The next morning, the Fang Estate bustled like a hive.
Servants hurried with tools, disciples marched between courtyards, and the faint clang of weapons echoed in the distance.
Inside his office, Fang Yuan sat at his broad desk, sleeves rolled back, stamping paperworks one after another.
After he was done, he stretched a little and picked up his brush and then he unfurled the next scroll and wrote neatly:
Task: Feed the koi fish in the Phoenix Soul Pavilion.
Risk: None.
rit Points: 10.
He paused for a mont as the brush hovered for a mont.
A sigh slipped through his nose before he reached for a fresh scroll.
His hand moved again, this ti with a hint of irritation in the strokes:
"Note to self: Please establish a system for permanent tasks.
Especially for stuffs like repetitive duties such as tending to the koi, cleaning up the gardens, maintaining lanterns and also the patrols, they should be written once and set as standing quests.
This will prevent needless rewriting and reduce wasted ti. Tell little i’er about this when she return back with Uncle Chen."
When he was done, Fang Yuan tapped the end of the brush against the desk, then glued the note there just in case he forgets about it. Which apparently he did, a lot.
He then opened the next scroll but instead of a blank one, it was a formal petition.
Fang Yuan smoothed it out and read:
"Petition to construct a weaponry within the clan.
Requested investnt: 60,000 gold ingots.
Our clan’s weapons have long been outsourced. Due to recent strained relations, we believe it is ti we forge our own.
—Fang Chen and Fang Joshua."
Fang Yuan leaned back slightly, the parchnt rustling in his hand.
His gaze sharpened with quiet consideration. Weaponry, hmm... His lips curved into a faint, approving smile. That is fine.
He brought down the seal with a solid thunk—APPROVED.
But as the red mark dried, his mind drifted elsewhere, a na surfaced in his head. Xiao Pei.
The system’s latest task echoed in his mind: [Get a girlfriend for your brother Xiao Pei.]
[Reward: Access to the weaponry]
His lips pressed into a thin line. Would that truly be a win-win? Helping a brother find happiness... or would I just be a selfish bastard, pushing him toward soone only because I need the weapons?
He exhaled deeply, then raised his voice. "Felicia."
The office door opened a mont later, and a young woman stepped inside.
Felicia, neat in her light-blue robes, bowed deeply, her tone crisp. "Yes, Clan Head?"
"Bring Xiao Pei to ."
"Right away, Clan Head." She dipped once more before slipping out, closing the door softly behind her.
Fang Yuan rose from his seat, the quiet scrape of his chair legs against the floor the only sound in the room. He moved unhurriedly toward the small cupboard tucked against the wall.
Resting atop it sat a modest brazier, a plain kettle, and a few bundles of dried herbs bound neatly with twine.
He lifted the kettle with steady hands, pouring clear water into its belly.
Then, one by one, he gathered the herbs he had on hand, spiritual bitterness root, crushed carefully between his fingers until its sharp, acrid fragrance bled into the air; strips of molten elderleaf bark, thin as paper, curling the instant they touched the rising mist.
When all was prepared, Fang Yuan exhaled softly and let a strand of his qi unfurl. It seeped into the brazier and ignited the fla up.
Slowly, the water began to shiver, steam whispering upward in delicate coils.
The air filled with a strange, biting aroma, half bitter, half sweet.
Fang Yuan stood over the kettle, watching the steam rise, his expression unreadable.
Fang Yuan watched the water in the kettle roll and break, the steam curling like pale spirits against the rafters.
Slowly, the last bubble snapped, leaving only the hiss of heat. He lifted the kettle with steady hands, poured the dark brew into a single cup, and carried it back to his desk.
He set the cup down. For a long mont, he only stared at it, the bitter fragrance rising like a dare.
A wry smile tugged at his lips. "Fang Yuan... think of this as coffee. Just cultivation-world coffee."
His voice was a low mutter, as though saying it aloud might soften the taste.
He took a sip. The liquid bit back, sharp and punishing, and he pressed his teeth into his lip with a faint wince.
No matter how many tis he brewed it, the bitterness always seed alive, gnawing at his tongue and chest both.
Only one man I know can drink this stuff without flinching... my good brother, Fang Tian.
He exhaled, almost a laugh, then set the cup aside and reached for the next scroll.
The wax seal broke easily. Inside was a neat request: permission for the Lin Family to retain their surna despite being beneath the Fang banner.
Fang Yuan leaned back, tapping the parchnt with one finger, weighing it.
A family’s na was not just a word, it was pride, lineage, the thread binding generations to their ancestors.
To strip it away was to demand they sever their spine and stand hollow.
Fang Yuan’s gaze lingered on the scroll, thoughts weaving in silence.
From what he had discerned, unless one bore the Fang surna, he could not truly gauge a person’s loyalty or even the faith they pledged through the system.
He exhaled, a faint murmur escaping under his breath.
"If only it were loyalty I could asure... not faith. I won’t have to worry about betrayals, not at all."
Just then, a golden shimr spilled across his vision.
The system screen unfurled word by word, radiant and cold.
[Host, as long as an individual or a group has wholly submitted under you, they are already part of your clan.
No great man reaches the top without capable allies.
New Task: Raise an ally or a pet.
Goal: Increase the number of Golden Core cultivators in the Lin Family to twenty.
Current count: twelve.]
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