Reborn with My Genius Husband-Chapter 46: If Not "Gege," Then "Husband"?

On the Saturday when the students were let go for the weekend, all the sophomore teachers were working overtime. They were sorting exam papers and compiling statistics, and the seven to eight hundred papers were all tallied by 10 a.m.

Each teacher received a paper copy of the grade rankings.

Julian Carlton took two gulps of cold water to calm his nerves, afraid he’d drop dead from anger when he saw Class 8’s results.

Every exam wasn’t just a rollercoaster for the students; it was for the teachers, too.

Ahem...

He wanted to be named an outstanding teacher.

He looked at the grade rankings, and his gaze was immediately drawn to the two words "Holly Winslow." For a moment, he couldn’t believe his eyes, and his heart began to race.

Second in the grade!

Holly Winslow: Language Arts 126, Math 102, English 150, Biology 92, Physics 88, Chemistry 95. Total score: 653.

Only ten points behind first place.

He clutched his chest and suddenly burst out laughing, showing off to the other teachers, "Holly Winslow from my class got second in the grade!"

The office fell silent for a moment. All the other teachers looked down at their ranking sheets.

They were shocked.

’Was she on a rocket?’

If her score were in the five hundreds, they might have suspected cheating. But over six hundred? Who could she possibly have cheated off of? Besides, her English score was perfect.

Hah, to be blunt, anyone who could cheat their way to a score over six hundred would have to be a genius.

The homeroom teacher from the neighboring class said, "Let’s find Holly Winslow’s exam papers and take a look."

...

Today was Walter Winslow’s sixtieth birthday. Wyatt Winslow and Holly had driven to the Winslow family home the night before. The family home wasn’t in Jarton County itself, but in a small village within the county, a two-and-a-half-hour drive away.

Walter Winslow had a lot of friends in his youth, and he’d kept in touch with them, so quite a few people showed up. Four or five cars were parked in the wide, open yard.

The guests were all in their fifties and sixties, so Holly couldn’t be of much help. She was squatting boredly at the edge of the yard, teasing a dog.

She took out her phone with her right hand. Mortimer Quincy hadn’t messaged her in two or three hours.

"Holly!" someone suddenly called out to her.

Holly Winslow looked up. It was the boy from next door, Shane Lester. He was the same age as her, with average looks. The black, cotton-padded jacket he wore was a bit short, revealing a section of his wrist. When they were kids and she visited for summer vacation, they had often played together.

Catching crabs and digging for crayfish.

"Brother Lester."

Shane Lester squatted down beside her, a genuine smile on his face. He scratched his head, embarrassed, and asked a bit shyly, "Holly, did you... have your midterms yet?"

"I did."

Holly Winslow nodded. "How did you do this time, Brother Lester?"

Shane Lester studied at Jarton High, and his grades were decent. When they were kids, he was always "that other family’s kid."

Jarton High had its midterms before Jarton Second High this time, and the results were already out. That guy Mortimer Quincy scored 744, one point higher than last time.

"628."

"That’s a good score, Brother Lester."

Hearing this, Shane Lester scratched his head. "It’s okay. The top student at our school got a 744."

Holly Winslow’s interest was piqued. She chuckled mischievously. "Brother Lester, is the top student at your school really popular? I heard he’s handsome, is that true?"

"I’ve seen him a few times. He is really handsome, and I hear a lot of girls at school have a crush on him," Shane Lester said, his face flushing a bit as he looked at Holly’s pretty face.

A white Audi pulled up in front of them. From the window, Mortimer Quincy saw his ’wife’ talking to some guy while wearing a floral, padded jacket like one of the locals.

The guy was blushing and kept stealing glances at Holly.

He raised an eyebrow and honked the horn.

The two of them didn’t look up. They just shuffled back a bit at the same time, assuming they were blocking the way.

"Holly."

A familiar voice. Holly Winslow looked up to see the boy’s handsome face in the car window. He had an expression like he’d just caught her cheating.

She asked in surprise, "What are you doing here?"

Then she leaned her head in closer, looking furtive like a thief. "Go, quick! It’ll be bad if Dad sees you."

’So silly.’

Mortimer Quincy suddenly smiled. "My grandparents are in the back."

Holly Winslow froze for a few seconds, then looked toward the back seat. She greeted them stiffly, "Grandpa, Grandma."

As it turned out, Mortimer Quincy’s grandparents knew Holly Winslow’s grandparents, a fact they’d only learned at the time of the wedding.

’I’d completely forgotten.’

Mortimer Quincy’s grandmother, who had a perm of short, salt-and-pepper curls, looked at the young girl outside the window and said kindly, "Holly, don’t be nervous. His grandpa and I are very easygoing."

