Clan Building System: I'm not the Protagonist?!-Chapter 40: A Love Triangle.

The fading sun cast long shadows across the garden stones as Fang Yuan made his way down the winding path that led beyond the inner walls.

The hush of evening had settled in, broken only by the chirping of crickets and the occasional soft flutter of a lantern ribbon caught in the breeze.

He had done all he could for the girl, for now.

What remained... was in the hands of someone far humbler, but no less vital.

Past the arched gate, nestled beside a grove of jade bamboo, stood a small tiled building, a modest structure surrounded by flowering herbs and drying medicinal roots strung neatly along a wooden rack.

The scent of crushed leaves and spirit bark lingered thick in the air.

Fang Yuan approached the front step and lifted a hand to knock but the door opened before his fingers touched the wood.

An old man with a snow-white beard and slightly hunched back stood in the doorway, eyes sharp beneath his bushy brows.

Despite his age, his gaze remained clear, his aura completely mundane, unadorned by qi, yet grounded by decades of experience.

"Patriarch Fang," the old doctor greeted with a respectful nod. "It’s been a while."

Fang Yuan inclined his head slightly. "Doctor Mu. I need your skills. It’s urgent."

Before the doctor could reply, a girl stepped out from behind him, young, no older than eighteen, in a simple white robe.

Her hair was tied back in a ribbon of soft green silk, her hands dusted with dried petals and ink-stains from grinding herbs. Her gaze met Fang Yuan’s, and she quickly bowed.

"Family Head Fang," she greeted politely, but her voice had a quiet flutter to it, like a lantern caught in uncertain wind.

Then, hesitantly, almost in passing—

"...Is Senior Brother Fang Tian well?"

Fang Yuan’s expression didn’t shift.

Stillness.

Then a slow, measured nod. "He’s doing fine."

The girl’s eyes lit for the briefest of moments, an involuntary flicker of joy and then dimmed again just as quickly, her gaze dropping to the floor.

"Oh," she said. "That’s good."

She busied her hands immediately, adjusting the herb pouch at her waist, brushing nonexistent dust from her sleeves, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

Movements too quick. Too precise.

Fang Yuan watched silently, his gaze softening a fraction.

He had known for a long time.

The way her eyes lingered just a moment too long whenever Fang Tian visited.

The way she offered him the freshest tea leaves from her own supply, pretending they were part of Doctor Mu’s standard store.

How she always seemed to find a reason to come into the room when Fang Tian laughed.

Now, she stood there with her shoulders held carefully still, back straight, posture perfect, like she had practiced how not to care.

But her fingers fidgeted behind her back.

And her lip trembled slightly when she thought no one saw.

Fang Yuan didn’t say anything.

He could have said he’s taken. He could have said don’t wait. But what purpose would it serve? She already knew that.

So instead, he simply offered a small nod of gratitude.

"Your master’s help is needed at the pavilion," he said gently.

Doctor Mu stepped forward, already packing up his tools with quiet efficiency. "A patient?"

"Yes. A young woman. She’s stable for now, but in poor condition."

"I see. Then we’ll go at once," Doctor Mu said, stroking his beard with mild intrigue. "I must admit, I’m curious to meet the woman who warranted a personal visit from the esteemed family head himself."

His gaze flicked to the girl beside him. "Lian’er, come along."

She nodded quickly, gathering a satchel of clean bandages and prepared tinctures, wrapping the leather ties around her wrist with practiced ease.

But when she looked at Fang Yuan again, there was a new stillness in her eyes, one of effortful calm.

The three walked side by side through the garden paths, moonlight beginning to spill softly over the walkways.

Lian’er said nothing during the walk. Her gaze never once drifted toward Fang Yuan again, nor did she ask more about Fang Tian.

But she walked a little faster.

As if trying to get through the moment before her thoughts caught up.

Fang Yuan glanced toward the night sky, the stars above just beginning to blink into view.

The path back to the Phoenix Soul Pavilion wound gently beneath the plum trees, their white blossoms glowing faintly under the moonlight.

