Clan Building System: I'm not the Protagonist?!-Chapter 103: Mirrored Self [1]

Tak, tak.

Soft footsteps echoed like falling petals. A faint, graceful scent, plum blossoms filled the air.

She walked toward Fang Yuan as the sun dipped beneath the horizon, painting the sky in hues of gold and indigo.

"Clan Head," she called gently, her voice like a breeze brushing across a still lake.

Fang Yuan turned, pulled from thoughts of rings and brothers. "Oh, Du Juan."

He gestured to the stone bench. "Sit with me."

She flowed into the seat, sleeve whispering as she drew out slender wine jars. Two cups chimed softly on stone. Amber liquid glowed like trapped sunlight as she poured.

"Clan Head," she offered, pouring the amber liquid, "A drink?"

Fang Yuan glanced at the cup, then at her. He nodded lightly.

"...Sure."

Even as he reached for the cup, a thought passed through his mind.

Doesn’t she smell like plum blossoms?

A faint frown touched his lips.

Is this what Lin Zhaoyue smelled on me earlier?

His thoughts quieted as she handed him a cup. He took a sip, warm, smooth, mellow.

Then his voice shifted, calm but serious.

"I’ve been dying to know," he said, his eyes narrowing just slightly.

"Who did you face... that shattered your dantian?"

His tone held no accusation, only the quiet weight of curiosity and concern.

He already knew the woman before him had once stood at the Nascent Soul Realm.

That much had been clear when he first found her, unconscious on the street.

He hadn’t saved her out of compassion, no. It was curiosity.

What could wound someone of that caliber?

Du Juan took a sip of her wine, then slowly lowered the cup. Her gaze lifted toward the rising moon.

"You saved my life, Clan Head," she said softly. "So I won’t hold anything back."

A breath. Then—

"It was a peak Nascent Soul Saberfang," she said.

Fang Yuan’s eyes didn’t widen, but internally he seemed to ask again with the Saberfang?

Was she after the Hollow Yeklo Grass too?

He said nothing, only listened, while his mind spun quietly behind his eyes.

"I stole a herb it was guarding," she continued.

"But I wasn’t lucky enough to escape unscathed. I hid the herb before stumbling into the city... and that’s when you found me."

His voice was low, curious.

"What herb?"

Du Juan bit her lower lip, hesitating. A faint shimmer clung to her eyes.

"...A Seven-Ring Lotus," she finally whispered.

Fang Yuan blinked.

How ironic.

A herb used to repair dantian, it was costly, rare and very precious. And yet she had lost her own dantian trying to claim it.

He didn’t voice the thought. Instead, he swirled the wine in his cup and said calmly,

"If it’s still intact, I can use a favor of mine and refine a dantian repair pill with it."

He paused, then added, voice direct and steady, "You do wish to be healed, don’t you?"

Du Juan looked up, startled. Her lips parted slightly.

"Why...?" she murmured.

"Why are you going so far for me?"

It wasn’t suspicion in her voice, it was disbelief.

Her dantian had been destroyed. She was as good as dead in the cultivation world.

But this man... 𝚏𝗿𝗲𝐞𝚠𝕖𝐛𝗻𝗼𝐯𝕖𝚕.𝚌𝗼𝗺

He had picked her up from the gutter, tended to her wounds, gave her a roof.

And now, he was offering to restore the very core of her power?

No one does that for free.

He probably wanted the Seven-Ring Lotus and was just acting kind to have it... right?

Fang Yuan didn’t know what thoughts passed through her mind, but he could sense her unease.

He exhaled slowly and said,

"I desire your strength."

His tone turned resolute.

"In exchange for healing you, I want you to serve as the Fang Family’s guardian, for fifty years."

His eyes met hers, firm.

"I know recovering your dantian won’t return you to Nascent Soul overnight. But with enough time and the right resources, you’ll get there again."

He leaned back slightly.

"...And that’s an investment I’m willing to make."

Fang Yuan let the offer hang in the twilight air, the scent of plum blossoms and wine mingling between them. "So, what do you say?"

Du Juan didn’t answer right away.

But for the first time in weeks, her heart settled.

Oh.

Somehow... that made everything easier.

But the relief that had settled a second ago was replaced by a fierce, desperate resolve. She took a slow breath, steeling herself.

"Clan Head," she began, her voice low but unwavering, "Your offer... it is more generous than I dared hope. But..." She met his gaze directly, her dark eyes holding a plea wrapped in iron. "Can the terms be altered?"

Fang Yuan’s brow lifted fractionally, curiosity sparking in his calm expression. He remained silent, inviting her to continue.

"Instead of one pill... could you refine two?" The request hung heavy in the quiet.

Before he could react, she pressed on, her words gaining momentum. "In exchange... I offer not fifty years of service to the Fang Family, but two hundred."

Fang Yuan stilled. Two hundred years? For a Nascent Soul cultivator, that was easily half their potential lifespan.

It wasn’t just service; it was a monumental sacrifice of her future freedom.

His gaze sharpened, searching her face. Why such an extreme counter-offer? What could possibly warrant this?

Du Juan saw the unspoken questions in his eyes. She looked down at her cup, the amber liquid catching the last embers of the sunset.

A profound sadness, ancient and deep, softened her features.

"You asked who shattered my dantian... and why I sought the Lotus," she murmured. Her voice, usually so composed, held a tremor.

"The truth is... I wasn’t seeking it for myself. Not originally."

She paused, gathering strength. "I... have a little sister. Our parents died when she was barely more than an infant. I raised her."

A flicker of warmth, instantly shadowed by grief, crossed her face. "I raised her as my own."

Fang Yuan felt the words land with unexpected weight.

The image of a tiny Fang Tian, wide-eyed and trusting after their parents’ sudden passing, flashed vividly in his mind.

The sleepless nights, the fierce protectiveness, the overwhelming responsibility of being both brother and parent... it resonated with a painful familiarity.

He didn’t move, didn’t speak, but his stillness deepened, becoming an intense, listening silence.