During those four days, relatives from distant locations could travel to pay their respects, friends could visit to offer condolences, and proper mourning rituals could be observed.

After the four days of viewing, on the FIFTH day, the coffin would be transported to the burial site and interred.

Then additional memorial rituals would continue for thirteen days total—prayers, offerings, ceremonial observances.

It was a lengthy, elaborate process meant to show respect and allow proper grieving.

Samuel had bypassed basically ALL of it.

He’d rushed through the preparations in barely TWO days, had the coffin sealed and ready for burial immediately, and was planning to have his father in the ground by tomorrow morning at the latest.

When concerned relatives or household elders questioned this unseemly haste, Samuel would immediately start CRYING.

Actual tears streaming down his face as he said in a choked, emotional voice:

"I cannot bear to keep Father trapped in this suffocating house any longer! He always loved freedom, loved open spaces!"

’Sniff, sniff.’

"Father once told me that when he died, he wanted to rest in a place where he could feel the wind and see the sky, not be confined inside walls!"

’Wipe tears dramatically.’

"Every moment his body remains here, I feel like I’m betraying his final wishes! I must honor his desires, even if it means rushing the traditional observances!"

And then he would break down sobbing, covering his face with his hands.

It was an absolutely MASTERFUL performance.

No one could argue with a grieving son who was "honoring his father’s final wishes."

Even the most traditional-minded relatives would pat his shoulder sympathetically and murmur, "You’re such a filial son. Your father was blessed to have you."

Meanwhile, Samuel was internally thinking: ’Get this bastard in the ground as fast as possible before anyone starts asking too many questions about the circumstances of his death or before Maya’s allies can organize any kind of investigation.’

The System, watching Samuel’s performance from the spiritual plane, thought to himself:

’This man is TERRIFYINGLY good at manipulation.’

’Host has definitely met her match.’

’They’re both absolute monsters at scheming.’

’Perfect for each other, really.’

By evening, Heena had been given a full report by the System about everything that had transpired during her coma.

She sat by the window of their quarters, looking out at the funeral preparations in the courtyard below.

White mourning banners hung everywhere. Ceremonial attendants in white robes were arranging offerings. The coffin sat prominently in the main hall, surrounded by incense and candles.

It all looked very proper and respectful.

But Heena could see through the facade.

"Samuel’s moving fast," she observed quietly to the System. "Faster than I expected."

"Host, aren’t you impressed?" the System asked. "He completely destroyed Maya’s position, secured the inheritance, and is disposing of evidence all within three days!"

"Oh, I’m impressed," Heena agreed. "But I’m also... concerned."

"Concerned about what?"

Heena was quiet for a moment, organizing her thoughts.

"Samuel is more ruthless than I initially assessed," she said finally. "Which is good for our immediate objectives. But..."

"But?" the System prompted.

"But it means he’s going to be a PROBLEM when I need to leave," Heena finished quietly.

The System’s expression became sympathetic.

"Host, about that... have you thought about how you’re going to handle the Marquis situation? The four adopted ’husbands’? Your true identity?"

Heena sighed deeply.

"One disaster at a time, System. One disaster at a time."

She turned away from the window.

"First, we finish dealing with Maya and Chen Yifan completely. Make sure they can’t cause any more problems."

"Then?" the System asked.

"Then," Heena said with a slight smile, "I’m going to have a very interesting conversation with my dear ’mother’ at the Marquis estate."

Her smile turned predatory. 𝘧𝑟𝑒𝑒𝘸𝘦𝘣𝑛𝑜𝘷𝑒𝓁.𝘤𝘰𝓂

"I wonder how she’ll react when her ’dead’ daughter comes back to reclaim everything that was stolen from her?"

The System shivered slightly at the cold violence in Heena’s expression.

’The Marquis household has no idea what’s coming for them,’ he thought.

’Absolutely no idea.’

’This is going to be SPECTACULAR.’

---

’’[That Night]’’

Samuel finally returned to their quarters late that night, after all the funeral preparations were complete.

He’d bathed and shaved properly, finally looking like himself again instead of a grief-mad hermit.

He found Heena sitting by the window, looking out at the night sky.

"You should be resting," he said gently, approaching her.

"I’ve been resting for three days," Heena replied. "I’m tired of resting."

Samuel sat down beside her, close enough that their shoulders touched.

They sat in comfortable silence for a moment.

Then Samuel said quietly, "Thank you."

Heena looked at him with surprise. "For what?"

"For surviving," Samuel said simply. "For not leaving me."

Heena felt that uncomfortable warmth in her chest again—the feeling she kept trying to ignore.

"I’m not that easy to kill," she said, trying to keep her tone light.

"I know," Samuel agreed. "But still. Thank you."

He reached over and took her hand, threading their fingers together.

Heena looked down at their joined hands and thought:

’I’m in so much trouble.’

’I can’t afford to care about him.’

’But I do.’

’Damn it.’

Out loud, she said, "Your funeral is tomorrow morning?"

"Yes," Samuel confirmed. "Dawn ceremony. By midday, he’ll be in the ground."

"Fast," Heena observed.

"Necessary," Samuel corrected.

He looked at her seriously.

"Maya will be formally arrested tomorrow afternoon, after the funeral concludes. Chen Yifan’s superiors have already recalled him to the capital—he left this morning under guard."

"Efficient," Heena approved.

"I learned from the best," Samuel said with a slight smile.

They fell silent again.

Then Samuel said, very quietly, "When this is all over... when Maya is dealt with and the estate is settled... what happens then?"

Heena’s heart clenched.

Because she knew what he was really asking:

’What happens to us?’

’Do you stay?’

’Or do you leave?’

She didn’t have a good answer for him.

So instead, she squeezed his hand and said, "Let’s deal with tomorrow first. Then we’ll figure out the rest."

It wasn’t a promise.

But it wasn’t a rejection either.

Samuel seemed to accept that, nodding slowly.

"Tomorrow, then," he agreed.

He stood up, pulling her with him.

"Come to bed," he said. "You need proper rest, even if you’re tired of resting."

Heena allowed herself to be led to the bed, allowed Samuel to pull her into his arms, allowed herself this moment of comfort and warmth.

Tomorrow would bring funerals and arrests and the next phase of their plans.

But tonight—just for tonight—she could pretend this was simple.

That she was just a wife in her husband’s arms.

That she didn’t have four other "husbands" waiting at a Marquis estate.

That she wasn’t planning to systematically destroy an entire noble household.

That she wasn’t going to have to leave this world—and Samuel—eventually.

Just for tonight, she could pretend.

Tomorrow would come soon enough.

And with it, all the complicated, messy, painful truths she’d been avoiding.

But that was tomorrow’s problem.

Right now she just wanted to stay in his arms as his wife and feel these abs; God knows what would happen tomorrow.

Well, nothing much happened, just Samuel burn down the whole guest house.