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ArabicArknights: The Holy Son's Leisurely Life — Chapter 37
Chapter 37: Spoil Me, Big Brother
Let me reiterate: Lucian was usually a very frugal man.
He considered himself a humble working-class migrant, grinding away in Lungmen to earn enough LMD to eventually buy a house, find a wife, and settle down in a massive metropolis. If he failed to scrape together enough savings, his only alternative was utterly tragic—he would be forced to return home, inherit the absolute loyalty of millions, and resume his throne as the supreme Holy Son of Laterano.
So, even though his little tea shop was turning a decent profit, Lucian remained a proletarian at heart, deeply envious of the ultra-rich. If a wealthy heiress were to suddenly slap a limitless black card against his chest to ‘buy’ him, he wouldn’t have the strength to refuse.
Such was the deep evil of capitalism. He mourned its cruelty while secretly wishing to be its victim, forced to swallow his pride and endure.
“I’m tired.”
Swire, Lungmen’s premier wealthy second-generation heiress—affectionately dubbed the ‘Golden Tigress of Lungmen’—was currently parading through her own family’s luxury shopping mall, radiating the absolute aura of an aristocratic young miss.
She stopped in her tracks, raising her delicate chin to signal the Sankta carrying her bags.
Lucian, written as ‘Holy Son’but pronounced as’pack mule’, immediately snapped to attention and scanned the gleaming marble concourse for a resting spot. “Right this way, Miss Swire. Please, right this way.”
He set down the mountain of designer luggage and offered her a wide, perfectly practiced retail smile.
Today’s Miss Swire was dressed to kill. She had swapped her usual Lungmen Guard Department uniform for a pure white spaghetti-strap dress paired with immaculate white heels. Her shoulders and collarbones were exposed, the skin smoother than premium silk, and her brilliant blonde hair had clearly just been styled at a high-end salon. She looked ready to attend Queen Victoria’s royal birthday banquet, not a casual afternoon shopping trip.
Presenting such a devastatingly beautiful appearance, she had come to demand that Lucian finally fulfill his promise.
He had originally agreed to take her shopping. But before they could meet, the Angelina incident had erupted, and Lucian had fed Swire a flimsy lie about eating bento boxes in a back alley with Exusiai.
It would be a miracle if she wasn’t furious.
But Swire was a fiercely intelligent woman. Although she had been violently embarrassed at the time, she quickly pieced the truth together. How could Lucian possibly be fooling around with Exusiai? Compared to that hyperactive red-haired tomboy, the statistical probability of him doing something scandalous with Ch’en Hui-chieh in a Guard Department interrogation room was actually higher. If this man had truly crossed that line with Exusiai, their child would already be calling Swire ‘Auntie’.
Confident in her deduction, Swire realized Lucian was just bluffing the Guard Department to cover for an Infected girl. She wasn’t particularly angry about the rescue itself.
Understanding his motives was one thing; her bruised ego was another. Of all the excuses he could have pulled from thin air, he chose to tell her he was busy with another woman, completely disregarding her feelings.
Therefore, Swire had made up her mind. Today, she was going to make him suffer beautifully. She would remind him that a woman of the Swire family was not to be trifled with.
She refused to take another step, her amber eyes narrowing into dangerous slits. “I. Am. Tired.”
Lucian’s brain spun up like a supercomputer, rapidly deciphering the young miss’s riddle. The VIP resting lounge was only ten meters ahead, yet she refused to walk. She was clearly projecting a very specific aura: I want to be pampered, be a good big brother and spoil me.
What was he supposed to do? Use ancient grand magic to spatially teleport her to the sofa?
Understanding his assignment, Lucian turned his back to her and squatted down. “Please, My Lady.”
“…What are you doing?” Swire looked at his broad back with deep suspicion.
Lucian glanced over his shoulder. “Aren’t you asking for a piggyback ride? Hop on. Oh, wait, you’re wearing a dress. Remember to bunch the fabric up a bit. Don’t spread your legs too wide or you’ll tear the skirt, pfft—”
“You. Are. Playing. Dumb. Again!”