When Mortimer Quincy had come back early this morning and said he wanted to come with them to the Winslows’ home, she had asked him why, out of curiosity.

He’d said he was going to see his girlfriend.

Seeing his ’wife’ just standing there, at a loss for words, Mortimer Quincy thoughtfully interjected, "Where should I park?"

"Park in the yard."

Holly Winslow pointed. Once the car drove off, she turned to Shane Lester and said, "Brother Lester, I’m heading back to the house. We can talk more later at dinner."

’Brother Lester?’

Mortimer Quincy glanced at Shane Lester in the rearview mirror, then looked away and turned the steering wheel, driving into the yard.

Just as he parked the car, Walter Winslow came out to greet them.

Meanwhile, Holly Winslow had run into a bedroom to take off her floral padded jacket. She checked herself in the mirror, then pinned a small pearl clip in her hair just above her ear.

Feeling she was presentable now, she left the bedroom, just in time to run into Wyatt Winslow coming out of the kitchen. He frowned and asked, "Why’d you take your jacket off?"

"It’s too hot, Dad."

Holly Winslow lied through her teeth, her eyes darting toward the main hall.

Her grandfather was entertaining Mortimer’s grandparents, with Mortimer standing obediently to the side. He wore a denim jacket over a gray hoodie, loose light-blue jeans, and black-and-white striped shoes.

He was the most eye-catching person in the room at a glance.

"Mm," Wyatt Winslow said. "If you’re bored, go back to your room and watch some TV. I’ll call you when it’s time to eat."

"I’m not bored, Dad." Holly Winslow shook her head, beaming.

Wyatt Winslow gave a faint smile, but it vanished the moment he turned his head.

’My daughter’s boyfriend actually showed up at our house.’

He looked back at Holly Winslow, who innocently rubbed her nose.

Just then, Walter Winslow waved the two of them over. "Dex, this is Uncle and Aunt Quincy. They used to hold you when you were little."

"Uncle Quincy, Aunt Quincy," Wyatt Winslow said.

Mortimer Quincy’s grandparents returned the greeting. Mortimer politely said, "Uncle Winslow."

"Mm," Wyatt Winslow replied coolly.

After the greetings, Mortimer looked at his ’wife’. A moment ago she was in a floral padded jacket, but now she’d changed into a red one, with a pearl clip in her hair that made her look rather playful.

’She looks really good.’

Meeting his gaze, Holly Winslow stuck her tongue out at him.

Walter Winslow added, "Holly, this is Grandma Quincy’s grandson. You two are about the same age, so you should have a lot to talk about."

He chuckled and said, "Moira’s grades are excellent. Holly, you should learn from him."

Mortimer’s grandmother smiled and waved her hand dismissively, praising, "Holly is so beautiful."

"She’s still not quite on Moira’s level. Your Moira has good grades and good looks," Walter Winslow replied with a polite compliment.

Wyatt Winslow pressed his lips together and glanced at Walter Winslow. He looked like he wanted to say something but held back. Then he turned to Holly. "Holly, go to Auntie Langdon’s and buy a bottle of vinegar. The kitchen is out."

There was still a large bottle of vinegar left over from having noodles that morning; Holly knew he was just trying to send her away.

She nodded obediently.

"Holly, take Moira with you. Moira, if you see anything you like, have Holly buy it for you," Walter Winslow said, oblivious to his son’s painstaking efforts.

"Thank you, Grandpa Winslow." Mortimer Quincy stood up before Wyatt Winslow had a chance to object.

...

Holly Winslow and Mortimer Quincy walked side by side, with a dog trailing behind them.

It was colder in the village than in the county seat. "ACHOO!" Holly Winslow sneezed. She reached up and rubbed her nose.

"You’re not wearing a sweater?" Mortimer Quincy took off his denim jacket and draped it over her.

Holly Winslow gave an awkward smile. Mortimer Quincy tapped her on the head, his tone a little stern. "How many times have I told you? You have to wear a sweater."

Then his tone shifted. "’Brother Lester?’ You sound pretty friendly with him." His voice was thick with jealousy.

Holly Winslow: "..."

"We were just having a normal conversation."

Mortimer Quincy raised his eyebrows. "A normal conversation involves calling him ’brother’?"

"If I don’t call him ’brother,’ should I call him ’hubby’ instead?" Holly Winslow batted her eyelashes at him, the picture of innocence.

"Go on, say it."

Mortimer Quincy laughed in exasperation and added, "Wifey, if you keep talking back to me, I’m going to kiss you."

Holly Winslow shut her mouth.