Chapter 246: Chapter 256: Quincy the Puppy, Watch Out or You’ll Break the Keyboard Kneeling

The faintest of smiles appeared on Wyatt Winslow’s serious, stern face, softening his expression.

He didn’t pull his hand back this time.

The beef combo meal was a little sour and spicy, but it also tasted a bit "sweet."

It seemed as if his daughter before him had grown up overnight, blossoming into a graceful young woman.

When Wyatt Winslow thought of the future, a flicker of loneliness crossed his eyes, but he quickly composed himself.

He picked some beef from his own meal and placed it in Holly Winslow’s bowl. "Let me know if you want more," he said before taking a bite of rice, as if to cover up his display of affection.

"Dad, this is enough."

Holly Winslow beamed and put the beef right back in his bowl. "You eat it, Dad. You’ve gotten thinner."

Mortimer Quincy, Pantheon, and Zeke Zane walked into the cafeteria for lunch and immediately spotted the pair by the window.

Wyatt’s back was to them, so Pantheon didn’t recognize him. He tut-tutted playfully. "Mortimer, your girl’s eating with another guy. So, are you jealous or what?"

Mortimer shot him a look like he was an idiot, then walked away.

’I’m not stupid enough to walk right into the line of fire.’

’His father-in-law probably doesn’t want to see me.’

’Yeah, he definitely doesn’t want to see me.’

He’d experienced his father-in-law’s mood swings firsthand. He couldn’t remember exactly when, but he recalled the man smiling at Holly one second, only for his face to turn deadly serious the next, looking like he had the sudden urge to beat someone up, the moment he spotted Mortimer.

To be fair, Mortimer knew he hadn’t been wronged. What parent wouldn’t be furious to find out their daughter had been "tricked" into getting a marriage license without a word to them?

The only reason Wyatt hadn’t beaten him to death was for Holly’s sake.

’Expecting him to be nice to me? Not a chance.’

To Pantheon, Mortimer’s behavior seemed a bit like he was slinking away with his tail between his legs, which wasn’t like him at all.

Pantheon glanced at Holly, who was still eating, then turned to Zeke Zane with a confused look, silently asking what was going on.

Zeke Zane knew Mortimer well enough to guess that if he wasn’t making a move, it was probably someone he knew.

He gave Pantheon a wicked grin. "Why don’t you go over and see for yourself?"

Pantheon’s eyes lit up. ’Good idea!’ He jogged over. "Hey, Sis-in-law!"

The "-law" had barely left his lips when he was met with an incredibly stern face. He trailed off. "..."

’Honestly, Mortimer’s father-in-law is the most intimidating person I’ve ever met.’

’The best way to describe him would be "the dean of students."’

He looked up, scratched his head, and immediately spun around. "I want dumplings! Yeah, which counter has the dumplings?"

Holly: "..."

The corner of her mouth twitched. She glanced at Wyatt, but he seemed completely unfazed.

Pantheon scurried back to Mortimer, patting his own chest. "Mortimer, your father-in-law is here! Aren’t you going to go say hello?"

Mortimer couldn’t be bothered with him. He just got his food and found a place to sit and eat.

Pantheon, not ready to give up, kept teasing, "Don’t be such a chicken, Mortimer. That’s your future father-in-law! No, wait, your *current* father-in-law."

Mortimer stared at him grimly. A second later, he pulled out his phone and made a call. Once it connected, he said, "Uncle, Cynthia’s boyfriend wants to have a word with you."

The fact that Cynthia Owens was dating was already common knowledge in the Quincy family.

Cynthia’s father was in the middle of reviewing some documents. "Alright."

Mortimer held the phone out to Pantheon, gesturing for him to take it if he dared. Pantheon: "..."

’Fuck.’

He chickened out.

Beside them, Zeke Zane let out an unsympathetic laugh. ’A one-year-old demon trying to fight a thousand-year-old one.’

’He wouldn’t even leave a scrap behind.’

After a dozen or so seconds, Mortimer took his phone back, put it on speaker, and announced mercilessly, "Uncle, he’s shaking too much. He says he’ll talk to you next time."

