Chapter 289: Chapter 299: Congratulations to Mortimer Quincy on Not Becoming a Dad So Soon

The "utterly spent" Mortimer Quincy: "..."

Damn it. He was once again rendered speechless by his wife’s shocking words.

He glanced at the milk tea in his hand, then at Holly Winslow. She clearly wanted to drink more, but he pretended not to notice. "If my wife doesn’t want it, then I guess she doesn’t want it."

Holly Winslow: "..."

She informed him seriously, "Quincy the Puppy, anything you say right now is wrong." With that, she took the milk tea back and went into her office.

Watching his wife’s haughty retreat, Mortimer Quincy couldn’t help but smile.

...

Anna Willow must have been driven mad by the torture of studying for her grad school exams. She had been wailing in their group chat for days, each day more tragic than the last. At first, Holly Winslow and Iris Kensington tried to comfort her, but eventually, they just started laughing mercilessly, each time with more amusement than the last.

Anna Willow’s wails were just too hilarious.

Later, Anna Willow even made the grand declaration that she wouldn’t get married until she passed her exams.

Holly Winslow, nestled in Mortimer Quincy’s arms, was laughing so hard she could barely breathe.

Mortimer Quincy, who had been reading, picked up his phone and forwarded her message verbatim to Zeke Zane with a comment: *Late marriage and late childbirth. Excellent.*

Zeke Zane: ...

’Mortimer Quincy, are you even fucking human?’

Holly Winslow glanced at Mortimer’s phone, then looked up at him with a grin. "Honey, you don’t do a single thing that could be considered remotely human, do you?"

Mortimer wasn’t the least bit embarrassed. He put down his phone and said coolly, "Otherwise, how could I be called a wolf?"

Holly Winslow: "..."

’So shameless.’

She scooted away from him with an expression of extreme "disgust," then replied to Anna Willow: *Anna, you can do it! Fight to become Mrs. Zane as soon as possible!*

Iris Kensington: *HAHAHA, you got this, Mrs. Zane.*

Mrs. Zane: *Thanks for the encouragement, Mrs. Quincy and Mrs. Chaucer. I’ll try to get it on the first shot.*

Iris Kensington: *My mind just went to a dirty place.*

Holly Winslow: *HAHAHAHA.*

Anna Willow: *My bad, my bad, HAHAHA. That sentence should be for Mrs. Quincy.*

Iris Kensington: *HAHAHAHA, Mrs. Quincy, you see that?*

*It’s your turn to have one.*

*A real one this time, not a false alarm.*

Holly Winslow: ...

*I’m still just a budding flower of the nation.*

Anna Willow: *Holly, show me your face. Do you have no shame?*

Iris Kensington: *Holly says I have a face, and it’s very pretty. A beautiful girl.*

Anna Willow: *beautiful girl, beautiful girl, You are handsome cousin’s beautiful wife.*

As the two of them teased her in the group chat, Holly leaned against Mortimer and grumbled a few times. Mortimer tilted his head and leaned in closer. She quickly covered her phone to keep him from looking, glaring at him with a cute fierceness. "What are you looking at, you bastard?"

The "bastard" was amused. He tilted his head, raising a single eyebrow. "I’m the bastard..."

"...and our little bastard hasn’t been born yet."

Holly Winslow: "..."

...

After a few days off, Mortimer Quincy started working overtime again. He said he was negotiating a big project, and after it was completed, every employee would get a bonus of at least ten thousand.

Mortimer would get more, since he was the one spearheading the project.

While Holly Winslow was lamenting the evils of capitalism, she started bringing Mortimer lunch every day, causing his colleagues to whine and grumble every time noon rolled around.

The air was thick with the sour stench of jealousy from all the single people.

This fellow Mortimer was quite pleased with the situation. When he got home, he’d massage his wife’s legs, rub her shoulders, and get in a little "exercise" on the side.

During this time, Wyatt Winslow came to visit once, but he only stayed at Holly’s center for half an hour before rushing off for a business trip out of town.

He had been very busy lately; the factory had received a ton of orders.

Mortimer would periodically post pictures of the lunches Holly brought him on his social media, much to the extreme dissatisfaction of "long-suffering" people like Zeke Zane, who were staying up all night cramming for their exams.

Can you imagine the feeling of working yourself to death, pulling all-nighters, while someone else is "working just as hard" at showing off their love life?

It was a stab to the heart.

