Return of Black Lotus system:Taming Cheating Male Leads

Chapter 378 --378

Heena offered her a lovely, entirely sweet smile, holding her composure perfectly until the grandmother finally turned and walked out of the grand suite.

The heavy oak doors clicked shut, leaving only Samuel inside the room.

The very second the latch clicked, Heena’s flawless, aristocratic expression completely broke. Her posture collapsed, her shoulders dropping instantly as she rolled her eyes back and let out a massive, suffocatingly deep breath.

Seeing her drop the act so violently, Samuel walked closer, unlatching his heavy iron visor and sliding it up. "What happened, wife? From what I just saw, your grandmother truly loves you to pieces."

Heena shot him a flat look. "Well, of course she does. She’s my grandma."

Samuel’s lips twitched into a knowing grin. "Then why the hell are you looking so utterly exhausted and miserable?"

"Oh, really? You want to know why?" Heena’s expression instantly turned fierce—viciously, dangerously fierce. She raised her arm, pointing a sharp, accusatory finger straight at his chest. "Whose fault do you think it is that I’m feeling so incredibly tired, angry, and physically broken right now, huh?"

Samuel’s gaze suddenly drifted, his eyes slightly avoiding hers as a faint, guilty cough escaped his throat.

Heena marched right up to him, her finger practically jabbing into the center of his forehead. "You! You are a literal top-tier scholar! Shouldn’t you be out somewhere doing your actual academic work? Why the heck are you following me all the way into this den of vipers just to torment my lower back?"

Samuel didn’t back away. Instead, a slow, incredibly charming smile spread across his face. He reached out with a lightning-fast reflex, gently grabbing her pointing finger. Before she could pull it back, he brought it straight to his lips and gave the tip of her finger a playful, sharp little bite.

Heena violently yanked her hand away, rubbing her finger as she glared at him. "Are you a literal dog or what?!"

Samuel looked down at her, his eyes dancing with pure mischief. "Woof!"

Heena stared at him, utterly dumbfounded by his complete lack of shame. She groaned, shaking her head. "Listen to me, I am already highly irritated today. Stop irritating me more."

Instead of obeying, Samuel stepped directly into her personal space. He caught her hand, pulling her flush against his armored chest as his large arm securely wrapped around her waist. Tilting his head down, he gave the top of her head a gentle, affectionate tap with his own forehead.

"Well, I ’could’ be like all those other boring scholars," Samuel murmured, his voice dropping into a low, private rumble as he held her tight. "I could sit in a dusty library, studying dry legal logic all day long. But what can I do? I have such an incredibly interesting, lovely wife. If I actually go to work and leave you unsupervised, God only knows if those four idiots out there will try to steal you away from me."

Heena arched an eyebrow, looking up at his devastatingly handsome face. "Oh? Are you suddenly not confident in your own looks, Scholar Samuel?"

"Of course I am confident in my looks," he countered smoothly, tightening his grip on her waist. "But what I am ’not’ confident in... is my wife’s easily distracted heart."

Heena’s eyes narrowed. "Did you just question my character?"

Samuel reached up, casually tapping the tip of her nose with his finger. "Wife, you have literally gotten yourself lost five separate times in the capital just because you were too busy staring at attractive men and women on the streets. And you are saying this to me with a straight face?"

Heena paused mid-glare.

’Okay... fine. That actually makes sense,’ she grudgingly admitted to herself. But she still kept her face tightly twisted into an angry pout. "You absolute fool."

Reaching down, she aggressively grabbed his hand—the one that wasn’t covered by his guard armor. Pulling a pair of fine leather gloves out of her gown pocket, she began forcibly shoving his hand into them.

"You’re supposed to be a brilliant scholar, yet you’re out here acting like a hardened knight," she muttered sharply, her fingers brushing against his skin. "At least have the common sense to hide your ridiculously pale, elegant hands. If anyone sees these uncalloused fingers, they’ll know instantly you’ve never held a sword in your life."

Samuel just smiled down at her, entirely amused by her aggressive care. He flipped his palm, looking at his long, smooth fingers. "What do you mean? My hands are lovely."

Heena scoffed, shoving the glove completely over his wrist. "No. As a man in a guard uniform, your hands are completely useless."

Samuel leaned in closer, his broad chest pressing slightly against her arm as his voice dropped into that soft, impossibly warm tone that always made her skin prickle. "Well, at least it is good to hold something else, you know?" A thoroughly shameless, wicked smile danced across his lips.

Heena’s face literally froze. For a fraction of a second, her brain short-circuited. Then, her survival instincts took over; she raised her fist and smacked him directly in the stomach.

*Thud.*

Samuel instantly grabbed his abdomen, hunching over with a dramatic groan, though his eyes were still dancing with laughter. "What type of wife hits her husband all the time?"

Heena glared at him with an expression of pure, unadulterated disgust. "Well, the one whose waist is still hurting from your antics last night!"

Hearing that, Samuel paused, a rare, genuinely awkward cough escaping his lips. He rubbed the back of his neck, his ears turning a faint shade of pink. He had to admit, he had gotten a little too carried away last night. He had thought that after her long journey back to the capital she wouldn’t be able to handle much, so he had... overcompensated. Even a terrifyingly brilliant scholar like him knew when he was caught red-handed.

Trying to shift the focus, Heena looked Samuel up and down, her eyes scanning his ridiculous disguise. "Anyway, what type of personal guard wears these types of clothes?"

Samuel touched the mask resting on his face. It was the kind of half-mask you would typically see in a costume drama or a modern cosplay event. From her childhood, Heena had never been able to understand one fundamental rule of fiction: how the heck do these tiny masks actually cover a person’s identity?

Granted, Samuel’s mask was crafted a bit better than most. It covered half of his eyes, the bridge of his nose, and swept down to conceal half of his cheek on one side. It looked incredibly striking against his sharp jawline. But she still couldn’t comprehend it. If he took this stupid thing off in front of someone and walked down the street, which absolute idiot wouldn’t immediately recognize that the "lethal personal guard" and the "elegant province scholar" were the exact same man?

"Well," Samuel murmured, adjusting the strap with a sheepish grin. "I thought it looked good."

Heena rolled her eyes, assessing the rest of him. Underneath the guard pieces, he was wearing a navy blue robe—the exact shade and simple cut that estate servants usually wore. The under-robe was a stark, clean white, layered beneath a deep navy-and-black upper garment, and his wrists were bound tight with black leather bands. Combined with the mask, the contrast made him look rugged, dangerous, and utterly gorgeous.

But then, Heena’s eyes drifted down to his feet. She froze.