Return of Black Lotus system:Taming Cheating Male Leads

Chapter 374 --374

As the old woman felt Heena’s solid, warm presence, the manic energy suddenly drained from her fragile body. She trembled violently, losing all her remaining physical strength as she fell completely limp back into Heena’s supporting arms. Samuel instantly moved in closer, his hand subtly hovering near Heena’s waist to help absorb the old woman’s weight without anyone noticing his intervention.

With the matriarch collapsed in a faint, the grand portraits destroyed, and a dead daughter standing in the flesh, the anniversary banquet was thoroughly, spectacularly doomed.

What shameless person would even dare to raise a wine glass or celebrate a marriage after a display like that? The high-society guests began exchanging hurried, awkward glances, quietly signaling their servants to call for their carriages. The heavily publicized golden wedding anniversary—an event the Marquis and Marchioness had been meticulously planning for months, aiming to solidify their political standing in the capital—was instantly reduced to a chaotic, embarrassing facade.

The entire event ended abruptly, with Heena standing entirely at the top of the social hierarchy.

By the very next morning, the details of the ruined banquet would spread like wildfire through the capital, but the true focal point of the gossip wasn’t just the miraculous resurrection. For years to come, the absolute talk of high society would be the jaw-dropping, lethal gown Heena wore. The flawless tailoring, the striking contrast of the black veil, and the sheer commanding aura she exuded completely blindsided every single Marquis and noble lady present. She hadn’t just returned to reclaim her name; she had effortlessly eclipsed the entire estate.

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Back to Preset

Slowly, the chaotic, whispering crowd began to filter out of the grand courtyard. It wasn’t because the noble guests didn’t want to stay and witness more of this jaw-dropping, high-society theatrical performance; rather, it was because they still held a modicum of fear and respect for the Marquis’s title, and staying to openly gloat over a broken golden anniversary was social suicide.

The funny thing in all of this nonsense was that absolutely no one noticed His Royal Highness, the imperial prince, who had arrived in that magnificent golden phoenix carriage. Even Heena hadn’t bothered to spare him another glance after her initial assessment. She had far bigger fish to fry than some pampered royal spectator.

As the courtyard emptied of the capital’s elite, the four adopted grooms—Kavien, and rest—began escorting the remaining high-ranking guests out the front gates, moving with rigid, robotic politeness. Heena watched them go out of the corner of her eye, secretly unable to believe how these four bastards were still acting like the pillars of the household, parading around as if they were the true, chosen heirs of the estate when the rightful bloodline was standing right in front of them. But whatever. Their time would come.

The very second the heavy oak doors closed and the courtyard was completely emptied of outsiders, the Marchioness’s tearful façade dissolved in an instant. The mourning mother vanished, replaced by a cold, calculating viper. The tears literally swirled back into her eyes as she stopped crying, her face twisting into a silent, venomous mask of pure hatred. That absolute bitch of a mother didn’t have a single drop of genuine grief in her entire body.

On the other hand, the grandmother remained entirely unbothered by her daughter-in-law’s sudden shift. The old matriarch was still looking Heena up and down, her hands trembling as she held her granddaughter’s gloved fingers.

"You look so beautiful, my child," the old woman murmured, her sharp, discerning eyes taking in the flawless silk, the pristine makeup, and the sharp, unyielding posture. "So... so incredibly different."

There was a faint, cynical edge lingering in the grandmother’s tone—a subtle, unspoken test from a woman who had spent fifty years navigating the deadliest political currents of the capital. She knew what this household was. She knew how people changed.

Heena caught the hidden test instantly. She softened her features, offering a gentle, entirely respectful smile. "Well, Grandma, when you are forced to live out there as a merchant’s daughter, you are required to learn quite a few new things just to survive. The world outside the capital doesn’t spare anyone."

Hearing that, the old matriarch’s lips curved into a proud, knowing smile. She reached up, gently patting Heena’s meticulously braided hair. "Good. Good, good, good. A daughter of this house should never be fragile."

With surprising strength, the grandmother pulled Heena toward a pair of cushioned mahogany chairs situated under the shaded veranda, ignoring the Marquis and Marchioness entirely. As they both sat down, the old woman leaned forward, her eyes locking onto Heena’s face. "Now, tell me everything. How have you been? Where have you been hiding all these years? Do not leave out a single detail."

Heena offered another reassuring smile, but before she spoke, she turned her eyes toward the quiet corner of the veranda. Samuel was standing there, his large frame melting perfectly into the shadows, his visor pulled down, looking every bit the silent, highly disciplined professional bodyguard.

"Come here," Heena called out softly.

Samuel, who had been secretly growing slightly bored watching the high-society family drama play out, walked forward with measured, heavy steps. He stopped exactly three paces away from the matriarch, placing his fist over his armored chest as he executed a flawless, low military bow.

"I greet the Matriarch of the Marquis estate," Samuel spoke, his voice dropping into a deep, gravelly baritone that perfectly matched his imposing guard armor.

The grandmother smiled faintly, her sharp eyes scanning the massive proportions of the man standing before her. She could recognize elite martial training when she saw it. She turned her head back to Heena, raising an eyebrow. "Your understanding of security is quite high, my child. This person... who is he?"

"This is the personal guard my merchant brother assigned to protect me on my journey," Heena replied smoothly, her face completely deadpan. "His name is Roni."

Samuel stood completely frozen beneath his armor. The second the word *’Roni’* left her lips, his internal composure shattered into a million pieces. Beneath his iron visor, he was violently controlling himself from bursting into hysterical, unbridled laughter.

*Roni? What the actual hell is a Roni?* he screamed mentally.

He couldn’t believe her. And yet, he knew exactly why she had done it. Heena could not take the ridiculous risk of giving this family his real name. No matter how expansive the kingdom was, Samuel was a registered, highly accomplished scholar. There were perhaps a few hundred top-tier scholars in the entire realm, not millions. If the Marquis or the Marchioness ever sent their spies to research a guard named ’Samuel,’ the paper trail would inevitably lead straight back to his father’s province, exposing her true life as a house servant and a scholar’s wife. So, she had simply pulled a ridiculous name out of thin air.

The grandmother’s brows furrowed deeply as she tasted the word. "Roni? What earth-shattering type of commoner name is that?"

Samuel, still standing at absolute attention, cleared his throat beneath his mask, deciding to take the narrative into his own hands before Heena could dig the hole deeper.

"Replying to the Matriarch," Samuel said, his voice dripping with an incredibly serious, philosophical weight.