Clan Building System: I'm not the Protagonist?!

The small procession had just turned down a quieter corridor leading toward the Clan Head's private chambers when they nearly collided with a woman buried under a teetering pile of wooden family tokens.

Clack. Clack-clack. The sound of wood knocking together was the only warning.

Fang Yuan stopped short, his brow furrowing. The pile was so high the person carrying it was completely obscured.

A practical, efficiency-minded thought cut through his emotional fatigue: Why doesn't she have a spatial ring for this?

Before he could speak, Lin Zhaoyue did, her voice taking on the cool, commanding tone of the Matriarch.

"Elder Jingyi. I want you to prepare a banquet. The grandest we can muster, and as fast as humanly possible."

From behind the stack of tokens, a polite, slightly muffled voice responded without hesitation.

"Okay, Matriarch."

Lin Zhaoyue's next words were slower, clearer, each one dropped like a stone.

She was trying to get the woman to look up, to see. "It's to celebrate… my husband's return."

There was a beat of silence.

The words hung there, my husband, a declaration meant to be both a triumphant announcement and a gentle piece of news for his family.

"Your husband…?"

The pile of tokens shifted.

Then, with a shocking clatter, the entire load crashed to the floor.

Fang Jingyi stood frozen, her gaze locking not on Lin Zhaoyue, but right through her to Fang Yuan.

A violent, searing spike of jealousy lanced through Lin Zhaoyue as Jingyi surged forward with a choked cry.

But she fought it down. This was his aunt.

She had, in her own way, been trying to tell her.

So, with a Herculean effort, Lin Zhaoyue did not stand her ground.

Instead, she took a deliberate half-step back, physically creating space for the reunion she had just instigated.

Her hand shot out, finding Fang Lian's, and her grip became an anchor, a way to physically hold her raging possessiveness at bay.

She watched them embrace, her beautiful face a placid mask over a tempest.

She leaned down to Fang Lian, her whisper a tight, strained confession forced through a smile.

"If they were all men," she breathed, the words taut with a barely restrained emotion, "I wouldn't have to feel this… I wouldn't be so…"

Abruptly, Fang Lian turned her head. The painful squeeze on her hand and the strain in her mother's voice told her everything.

Her gaze was clear, steady as she stated, each word precise,

"Why are you so insecure?"

Lin Zhaoyue's breath hitched. For an instant, the smooth mask she wore slipped; shock flickered in her eyes before she forced herself upright.

She brushed back a perfect strand of hair, an old, unconscious tell Fang Lian had long since noticed.

The word lingered. Insecure.

She brushed back a perfect strand of hair—an old, unconscious habit Fang Lian had long since learned to notice.

The word hung between them. Insecure.

Then, with a soft laugh, she reached out and gave Fang Lian's shoulder a playful slap. Her smile was warm, almost teasing, as she chided, "That's no way to speak to your mother. Even if I'm wrong, you should still be consoling me." The words were gentle, lightly wrapped in affection.

Fang Lian opened her mouth but found no reply. In the end, she stayed silent.

It was Fang Yuan who broke the standoff. The moment of tenderness with his aunt had passed; the Clan Head returned in full.

He gently eased free of Fang Jingyi's embrace, giving her shoulder a final squeeze.

"Aunt. The banquet. Please," he said quietly.

Jingyi, tears glimmering in her eyes, nodded. She cast one last glance at the Fang Tian, Lin Zhaoyue and Fang Lian, then turned briskly, already snapping orders at a nearby servant.

Fang Yuan's gaze swept his brother, his wife, his disciple.

The mask of warmth was gone; only the Clan Head remained.

"Tian. With me. Now." His voice cut sharp, allowing no protest. He turned to the others. "Zhaoyue. Lian. You as well."

Without waiting for replies, he strode away, not toward his chambers, but to the secluded western pavilion.

Fang Tian followed at once, every step heavy, like a man walking to trial.

Fang Lian lingered a breath, watching her supposed mother's retreating figure, before trailing behind. Her thoughts churned.

"Come, let's go. I haven't even told my husband that you're my daughter yet."

Fang Lian nearly stumbled. Since when do people adopt just by declaring, 'You're mine'? No, no—I don't agree! And how can my master suddenly become my father?!

But none of it left her lips.

Lin Zhaoyue, humming with delight, trotted off toward Fang Yuan without a care in the world.

Fang Lian lingered for a breath, watching the back of her so-called mother vanish ahead. At last, she exhaled and trailed after then.

The halls grew quieter as they followed Fang Yuan, the lavish corridors yielding to the stark paths of the western wing.

Before a reinforced door, two of Fang Tian's trusted guards stood rigid. They bowed at once as Fang Yuan approached.

"Leave us," he ordered. They withdrew without question.

Turning back to the three, his gaze was hard, implacable.

"The truth. All of it. Now," he said, each word edged with danger. "Then we decide what is to be done with the Third Princess of Qin."

Fang Tian drew in a long breath, steadying himself, and began.

"About Princess Qin Yuyan… she was being held prisoner by the Crown Prince. In his own basement. Because of something."

Fang Tian lowered his head. "I was… forcibly ejected from the palace along with the sword he was cultivating."

Fang Yuan's gaze sharpened. "What were you doing there in the first place?"

"Running an errand," Fang Tian admitted. "For Pill King Tushan."

Fang Yuan exhaled softly, a sound between disbelief and resignation.

"...I see." He gestured with his hand. "Go on."

"At first, I didn't even know the Third Princess was a captive," Fang Tian said quickly, his voice carrying both shame and lingering outrage.

"They're siblings, how could I have expected something like that? I thought blood meant loyalty."

His eyes lifted, meeting Fang Yuan's. For him, this was not only about Qin Yuyan, it was about his brother.

Fang Yuan had always been more than just family; he had been protector, mentor and perhaps even a second father.

That was why betrayal between siblings was unthinkable for him.