Reborn with My Genius Husband

Chapter 176: You Called a Bit Too Soon, Try Again Later

The scene fell silent. The three of them looked at each other, an awkwardness hanging in the air like a son-in-law meeting his father-in-law for the first time.

Mortimer Quincy saw his father-in-law’s expression grow a bit more stern. ’...’

Holly Winslow glanced at Wyatt Winslow, then at Mortimer Quincy, and finally offered a timid reminder, "You’re a bit early with that. Save it for later."

Mortimer Quincy: "..."

’Damn, that’s hilarious.’

Noticing his father-in-law’s face was even darker than before, he managed to stifle his laughter.

But when he saw the girl’s innocent expression, the corners of his mouth still curved up slightly.

Wyatt Winslow’s brow furrowed. He pressed his lips together, decided to end the awkward scene, and opened the door to go inside.

Holly Winslow then realized she’d probably just made things worse. She gave Mortimer Quincy a sheepish wave and said encouragingly, "I’m going in now. Don’t lose heart! There’s still plenty of time; you’ll get another chance." With that, she scurried inside.

Leaving Mortimer Quincy standing there, utterly flustered.

His father-in-law’s impression of him now could probably be summed up in one word: unreliable.

That evening, Holly Winslow gathered all the things she needed for the college entrance exam and checked them one by one. Wyatt Winslow watched from the side. When she finished her count, he said, "Eraser."

Gabe Chaucer still didn’t quite trust these careless kids, so he sent a message to all the parents listing the items they needed to bring the next day. For those who didn’t reply, he called them personally to make sure they all got the message.

Holly Winslow remembered at once and said with a grin, "Good thing you reminded me, Dad."

The 2B pencil had its own eraser, but it wasn’t very good.

After finishing her packing at eight-thirty, Holly Winslow set her alarm for seven in the morning, then went to bed, hoping to be well-rested for the big day.

Only after hearing her bedroom fall silent did Wyatt Winslow tiptoe back to his own room. He then took out his phone and set an alarm for six o’clock.

The next day, Wyatt Winslow was out of his room and quietly in the kitchen before six. By the time Holly Winslow woke up, breakfast was already on the table.

Staring at the steaming hot food on the table, Holly Winslow was stunned for a moment before she cooed, "Dad, you’re the best."

"Go wash your face," Wyatt Winslow said, gesturing with his chin. He then went to the kitchen to get two sets of bowls and chopsticks.

’He probably worried that if I ate porridge, I’d need the restroom too often, so he made steamed rice instead.’ The dishes were all light and weren’t spicy.

After eating, Holly Winslow checked the time. It was just past seven-twenty. She started to clear the dishes, but Wyatt Winslow stopped her. "Don’t worry about the dishes. I’ll drive you to school. Check one more time: do you have your ID, your admission ticket, and your pens?"

She had already checked those items several times last night.

Holly Winslow glanced at Wyatt Winslow, checked her things one last time, and nodded, saying with a bright smile, "I’ve got them, Dad."

Downstairs, a boy stood under a tree. He was wearing a black short-sleeved shirt and army-green casual pants, which made him look tall and slender.

With a neat buzz cut, his features were even more defined, especially the perfect curve of his profile, which gave him a certain edge.

’The saying that a buzz cut is the true test of a handsome man is no lie.’

’That guy Mortimer Quincy was way too handsome today.’

Holly Winslow glanced at Wyatt Winslow and asked, "Dad, can I go over and talk to him for a second?"

Wyatt Winslow grunted in acknowledgment and said curtly, "Stay by the entrance." Then he turned and walked off.

He didn’t spare Mortimer Quincy a single glance.

’Just looking at the kid gives me a headache.’

If Mortimer Quincy knew what his father-in-law was thinking, he’d probably get a headache too.

But right now, his eyes were only on the girl in the long blue skirt. Her hair was tied up in a bun, adorned with a small crystal clip.

After looking her over, he nodded slightly. "You look good."

