Reborn with My Genius Husband

Chapter 194: A Scholar Can Be Killed, But Not Kissed

Holly Winslow shot him a sidelong glance. "..."

’I should’ve known this guy doesn’t do things the normal way. Why did I even bother asking?’

She forced a smile. "May I ask, Holly Winslow’s dear husband, how exactly do you pull strings?"

"A five-star kiss and a glowing review will get the connection sorted," Mortimer Quincy said, raising an eyebrow with a roguish grin.

Holly Winslow: "..."

Looking as if she’d rather die than sell her body, she took a step back. "A gentleman can be killed, but not kissed."

"Quincy the Puppy, you can just give up on that idea."

Hearing her "a gentleman can be killed, but not kissed," Mortimer Quincy chuckled. He wrapped a long arm around her, pulling her into his embrace. "Got it. My dear wife is hinting that I can *do* it."

’Do it, my ass!’

Holly Winslow choked on her own spit. She coughed a few times and shot him a glare, only to hear him add shamelessly, "Make love for a glowing review, and the connection will be even stronger."

Holly Winslow: "..."

She stuck her tongue out at him. "Bad review! A five-star bad review!" With that, she ran off.

...

The "making love" part never happened, but the strings were successfully pulled. Holly Winslow was the only one in her entire dorm who managed to get into a club—the one for the finance department.

The rumor was that she was the only "plus-one" from another department.

"..."

’If I’d known it would be like this, I wouldn’t have bothered with the credits. Anything would be better than having dozens of pairs of eyes staring at me like I’m a monkey in a circus.’

She had just stepped through the classroom door when she backed right out again, deciding to wait for Mortimer Quincy so they could go in together.

She went to the top of the stairs to call Mortimer Quincy, but he didn’t pick up.

She took a deep breath, planning to charge into the classroom in one go. But just as she turned, she met Mortimer Quincy’s smiling gaze. He raised an eyebrow. "Playing hide-and-seek, darling?"

"Hide-and-seek, my ass."

Holly Winslow shot him an irritated glare, then pouted. "Couldn’t you have pulled strings to get into *my* department’s club?"

Mortimer Quincy shrugged innocently. "The ’making love’ part didn’t happen, so the strings could only reach as far as my department."

Holly Winslow: "..."

She jabbed him in the chest with her elbow, warning him with a mock-fierce tone, "Don’t get too cocky. Be careful, or the university president might want a word with you."

The scoundrel simply replied, "To discuss when we’re getting married?"

Holly Winslow: "..."

Seeing her dazed and adorable look, Mortimer Quincy couldn’t help but lean down and give her a quick kiss. "Darling, clear your schedule. Let’s go register our marriage."

Holly Winslow couldn’t resist pinching him to bring him back to reality. "Sorry, but your age doesn’t permit it."

After speaking, she lifted her chin smugly. "Next year, I’ll be of legal age. I can marry whoever I want to... OUCH..."

Someone had tapped her on the head.

Mortimer Quincy was staring at her with a dark, dangerous glint in his eyes. "Just you try it."

"I’ll let you know what the word... ’rape’... means." He drew out the last word slowly.

Holly Winslow: "..."

She chickened out, shoving the book in her hands into his. "Here, hold this."

The moment the two of them entered the classroom, all eyes were on them. Holly Winslow was about to hurry to her seat when someone took her hand.

She turned her head to see the boy’s profile sharply defined under the bright lights, his eyes deep and intense.

’When this scoundrel keeps his mouth shut, he really does fit the ideal standard of beauty for most women.’

’He’s the complete package, aesthetically speaking.’

’No wonder they say you should marry someone handsome. No matter how angry you get, you can just look at their face and forgive them.’

Seeing her staring at him, Mortimer Quincy’s eyes narrowed and his Adam’s apple bobbed. "Are you sure you want to... kissy-kiss... right now?"

Holly Winslow: "..."

’Quincy the Lecher, just shut up!’

After the club president gave an enthusiastic speech from the stage about the club’s "glorious history" and "achievements," he announced the first activity for the new members: a debate competition.

The debate topic was: For urban commercial banks, which creates more value—compliance or innovation?

The president then began assigning people to take turns at a duty station on campus to recruit finance students for the debate competition.