The three of them, Fang Yuan, Doctor Mu, and Fang Lian walked in calm silence.

The only sound was the soft crunch of gravel beneath their feet and the faint chime of Lian’er’s medicine pouch swinging at her side.

Fang Yuan walked with his usual calm, hands folded behind his back, his gaze level but distant.

Lian’er kept her head slightly lowered, walking half a pace behind the doctor.

Her face was composed, the corners of her lips gently curved in that polite expression she always wore in public but her hands were wound tightly around the strap of her satchel.

A faint murmur of laughter drifted down the path ahead, light, warm, and familiar.

Lian’er’s steps faltered. Then, around the bend...

Two silhouettes turned a bend in the path and came into view, illuminated by the lantern light.

Fang Tian and Fang Mei walked side by side, their hands loosely intertwined, fingers brushing now and then as they spoke in low voices.

The mood between them was light, and Fang Tian was mid-laugh as if whatever weight had burdened him had finally lifted just a little.

Lian’er’s steps faltered only slightly.

Just a breath.

Fang Mei noticed them first.

Her eyes flicked up, gaze sharpening ever so subtly when she saw who approached.

Her fingers remained laced with Fang Tian’s, but her posture straightened, and the hand that held his tightened just a little more.

Fang Tian looked up a moment later.

His face broke into an easy grin.

"Lian’er!"

He stepped forward slightly, releasing Mei’s hand out of instinct and raising his own in a friendly wave. ƒreewebηoveℓ.com

"It’s been years! Look at you—you’ve grown a head taller!" he laughed warmly. "Still helping old Mu keep us cultivators alive, huh?"

Lian’er returned the smile effortlessly, bowing with a calm that belied the little shake in her breath. "Senior Brother Tian. You look well."

Fang Tian didn’t notice the pause.

"Of course I do! Life’s good. And hey—Fang Mei, you remember Lian’er, right?"

Fang Mei stepped beside him again, her smile smooth, almost serene. "Of course. We met once, years ago. The other adopted girl... though I don’t think we ever got to speak properly."

Lian’er nodded. "That’s right. It’s nice to see you again, Sister Fang Mei."

"Likewise," Mei said, though her gaze lingered on her for a heartbeat longer than necessary.

Fang Tian clapped his hands together. "Ah, I remember how Uncle Chen used to say you two were like plum blossoms grown apart—both picked by the same hand."

"Picked, yes," Fang Mei said quietly, her fingers subtly reclaiming Fang Tian’s hand again. "But not meant for the same vase."

He blinked, confused for a moment as he blinked,"Huh?"

He scratched his head. "Poetic as ever, Mei’er."

Lian’er’s eyes flickered to their hands then back to his face. Her expression didn’t change.

That same calm, well-mannered smile remained in place.

But her fingers gripped the satchel tighter.

Fang Yuan stood off to the side, silent. Watching.

He didn’t say a word. Not when Tian greeted her with casual warmth.

Not when Lian’er smiled with heartbreak in her eyes. Not when Mei said nothing but made her meaning clear.

Doctor Mu finally stepped in, clearing his throat as he tapped his cane lightly against the ground.

"Ahem. As much as I enjoy blooming sentiment and old reunions, we’ve a patient waiting, Patriarch Fang."

Fang Yuan nodded, his voice level. "Of course. This way."

Doctor Mu bowed politely to Fang Tian and Fang Mei, then resumed walking, his cane tapping rhythmically against the stones.

Lian’er gave a parting bow. "Senior Brother. Sister Fang Mei."

And then she followed.

Her steps were steady. Measured. Quiet.

She didn’t look back.

Fang Yuan lingered a moment longer. Just enough to see Fang Tian turn to Mei with a puzzled look as if trying to figure out what he’d missed.

Mei only leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder with deliberate tenderness.

Fang Yuan’s eyes flicked away.

Then he turned to walk after the others.

Love, it seemed, demanded no fewer sacrifices than war.

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