Swire lunged forward, grabbing his face with both hands and squishing his cheeks together with iron-grip strength.
Lucian knew perfectly well she was wearing a dress in broad daylight, yet he deliberately concluded he should give her a piggyback ride instead of carrying her in his arms. Anyone would find that infuriating.
But he had his reasons.
“Listen to me! I have a legitimate tactical justification!”
After Swire reluctantly released his abused cheeks, Lucian rubbed his face and sighed. “I thought about it carefully. This is your family’s mall, right? The most luxurious commercial center in all of Lungmen. Just by standing here, you’re generating free advertising. Look around, a massive crowd has been staring at us for the last five minutes.”
He smiled and offered a polite wave to the stunned onlookers whispering behind the storefront glass. Swire was a local celebrity, as recognizable in Lungmen as any elite idol.
Lucian shrugged. “If I give you a piggyback ride, people will just assume I’m a servant working like an ox. But if I carry you in my arms? That would spark a massive scandal. You are the daughter of a major conglomerate and a high-ranking police superintendent. A public romance with a civilian is bad for you both publicly and privately.”
His reasoning sounded so cautious, so perfectly considerate of her reputation, that an outsider might think he was a hopelessly devoted servant trying to protect the woman he loved.
However, Swire had known this man for more than a day or two.
She completely dropped her refined aristocratic image, raising a sharp eyebrow. “You’re full of grand logic, but my entire goal today is to start a scandal with you. Don’t try to change the subject.”
“Tch.” Lucian clicked his tongue, showing zero respect for the heiress. He let out a long breath. “Alright, alright, my mistake. You want a hug, right? Come here.”
“Go to hell.” Swire punched him lightly in the chest, then immediately took the opportunity to loop her arms around his.
The fierce young miss, who was absolutely merciless with her words, suddenly acted like a delicate little bird, leaning her soft weight entirely against his side.
Her long eyelashes fluttered as she looked up at him. “If you dare say I’m heavy, I’ll kill you. Walk slowly. Treat me like your secretly beloved first love, gentle and sweet.”
“Uh… but I don’t really have a first love… Ow.”
Lucian’s retort was cut short as Swire’s fingers found the soft flesh of his waist and pinched hard. He wisely snapped his mouth shut.
Honestly, the moment a woman learned how to target a man’s waist, he completely lost all tactical use in the relationship. Was this fair?
Left with no other options, Lucian matched Swire’s slow, deliberate pace, letting her lean comfortably against his shoulder.
In the beginning, Swire hadn’t looked twice at him; they were strictly a Guard Department officer and a civilian informant. Even after her feelings began to shift, Lucian had maintained a rigid, superficial boundary between them. But Swire had grown increasingly impatient with his unyielding attitude, eventually tearing down all pretenses and going purely on the offensive.
It took a terrifying amount of courage. Swire usually seemed approachable, but she was a true Victorian noblewoman, elite in both mind and status.
When they finally reached the plush sofas of the resting area and sat down, she didn’t let go of his arm. Instead, she intimately rested her head against his shoulder, her golden hair brushing his neck.
Her boldness was staggering. A high-society heiress, one of the wealthiest women in Victoria, openly displaying passionate affection for a man with no noble title in the middle of a public mall. It was audacious.
The only thing Lucian could do was pretend to be a piece of dead wood, staring straight ahead and silently counting backwards from a thousand by sevens to keep his heart rate steady.
“Hey.” Swire tilted her chin, looking up at him from a forty-five-degree angle. “You can pretty much lay your cards on the table with me now. What will it take for you to agree to marry into my family? Tell me.”
Thump, thump, thud…
Lucian swallowed hard. ‘Oh no, this Victorian tigress is actually getting serious.’
It was true. His game of playing hard to get had dragged on a bit too long; it was time to give her a proper answer.
He pondered the question deeply, searching for a relatively reasonable condition, before speaking with extreme caution.
“Then… how about… all of Victoria as a dowry?”