The first-place prize was one thousand yuan.

Finally, he added, "Club members can participate too. Let’s try to win that prize money for ourselves."

Holly Winslow and Mortimer Quincy were scheduled for duty the next day at noon, in the open area outside the cafeteria.

On the day of their shift, it was raining.

Holly Winslow only had one class that morning. At eleven o’clock, the club president @’d her and a few others in the group chat, telling them to head to their post.

Knowing it would be cold, she had worn thick clothes. But the tent was drafty on all sides, and she was so cold she had to pull her head into her collar. She glanced at her watch; classes would be over in five or six minutes.

She messaged Mortimer Quincy, telling him to go back to his dorm after class to change into warmer clothes and to bring a jacket for her on his way.

The bell had just rung to signal the end of class when Mortimer Quincy arrived. Holly Winslow stared, stunned for a moment, before offering him a stool. "Did you skip class?"

"No, it was an exam. You can leave as soon as you’re finished."

Mortimer Quincy took off his denim jacket and draped it over her shoulders. He glanced at her legs. "I’ll go back and get you more clothes."

"I’m okay. You should wear it."

Holly Winslow tried to give it back, but Mortimer Quincy held her hand down. It was icy cold. He frowned. "Go sit in the cafeteria for a bit."

She wasn’t on duty alone; two other guys were there, shivering and playing games on their phones. Holly Winslow felt it wasn’t right to leave, but she couldn’t argue with Mortimer Quincy’s insistence.

The other two guys didn’t say anything either.

Holly Winslow went and bought four cups of hot milk tea. After giving two to the other guys, she sat down at a table near the cafeteria entrance to wait.

Worried that Mortimer Quincy’s milk tea would get cold, she tucked it inside her coat to keep it warm.

In the "Little Fairies" group chat.

Anna Willow sent a message, @’ing her: Holly, I’m at your university! Where are you? I’m coming to hang out.

Holly Winslow was a little surprised: I’m at the entrance of Cafeteria No. 3. Where are you?

Anna Willow: I just got to the main gate. I don’t have classes this afternoon, so I came to find you. Do you have class?

Holly Winslow: No, but I won’t be free until after one.

Anna Willow: Let’s go clothes shopping! I have nothing to wear.

Holly Winslow: Okay.

Iris Kensington popped up: You guys are ditching me to go shopping? I feel so unloved.

Anna Willow: You, who always ditches her friends for a guy, have no right to speak. Hmph.

While Holly Winslow was busy chatting with her friends, a group of sophomore guys nearby were watching her. One in a black hoodie said, "That girl’s really pretty."

One of them, who had been a freshman orientation leader, said while slurping his noodles, "She’s already taken. By the freshman who got a perfect score, the top science student."

As if that wasn’t demoralizing enough, he added, "And the guy’s super handsome—this year’s campus heartthrob. His family’s pretty rich, too."

"So don’t even think about it."

The guy in the black hoodie wasn’t convinced. "Hey, maybe she’s into my type."

The noodle-eater rolled his eyes at him, feeling the need to give him a reality check. "You’re a junior and you still don’t have a girlfriend. Don’t you have a goddamn clue?"

The words hit the guy like a knife to the heart. "..."

’YOU! SON! OF! A! BITCH! I’LL! CURSE! YOUR! WHOLE! DAMN! FAMILY!’

A few minutes later, Mortimer Quincy returned, holding one of his trench coats and motioning for Holly Winslow to put it on.

As she slowly got up, she pulled the cup of milk tea from inside her coat. "It’s still warm."

Mortimer Quincy didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. He patted her head dotingly. "Darling, you could have just waited until I got back to buy the milk tea."

’My girl is so damn adorable, it’s ridiculous.’

Holly Winslow: "..."

Mortimer Quincy’s trench coat reached all the way to her ankles, and she immediately felt much warmer.

Perhaps because the handsome god Mortimer Quincy was now presiding over the booth, far more people came to sign up than the day before. Holly Winslow found herself busy registering their information.

Some girls used the pretense of asking about the competition to talk to Mortimer Quincy. "Excuse me, what’s this debate competition about?"

A hint of impatience in his eyes, Mortimer Quincy simply pointed to the large poster behind him, gesturing for them to read it themselves.