Samuel slowly pushed himself up from the ground, rubbing his bruised hip and groaning in genuine pain. He looked up at her, a wry, pained smile tugging at his lips. "What a thoroughly nice way of greeting your husband."

Heena looked down at him, her face a mask of absolute, freezing coldness. "Get me something to eat. Now."

Seeing the lethal, stormy glint in her eyes, Samuel knew he was skating on incredibly thin ice. She was definitely beyond angry. Wisely choosing survival over a witty retort, he shut his mouth, scrambled to his feet, and directly went outside to fetch her food. After all, she had slept through a whole day and hadn’t eaten a single bite for hours; her anger was fueled by pure, primal hunger.

It didn’t take long before the door clicked open again. Samuel practically rushed back into the room, breathing slightly hard as if he had run a marathon to the inn’s kitchen and back.

But the moment Heena’s eyes landed on the tray, her eyelids violently twitched.

It wasn’t the glorious, spice-laden feast from the night before. Instead, sitting on the tray was a single bowl of watery, plain white congee—the sad, over-boiled kind of rice you get when someone pours way too much water into the pot. It had nothing but a pinch of salt mixed into it, with a tiny, lonely side dish of spicy chili pickle.

Heena stared at the depressing bowl, then slowly raised her eyes to glare at him.

Sensing the impending drop in temperature, Samuel quickly reached into his pocket. With an air of absolute triumph, he pulled out a freshly cut, raw onion. He casually dropped the raw onion chunks directly into the watery rice, dusted his hands off, and offered her a bright, proud smile. "Here. It adds flavor."

Oh, good god.

Heena’s eyelid twitched so hard it practically spammed. The sheer, unmitigated audacity of this man—burning down his father’s estate for her shopping but feeding her a sad bowl of salted dishwater and a raw pocket-onion after destroying her body—completely shattered her restraint.

"You fucking bastard—!" Heena roared, shooting upward with a sudden, murderous burst of adrenaline.

But the victory was short-lived. The exact second her torso went upright, a sharp, blinding agony sliced directly through her lower back and waist. The sheer soreness slammed into her nerves like a physical wall.

"Ah—!"

Heena let out a pathetic, strangled groan of pure pain as her strength completely vanished, sending her crashing right back down onto the pillows. She lay there, defeated by her own anatomy, glaring a hole into the ceiling while clutching her aching side.

Samuel immediately rushed to her side, his dark eyes wide and looking a little whacked with genuine concern. "Are you okay?"

But beneath that panicked facade, Heena’s sharp gaze caught it—a tiny, fleeting glimpse of a smile on his face. One corner of his lips was lifting up, betraying his deep amusement.

Seeing this, Heena directly glared at him through the pillows. "What are you laughing about?"

Samuel quickly shook his head, his face instantly blanking into innocence. "I’m not laughing."

"Oh, really?" Heena growled, her voice dangerous.

Samuel suddenly nodded with total seriousness. Believe it or not, if Heena’s body weren’t hurting like absolute hell, she would have beaten this man to a pulp right then and there.

Off to the side, the System was desperately clutching his own wrist, trying to control his wild laughter. He couldn’t believe how Samuel and Larus were so entirely different. Larus was like a soft, sweet piece of cotton candy, whereas this Samuel was like a piece of incredibly stubborn, sticky gum. Before this, the System had been worried sick doing background research, terrified that Larus and Samuel might actually be the same person or closely linked. But seeing this unhinged behavior? Thank God. He had been worried for absolutely nothing. There was no way.

Heena pointed a trembling, angry finger at the tragic tray on the table. "What the heck is that?"

Samuel looked at the bowl, deliberately avoiding her eyes. "Come and sit first." 𝕗𝗿𝕖𝐞𝐰𝗲𝕓𝐧𝕠𝕧𝗲𝐥.𝚌𝐨𝚖

"Tell me," Heena demanded, her brows knitting fiercely. "Did you gamble away all our money, or did we suddenly go into massive debt?"

Samuel vigorously shook his head. "What are you talking about, wife? I have been with you this entire time. How could I possibly gamble away our wealth?"

"So did I somehow spend all of your money?"

"Of course not," he replied smoothly. "We still have quite a bit left."

"Then explain to me," Heena hissed, her patience entirely snapped, "why the fuck am I being served rice water and a raw pocket-onion?!"

Samuel cleared his throat, his eyes darting toward the window shutters. "Well... when I went down to the front desk, the inn staff told me that this specific meal is exceptionally good for health."

Heena stared at him, her eyelids twitching violently. *Wait, what?* "The front desk? They said this garbage is good for my health?"

Samuel kept avoiding her eyes, looking incredibly suspicious. Heena frowned deeply, her analytical mind immediately sensing that something was profoundly wrong. Why on earth would the front desk randomly give her sick-bed rations? And why would they care?

Suddenly, Samuel mumbled, "They... well, they asked me why you hadn’t come downstairs for two whole days. Since I am registered as your guardian on the inn’s ledger, I couldn’t exactly tell them the truth—that I was helping my wife spend quality time in bed. So..."

Heena froze. "Stop shuffling your feet. What the heck did you say to them?"

Avoiding her gaze entirely now, Samuel muttered, "Well... I told them that you were feeling quite unwell. That you were deeply tired, your legs were hurting, and your feet were heavily swollen."

Heena grabbed her head, a cold dread washing over her. It didn’t take a genius to figure out exactly what the inn staff had deduced from that description.

"You fucking idiot!" she swore out loud.

She realized with a jolt that ever since she married Samuel, her vocabulary had degenerated into a steady stream of swear words she couldn’t even count. What the heck had he insinuated?

Now she perfectly understood why the staff had prepared rice water and raw onion. In this era, there was a widespread, deeply ingrained traditional rule among commoners: they believed a pregnant woman should eat an incredibly sparse, restrictive diet so the child would remain small. A smaller baby meant an easier delivery that wouldn’t cause the mother fatal pain.

It didn’t take her long, or require any complex mathematical equations, to realize the entire inn thought she was pregnant.

She glared at Samuel, her jaw dropping. "Have you completely gone crazy?!"

"They asked me so hurriedly!" Samuel defended himself, looking at her with wide, utterly lovely, pleading eyes. "I had no other option, wife! You know I couldn’t just tell them the real reason it was so painful for you to walk. How could I say that to other people?"

"You could have told them I tied my back in a room! Say literally anything else!" Heena grabbed her head, groaning. God, her life was absolute hell.