Cynthia’s father’s voice came through the phone: "Alright. Tell him not to be shaking next time."

Pantheon: "..."

After hanging up, Mortimer shot a single word at him: "Chicken."

Pantheon: "..."

’Is murder illegal in this situation? Asking for a friend. Urgent.’

He ground out through clenched teeth, "Mortimer, you’re as black-hearted as a thousand-year-old demon."

Mortimer coolly accepted the "compliment." "Thank you for the praise."

Pantheon: "..."

He whipped out his phone and texted Holly: *Holly, Mortimer’s bullying me.*

Holly quickly replied: *You know I can’t control him. Take care of yourself.*

Pantheon: ...

He glumly shoveled a huge mouthful of rice into his mouth. After swallowing, he roared in a low voice, "You two are ganging up on me!"

Zeke unhurriedly twisted the knife. "And you’re just realizing they’re a couple?"

Pantheon: "..."

He decided to spread the pain. "Don’t you get all smug, Zeke! You’re in the same boat as me. Your girlfriend always sides with outsiders too."

"Like, *really* sides with them."

Zeke Zane: "..."

...

「That afternoon.」

Holly accompanied Mortimer to one of his smaller classes. Due to the scorching weather, attendance was sparse, with only about twenty-odd students showing up.

The professor, likely tired of taking attendance, skipped it. Instead, he spent a few minutes praising Mortimer and announced that the university would be awarding him a 2,000-yuan scholarship.

"All of you should learn from Mortimer. He’s an excellent student."

His words were full of satisfaction with Mortimer, giving off the vibe of a proud father.

The class let out its usual "Whoa" of envy, but they were all used to it by now. Ever since freshman year, Mortimer’s scholarships had never stopped rolling in; in fact, they just kept getting bigger.

Half of the Finance Department’s display board was covered with his photos and his numerous outstanding achievements.

For this year’s freshman orientation, the Finance Department had shamelessly used Mortimer’s photo to lure in pretty, young first-year girls.

And it had worked, attracting quite a few of them.

Mortimer glanced at the girl beside him—Holly—who was giving an exaggerated "Whoa!" He raised an eyebrow and said languidly, "What are you ’whoa-ing’ for, darling? It’s all yours."

Holly chuckled. "Quincy the Puppy," she praised, "you’re getting really smooth with your lines."

"How else are we supposed to have kids?" Mortimer leaned in close to her. "Practice makes perfect... for a daughter."

Holly: "..."

She couldn’t help but cough. ’What kind of shameless pickup line is that?’

"Hubby, do you know what the price of lust is?"

Mortimer thought for a few seconds, then said with a sincere smile, "My wife."

"No, it’s a death sentence."

Holly pinched him under the table. "I might end up a young widow."

"Because my husband got arrested for public indecency."

Hearing "arrested for public indecency," Mortimer was speechless. "..."

He broke into a laugh.

Having successfully stumped him, Holly smugly opened her book. As she flipped through the pages, she said, "You need to understand who’s spicier. Don’t you try to challenge the head of this household, Quincy the Puppy, or you’ll be kneeling on a keyboard until it shatters."

Mortimer raised an eyebrow, his gaze drifting pointedly to her chest as he said meaningfully, "You are pretty ’spicy’."

Holly: "..."

’Spicy my ass, you dog, Mortimer.’

The professor began his lecture, so Holly stopped paying attention to Quincy the Lecher. She picked up her pen and started diligently taking notes in Mortimer’s textbook.

There wasn’t much blank space left in the book. Mortimer watched as she wrote along the margins, filling them all the way to the bottom of the page.

The smile on his lips grew wider. He was starting to understand how she could fill pages and pages for a problem she didn’t even know how to solve.

If Holly knew what he was thinking, she would’ve definitely yanked his ear and made him sing "Are You Sleeping, Brother John?"

After the first period, the professor did something unprecedented: he announced he was collecting everyone’s notes.

The entire class let out a collective, "Huh?!" caught completely off guard. After half a minute of struggle, they all resignedly handed them in.

The professor looked through their notes, his expression impassive. He deducted points where they were due and added them where they were earned.

He was completely impartial.