Clan Building System: I'm not the Protagonist?!-Chapter 41: Secrets.

The scent of crushed herbs still clung faintly to Lian’er’s sleeves as they approached the guest wing of the Phoenix Soul Pavilion.

Soft light spilled from the tall, paper-screened windows, casting gentle shadows over the stone path.

The courtyard was quiet, deliberately so.

Fang Yuan had instructed the servants to avoid this section of the residence until further notice.

Felicia waited at the door, hands folded in front of her. She bowed immediately upon seeing them.

"Master Fang Yuan. Doctor Mu. The girl is inside, resting. Her condition stabilized somewhat after the elixir you gave, but her fever hasn’t dropped."

Doctor Mu nodded without pause, already stepping inside with the sure-footedness of a man who had walked through too many thresholds between life and death.

The room within was warm, quiet and dimly lit. A single lantern glowed on the table beside the bed where the girl lay.

She had been changed into clean robes, her wounds hastily bandaged, her face still pale beneath the linen.

Lian’er stepped forward without a word, gently placing her satchel on the side table and beginning to unpack gauze, tinctures, and salves.

Doctor Mu moved to the bed, examining her with firm, professional detachment.

He took her wrist, felt her pulse, then peeled back the cloth to examine her injuries.

"Deep lacerations... and there’s signs of internal bruising," he muttered, pressing lightly across her side.

"Her meridians are damaged, but not severed. Remarkable she even made it this far."

Fang Yuan stood a short distance from the bed, arms crossed loosely, watching in silence.

"She may have been running for days," he said quietly. "Found her collapsed on the outer path."

Doctor Mu raised a brow. "Cultivator?"

"Nascent Soul Realm... or she was, once. Her core’s fractured."

There was a beat of silence.

A long one.

Doctor Mu’s hands froze mid-check. His bushy brows twitched.

Lian’er, in the middle of unrolling bandages, accidentally pulled the entire bundle off the table. It hit the floor with a soft thud.

"...Nascent Soul?" Doctor Mu repeated slowly, as if trying to make sure his ancient ears hadn’t betrayed him.

Fang Yuan nodded casually. "Mm."

The old doctor stared at him, then at the unconscious girl, then back at Fang Yuan.

He blinked once.

Twice.

Then doctor Mu made a sound somewhere between a cough and a squeak.

Lian’er straightened up slowly, trying very hard not to show the way her hands had started trembling. "She... looks younger than me..."

Fang Yuan shrugged. "She might be. Or she might just be cursed with a baby face. Who knows? Just treat her as best you can."

"Yes, yes, of course." Doctor Mu snapped back into motion.

Lian’er had already unrolled a fresh sheet of bandages, hands moving gently but efficiently.

Fang Yuan’s gaze swept over her in passing.

Though her eyes remained focused on the patient, there was a subtle change in her movements, more deliberate now.

Her breath came slower, steadier, anchored by the act of healing.

In caring for another, she had tucked her feelings away.

"Her wounds aren’t infected, which is a miracle," Doctor Mu muttered. "Lian’er, spirit salve."

"Yes, master."

She moved to the bedside, dabbing the salve gently across the girl’s shoulder.

The injured woman stirred faintly at the touch, but didn’t wake.

Doctor Mu looked toward Fang Yuan again.

"She’ll live. But I’d advise no sudden qi flow through her meridians for at least a month. If her core doesn’t stabilize, she’ll never cultivate again."

Fang Yuan nodded once. "Do what you can."

"Of course." The old man glanced at him with a twinkle.

Once Lian’er finished, she straightened and reached for the nearby tray, careful not to jostle the bandages.

Just then, the doors flew open with all the subtlety of a charging bull.

Fang Jingyi burst in like a gust of wind wearing boots, her sleeves fluttering and hair wild from her rushed journey.

A smudge of black soot streaked across one cheek, and her robe was dusted with ash.

"What’s this I hear about you bringing home a girl?!" she demanded, eyes wide with scandal and curiosity. "Fang Yuan, you sly fox!"

Fang Yuan, looked up in mild horror. "Aunt—?"

"Ah, there you are, hubby!" she beamed the moment she spotted him, skipping over.

Fang Lian, who had just finished laying out medicinal salves beside the bed, nearly dropped the entire tray. Her eyes flicked to Fang Yuan in visible alarm.

Fang Yuan froze.

"Don’t listen to her," he said immediately, waving a hand like a man trying to dispel a very specific curse. "She’s joking. She always jokes. We’re aunt and nephew. There’s no way I’m her husband. You understand right?"

Fang Jingyi smirked, brushing a loose lock of hair from her cheek, the soot doing nothing to hide her naturally delicate features. "Aww, I only said ’hubby,’ not ’husband.’ You want me that badly, little Yuan?"

Fang Yuan stared at her like a man watching a mountain collapse in slow motion.

He wanted to cry.

But then, a sudden realization struck him.

...Wait. He blinked. She’s probably the only one in this whole house who doesn’t think I’m gay... hey that still doesn’t justify whatever she’s doing!

Jingyi grinned wider, clearly enjoying the chaos.

She bounced closer, peering around him toward the patient on the bed.

"So, little Yuan," she cooed, folding her hands behind her back with mock innocence, "who’s the girl? I’m dying to see what my little brother’s taste in women is like. Where did you two meet?"

Fang Yuan, now visibly exhausted, pressed a hand to his forehead. "Aunt... I’m not your ’little brother’ either. And she’s just someone i brought it because I was curious."

She ignored him completely, skipping forward with a twinkle in her eye and a giggle in her throat. freewёbn૦νeɭ.com

Fang Yuan sighed, long and soul-weary as Jingyi began humming to herself, casually inspecting the unconscious girl on the bed.

And then he noticed Fang Lian was watching him.

Her expression was unreadable at first, but her hands moved before her mouth did. She made a simple gesture, subtle but clear.

She pointed two fingers at her eyes, then at Jingyi... and then at him.

Her brow lifted in amused accusation.

So... you two?

Fang Yuan straightened, aghast. "No. It’s not like that. I just said—"

But she was already turning away, waving him off with a knowing smile.

"Ah, right. Got it. Say no more. I’ll keep your secret," she said lightly, carrying the tray in her hand as she headed toward the door.

"You can trust me."

He opened his mouth, then closed it again.

Words failed him.

Fang Yuan watched her disappear into the corridor with a bounce in her step and that infuriatingly calm smile on her face.

He gave up.

Completely.

He caught a last glimpse of her face before she left.

She had a smile on, clearly not the fake one from earlier, but a genuine one.

After her earlier silence, after the painful encounter with Fang Tian and Fang Mei, it was the first genuine smile she had worn during the whole night.

Fang Yuan exhaled and allowed himself a quiet, crooked smile of his own.

"...Well. At least someone’s feeling better."

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