Clan Building System: I'm not the Protagonist?!-Chapter 88: Can I wash your back?

Fang Yuan’s eyes narrowed the moment the voice echoed behind him.

He turned around in a flash.

But nothing..... There was no one.

The bath chamber was empty. Steam curled gently in the air, shadows danced along the lacquered walls, but no figure stood behind him.

His expression darkened.

In the next breath, his divine sense surged forth like a tide, sweeping through every inch of the chamber, enveloping walls, ceiling, even the faintest speck of dust.

Mid-stage Nascent Soul.

Lin Zhaoyue was no fragile maiden, if she willed it, she could raze half the Fang estate and vanish before the guards even blinked.

If Fang Yuan weren’t here, she could’ve even left behind a trail of chaos and no one would’ve known the perpetrator.

And yet... nothing. There was no trace of her presence. No ripple in the qi around him.

Until another giggle appeared, whisper-light, but unmistakable.

"Husband~ ah, you’re searching for me so hard... makes me wish I was there with you."

His entire body stilled.

The sound hadn’t come from outside.

It had come from....

His gaze fell toward the edge of the bath. The hairpin.

A chill slid down his spine despite the warmth of the water.

Could it transmit image to the other party? Or was it only voice?

But then, her next words left no doubt.

"Ah~" she moaned softly, breathy, as if watching him from mere inches away. "Husband, your body is too good... I want to draw it and hang it on my wall."

Fang Yuan’s eyes twitched.

With a flick of his wrist and a flash of cold qi, the hairpin shot from the edge of the bath like a comet, slamming into the far wall and clattering to the floor of the chamber with a sharp metallic ring.

He then dropped his entire body low into the water, letting the heat swallow him whole.

His face sank beneath the surface but not before a muttered curse slipped past his lips.

"...This woman."

Meanwhile, at the southern side of the pavilion...

Fang Jingyi sat cross-legged on a silk cushion, robes slightly askew, her sleeves rolled up as though preparing for battle.

Before her, a low table was cluttered with scattered spirit wine jars, half-eaten peanuts, and a deck of lovingly playing cards, each one etched with ancient figures and strange beasts.

Across from her sat a girl who looked barely older than twenty. Her long hair was tied in a loose braid, her features soft but alert.

There was a natural grace to the way she moved, but her qi betrayed the truth beneath her skin, unstable, like a cracked dam barely holding its waters.

Her dantian had been shattered.

A ruined cultivator.

Still, she smiled faintly as she picked up her hand of cards. She was trying, earnestly so, as Fang Jingyi taught her yet another round of the strange game.

They were playing Heavenly Flux, a gambler’s game from the outer sect taverns.

A mix of bluffing, number-matching, and betting, played with a 108-card deck infused with mock spiritual energies like "Heavenly Veins," "Tribulation Jokers," and the dreaded "Void Card."

"Ha!" Fang Jingyi slammed down her final card with such force the wine nearly spilled.

"That’s five pairs of elemental sets, thank you very much! I win again!" she declared, tossing her head back and gulping down another mouthful of crimson spirit wine with the flair of a drunken war hero.

Then, slamming her cup down with unnecessary drama, she leaned toward her companion and declared with unshakable conviction, "You know... my nephew, hic he really is a good man."

The girl blinked, lips pursing into a polite smile as she folded her cards.

Internally, she sighed for the hundredth time:

You’ve said that a thousand times already,... I know. Your nephew is a saint. A divine cultivator. A golden dragon wrapped in human skin. I get it.

Outwardly, though, she dipped her head modestly and said with the sweetest voice she could muster, "Ah, I see, Elder Jingyi. What a good nephew you have indeed."

Fang Jingyi squinted at her suspiciously through bleary eyes, tilting her cup as if the girl’s sincerity could be measured by how much wine remained in her hand.

"Eh hic you... you don’t hic believe me, do you?"

She pointed an unsteady finger at the girl, then wobbled forward dramatically, nearly face-planting onto the cards between them.

The girl instinctively reached out to catch her but stopped halfway, watching as Fang Jingyi slowly righted herself, chin lifted proudly as though nothing had happened.

"My nephew," she slurred, hiccuping, "is the best cultivator to ever hic crawl out of this blood-soaked, backstabbing, motherless realm."

She raised her cup again but paused.

Then, with a strangely solemn expression, she added softly, "And he’s the only reason I hic still bother playing cards instead of drinking alone."

The girl looked at Jingyi for a while, her expression a bit unreadable and then she asked gently, already reshuffling the deck,"Shall we go again, Elder Jingyi?"

Fang Jingyi blinked, then grinned wide.

"Damn right we shall. But this time hic I’m betting my gourd of Heavenshade wine."

The girl raised an eyebrow.

"...The one you already drank?

"Hush. That’s beside the hic point.

And Why are you hic so interested in what I hic bet," Fang Jingyi slurred with a crooked smirk, cheeks flushed crimson from too much spirit wine, "when you’re just gonna hic lose again?"

The girl across from her smiled sweetly, almost innocently... until she calmly reached down and lifted the sword beside her, laying it on the table with a soft clink.

"This round," she said, "I’ll bet this."

Fang Jingyi leaned closer, eyes bleary, then squinted at the chipped blade.

"Ohhh..." she giggled, pointing with her cup, "a broken item for a broken item. Very classy~!"

The game began anew.

But moments later, the drunken celebration came to a tragic halt.

"Nooooo! My gourd of Heavenshade Wine!" Fang Jingyi cried, slumping over the table in despair.

Her companion, ever composed, tucked the gourd away with a victorious twirl of her fingers.

"Elder Jingyi," she said smoothly, voice silk and honey, "shall we go again?"

But this time, there was a grin on her face. It was no longer sweet. No more modest.

No. This one was the grin of a predator who had smelled blood in the water.

Fang Jingyi lifted her head, narrowed her eyes, and stared at her with all the hatred of a seasoned gambler being outplayed.

"...You witch."