Every girl likes being told she looks good, and Holly Winslow was no exception. Her eyes curved into smiling crescents. She lifted her chin and teased, "When has your wifey ever *not* looked good?"

"My wifey always looks good."

Mortimer Quincy chuckled. He pulled a small vial of herbal heatstroke remedy from his pocket, stuck a straw in it, and handed it to her, gesturing for her to drink it.

Jarton Second High didn’t have air conditioning, only two large fans. It was bound to get hot, and combined with the stress of the exam, it would be easy for her to feel flustered and short of breath.

Holly Winslow took it and drank it all in one go. The next second, she couldn’t help but stick out her tongue at the taste. Mortimer Quincy let out a low chuckle and popped a chocolate ball into her mouth. "Good luck on the exam, Teacher Winslow."

"You too, Lawyer Quincy. Good luck." Looking at his face, Holly Winslow ultimately couldn’t resist reaching out and giving his cheek a couple of pinches.

They had left an hour and a half early, but the road was already jammed. The car crawled forward only a couple of meters every few minutes. Wyatt Winslow’s hands tightened on the steering wheel, his pressed lips betraying his anxiety.

Traffic was getting heavier. There had been an accident up ahead. It wasn’t serious, but an elderly woman who’d been hit was lying on the ground, throwing a tantrum and demanding the driver pay her ten thousand yuan before she’d let him leave.

The driver, seeing her outrageous demand, refused to pay, and the two started arguing by the side of the road.

The county road wasn’t wide to begin with, and with the lane blocked, traffic came to a complete standstill.

Since it was the day of the college entrance exam, many of the drivers were getting anxious, honking their horns nonstop. Someone had already started calling the traffic police.

But after several minutes, the police still hadn’t arrived. They probably couldn’t get through the jam-packed road anyway.

Wyatt Winslow, who had been silent the entire time, suddenly got out of the car. Holly Winslow watched him walk over to the hysterical old woman on the ground. She couldn’t hear his words, but she saw him take a wad of cash from his wallet and give it to the woman.

Soon after, the grandmother took the money and left, and the car was moved out of the way.

Wyatt Winslow got back in the car and restarted the engine without a word.

Holly Winslow gazed at his profile. ’This is my dad,’ she thought, ’caring for me in his own way.’

’Other people might not understand. They might think he just has money to burn. But I know that when it comes to me, Wyatt Winslow is willing to spend whatever it takes, be it time or money.’

They arrived at the entrance of Jarton Second High a few minutes past eight. The area was packed with cars, so Wyatt Winslow had no choice but to pull over temporarily on the side of the road.

He glanced at the items in Holly Winslow’s hands, confirming she had everything. "Go on in," he said in a low voice. "Don’t be nervous."

Holly Winslow suddenly threw her arms around him and said playfully, "Dad, kamsahamnida."

Wyatt Winslow knew it meant "thank you." When he had realized there was a communication gap between him and Holly Winslow, he had consulted a specialist about it.

The specialist had told him that to get along with his child, he needed to understand her—to understand the things she liked and to understand her life.

He raised a hand and patted her head. "Holly, don’t say thank you. It’s what I should do."

’I owe you for the motherly love you never had.’

"It’s not just something you should do."

Holly Winslow said affectionately, her voice a little thick. "Dad, I’ll do my best."

Only after watching her walk into the school did Wyatt Winslow drive off, stopping by the market on his way home.

For the Language Arts exam, Holly Winslow filled in the classical poetry and prose section without a single mistake. As for the other sections, she felt she did alright; the difficulty was similar to the third mock exam.

The essay prompt this time was something Holly Winslow felt a strong connection to, as she had written a similar essay before.

It was a news-based prompt: "A disabled man in his seventies scavenges for a living to support his disabled son for fifty years."

The central theme was a father’s love.

She chewed on the end of her pen, then wrote down her title: *A Silent Father’s Love*.

*If anyone were to ask me what a father’s love is, I would answer without hesitation: it is my wings, and it is the unbreakable shield that protects me.*

*He is often silent, not one for grand expressions, but I understand it all. That is his silent father’s love.*