" Paul Powell said with "disgust."
"What do you guys know? They’re the ones who hit me up," Boris Owens said, looking a little awkward. He cleared his throat. "Don’t you dare tell my girlfriend."
Everyone made a "Tch" sound. Pantheon said, "Walk the night road long enough, and you’re bound to see a ghost, Scumbag Owens."
Scumbag Owens: "..."
Zeke Zane clicked on Mortimer Quincy’s personal profile. Nickname: Holly Darling.
’Just as I thought.’
He: "..."
Pantheon couldn’t help but suck in a breath of a single dog’s decaying aura. Besides "Fuck," no other word could represent his current mood.
The others had a milder reaction than those two, their focus elsewhere. Paul Powell was still marveling at the 500 yuan. He looked up at Mortimer Quincy, who had just come in from the balcony wearing blue pajamas and black flip-flops.
"Mortimer, is ’Holly Darling’ you?"