When the grad school exams ended in December, Pantheon and the others finally got a chance to breathe. They planned to get "revenge" on Mortimer. Zeke Zane and Pantheon egged each other on to invite Mortimer and Holly out to eat.

On the evening of Holly Winslow’s day off, the group gathered at a hot pot restaurant, six people around one table.

Pantheon took the lead, raising a cup of tea to make a speech. "First, let’s celebrate our escape from this sea of suffering! And may we all pass our exams."

"Second, congratulations to Mortimer for not becoming a dad so soon."

Zeke Zane let out a loud, unrestrained "HAHA." Mortimer shot them a cool glance and retorted, "The sea of suffering is boundless."

Zeke Zane and the others didn’t understand what he meant at first, but Holly Winslow, having been Mortimer’s wife for years, got it instantly. He was implying they’d have to take the exam again next time.

She couldn’t help but laugh out loud.

In any case, she had never seen anyone who could leave Mortimer Quincy speechless.

He, on the other hand, often left others speechless.

Once Zeke Zane and the others finally got it: "..."

Pantheon quickly went "Ptooey, ptooey, ptooey!" to ward off the bad luck. "I have to pass the exam this time, or I’m not worthy of being called a man."

Mortimer let out a soft "Tsk."

Pantheon felt the sting of mockery: "..."

He looked at Cynthia Owens, as if wanting her to vouch for him. Cynthia met his gaze and said nothing. "..."

Anna Willow and Holly Winslow were doubled over with laughter.

Over the course of the meal, Zeke Zane, Pantheon, and Mortimer all had a few drinks and sat together talking about their plans now that the exams were over.

Don’t be fooled by how goofy Zeke Zane and Pantheon usually were; when it came to serious matters, they were very earnest.

Both of them had already made plans for their futures and were working hard toward their goals.

If Mortimer was the representative of top students from wealthy families, then these two were the representatives of top students from ordinary families.

Academic success largely depends on one’s own effort and determination.

Seeing her staring intently at Zeke Zane and Pantheon, Mortimer’s long, narrow eyes suddenly narrowed. He tilted his head, leaned in close, and said in a low voice, "Has your taste gotten worse?"

At first, Holly didn’t get it. "What do you mean, my taste has gotten worse?" she asked, confused.

"Them." Mortimer jutted his chin in Zeke and Pantheon’s direction.

Zeke Zane and Pantheon hadn’t heard Mortimer’s first question, but they heard the last two exchanges crystal clear.

"..."

’Fuck.’

’What the hell is this fucked-up conversation?’

Holly Winslow: "..."

She bared her teeth. "You’re the one with bad taste."

’Mr. Jealous.’

’Mr. Big Jealousy.’

’Mr. Super Duper Jealousy.’

The fellow Mortimer was not happy. He stood up. "We’re going home."

Holly paid him no mind. She took the keys from her bag, handed them to him, and waved her hand dismissively. "You go on back. I’m going to chat with Anna and Iris for a bit."

Anna Willow watched from the side with a knowing, fond grin. Her handsome cousin getting jealous was just too adorable.

But he wouldn’t be Mortimer Quincy if he simply took the keys. He bent down, scooped her straight into his arms, and tossed over his shoulder, "We’re going home."

Zeke Zane and Pantheon were dumbfounded: "..."

They instinctively clutched their chests. They were both in relationships, so why did they still feel like they were suffocating from all this saccharine sweetness?

Holly’s face turned red from being stared at the whole way out. Once they were in the car, she punched Mortimer. "What do you think you’re doing?!"

"Doing you," Mortimer replied calmly as he took out the car key.

Holly Winslow: "..."

As they entered their home, the jealous Scholar Quincy gave her a "friendly" reminder, "Are you full? If not, you should eat some more."

She wouldn’t be Mortimer Quincy’s wife if she didn’t understand his meaning. She immediately put on a fawning, cheerful smile. "Honey, you were so handsome today. Devastatingly handsome."

Mortimer stared at her grimly, still hung up on her comment about "bad" taste. "You mean devastatingly bad, right?"

Holly Winslow: "..."

’I want to throw my husband out to cool off for a night.’

She still had papers to grade, so she didn’t have time to keep placating this petulant man’s feelings.

She took out a stack of papers and handed a large pile to Mortimer. "Quincy the Puppy, get to grading. You can’t sleep until you’re done. I have to go over these with my students tomorrow."