Pantheon glanced toward Mortimer Quincy and teased, "Holly, look at Mortimer’s face. Do you really think we dare to pick up our chopsticks?"

Anna Willow couldn’t help but laugh.

Holly Winslow tilted her head to look at Mortimer Quincy, then reached out to fix his upturned collar with a natural, practiced motion. She then said with a bright smile, "You look handsome."

Pantheon: "..."

’A miscalculation.’

’No need to eat. I’m already full.’

’They’re just shoving their PDA down my throat.’

’And I brought it on myself.’

Mortimer Quincy raised his eyebrows in satisfaction. ’I’ll begrudgingly forgive my wife for her double standards just now. I’ll go a little easier on her when we get home...’

’...for half a minute.’

If Holly Winslow knew what he was thinking, she would have spit a mouthful of tea right in his face.

Zeke Zane had the server turn on the burner so they could start cooking the ingredients.

Once some of the food was cooked, Zeke noticed Pantheon was still slumped in his chair, the life drained from his face. "Yo, not eating?"

Pantheon glanced at Mortimer Quincy and Holly Winslow, then patted his stomach. "Already full."

Zeke Zane: "..."

He rolled his eyes at him, then put some food on Anna Willow’s plate.

Pantheon watched the couple to his left serve each other food and the couple to his right do the same, leaving him sitting there, motionless and alone.

’The third wheel isn’t shining very brightly.’

’I’ve come to realize my mistake. A deep, profound mistake.’

’The mistake of being a single dog.’

After moping for a minute, he picked up a piece of tripe and began to cook it in the pot.

After dinner, the group parted ways. Holly was so stuffed that she decided to walk home. "Honey, what time is your computer exam tomorrow? Mine is at nine a.m."

"Do you even have to ask?"

Mortimer Quincy wrapped an arm around her shoulder and raised an eyebrow. "Significant others should be self-aware. Of course we have to take it together."

Holly Winslow rolled her eyes at him with a grin and tilted her chin up. "If we’re not in the same classroom, you’re a pig."

’They weren’t even in the same school. How could they possibly have the exam in the same room?’

Mortimer said coolly, "And what if we are?"

Without a second thought, Holly Winslow shot back, "If we are, then I’m the pig?"

"Oh."

Mortimer Quincy took out his phone, tapped the screen a few times, and showed her his exam registration number.

Holly Winslow: "..."

’That rascal really was in the same room, two rows behind her.’

’This was the kind of fateful coincidence you wouldn’t even dare write in a novel.’

Then, Mortimer Quincy leaned down, his voice deep and magnetic. "Hello there, piggy wife."

’So incredibly dreamy.’

Holly Winslow couldn’t take it when he acted like this. It always made her blood rush to her head... ahem, giving her a criminal urge.

’Pounce.’

The material for the Computer Skills Level 1 exam wasn’t difficult, especially for two people who had already been through college once before.

After finishing the exam amidst a chorus of anguished cries from other students, the two of them headed to a study hall to start tackling their respective majors.

University is all about self-directed learning. The workload isn’t actually any less than in high school; it just depends on whether you decide to coast by or continue to push yourself.

A word of advice from someone who’s been through it: get as many certifications as you can in college. It’s a tangible way to prove your skills.

They’re a huge help when you’re looking for a job.

Holly Winslow had experienced it before. When she was job hunting, recruiters would ask her: "What are your special skills? What awards have you won? What experience do you have?"

Back then, she had been completely stumped. After thinking hard, she realized she had nothing.

That was the first time she realized just how inadequate she was.

...

One day, Mortimer Quincy received an interview invitation from a company. He changed into a set of more formal clothes and went to the interview.

The company was in the financial sector and considered a major player in the city. They didn’t normally hire externally, but they had begun recruiting interns to support their business expansion.

Even though it was just for interns, the requirements were no less stringent than for a full-time position.

Interns who performed well could be converted to official employees upon graduation, with a starting salary of at least eight thousand a month.

However, not all interns would get a permanent offer. It was survival of the fittest.

There were three rounds of written exams and two rounds of interviews.

While Mortimer Quincy was taking his written exam, Holly Winslow was in her dorm room, creating a practice test for Yara Nolan.

Serena Shaw and the others were growing impressed by Holly Winslow’s day-in, day-out studying. Munching on potato chips, Serena asked, "Holly, why are you pushing yourself so hard?"

Holly Winslow glanced at her and smiled. "If I don’t work hard now, I’ll pay for it later."

Simone Quincy, who was wearing a face mask, said, "Holly, you sound just like my mom. She says the exact same thing: ’If you don’t study hard now, you’ll have plenty of miserable days ahead of you.’"

Holly Winslow laughed. "Your mom really gets it. Cecilia, you all need to see the light soon."

Autumn Underwood and the other two girls laughed. Serena Shaw sighed, "I should find a tutoring gig too. Otherwise, playing games all day is going to make my brain rot."

"Serena, that’s a great realization." Holly Winslow gave her a big thumbs-up. 𝑓𝘳𝘦𝑒𝑤𝑒𝘣𝘯ℴ𝘷𝘦𝓁.𝑐𝑜𝑚

When Mortimer Quincy returned from his interview, it was dinnertime. Holly Winslow had already ordered their food and was waiting for him.

She spotted him the moment he walked into the cafeteria and gave a little wave. Mortimer Quincy quickly made his way over. After he sat down, she asked, "How did it go? Do you think you have a shot?"

"It’s still too early to say. That was just the first round of the written exam, but it wasn’t difficult," Mortimer Quincy said.

Hearing that last part, Holly Winslow knew he was confident. She praised him with a bright smile, "My Quincy the Puppy is just that amazing."

"Here, your reward is a chicken drumstick."

After dinner, the two went to Robin Roland’s house for the tutoring session. It was Friday, and since Yara Nolan had the day off from school, they were holding the session earlier than usual.

Holly Winslow handed the practice test she had written that afternoon to Yara Nolan.

She had set the difficulty to mimic that of the national college entrance exams.

Yara Nolan was clearly struggling, but Holly Winslow didn’t rush him, instead quietly checking his homework from the last session.

Mortimer Quincy sat nearby for a bit until his phone suddenly rang. He quickly stepped out of the bedroom and returned a minute or two later.

Holly Winslow glanced at him but didn’t ask what it was about.

Two hours later, she handed the completed test to Mortimer Quincy to grade while she went over the incorrect answers with Yara Nolan.

Spotting a glaring error, her tone became stern, like a teacher’s. "Look here. This is the wrong word. You wrote ’conform’ when it should be ’confirm.’ The two words have completely different meanings. ’Confirm’ means to verify, while ’conform’ means to comply."

"It’s a shame to lose points over something like this. You have to be more careful. Make sure you spend time memorizing vocabulary..."

Mortimer Quincy glanced at her out of the corner of his eye as he graded the test. Her face was stern, and she seemed almost anxious about the points lost over a simple vocabulary mistake.

’In truth, very few people could match the effort Holly Winslow put in. She worked incredibly hard. Her Oxford English Dictionary was worn to shreds, and she went through one audio tape after another until they were useless.’

’She was the very embodiment of hard work.’

Holly Winslow happened to catch his gaze and paused for a second before continuing to explain the problem as usual. Under the table, however, she stretched out her foot and gave him a light kick.

The corners of Mortimer Quincy’s lips tilted upward. He went back to grading the test and finished quickly. The score was 126.

He then used a pen to mark all the incorrect answers, making it easier for Holly Winslow to go over the test later.

With that finished, he idly pulled out his phone. There were 99+ notifications from the men’s dorm 206 group chat. He opened it and saw that Pantheon was sending out red packets to celebrate—he and Cynthia Owens were officially dating.

He raised an eyebrow, a little surprised. Then he saw a message from Boris Owens: "From now on, you’re Mortimer Quincy’s second cousin-in-law."

Mortimer: "..."

He closed the chat.

The two of them didn’t get home until eleven o’clock that night. Holly Winslow’s throat was raw from talking so much, and she kept letting out little, uncomfortable coughs.

Mortimer Quincy made her a cup of honey water. "If your throat hurts, you should stop talking."

Holly Winslow took a sip from the cup and chuckled. "HEH HEH. Yara Nolan’s college entrance exams are right around the corner. I want to go over as much as I can with him."

Mortimer Quincy got a little jealous. He sat down beside her and said plaintively, "In that case, why can’t my dear wife ’do’ a little more with me whenever she gets the chance?"