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

From what Fang Yuan understood after coming to this world, cultivators were never meant to heal like this. At least… not this fast, not this thoroughly.

In the novels Fang Yuan had devoured in his past life, healing of such scale was common.

He had assumed the same principle applied in this world except thirty years here and there was not even a hint of it visible.

He had then started to believe such ways of cultivation belonged only to the novels he once read, not in the reality he now lived in.

And yet… today it seemed those lines were not as clear as he had once believed.

Every fiber of her being screamed the unsolved mystery.

Xiao Bai had not only cultivated her qi but her very flesh, bone, and vessel itself.

He remembered those long hours of childhood days spent hoarding scrolls and manuals obtained from the other great families.

His method had been very simple, offering the hot-headed young masters a chance at revenge.

None of them ever dared refuse when Fang Yuan issued the challenge in front of their love interests.

For them, it was a matter of pride. For him… it was nothing more than a game.

Every wager ended the same: his victory, their humiliation, and another book added to his shelves.

But not one of those texts had ever spoken of a body that could regenerate like Xiao Bai's.

Not a single one.

Fang Yuan's grip on his sword tightened, a sliver of unease cutting through his calm mask.

And then, her blade was upon him.

Steel clashed with a piercing ring, and in the very first exchange his sword shattered like brittle glass.

Wonderful, Fang Yuan thought dryly, even as he blurred from sight, reappearing above her in a heartbeat.

After all, despite being the head of the Fang Clan, he was wielding nothing more than a third-grade sword, no, worse, a failed product.

Hardly worthy of this battle. With a flick of disdain, he discarded the broken blade.

Instead, he turned to his true advantage, his realm.

Surely, as one who has stepped into the Hollow Spirit Realm, I should be able to suppress her.

The air trembled as he unleashed his full might. Pressure flooded the field like an invisible tide, crashing down with irresistible force.

Below, Xiao Bai was driven to the ground, her slender frame slamming against the earth.

Fang Yuan frowned, caught between relief and puzzlement. Is that it?

She lay motionless on the ground, not a muscle stirring.

Yet Fang Yuan did not relent, his suppression bore down harder, unyielding, like a mountain pressing against her chest.

And then she moved.

Slowly, steadily, brushing dust from her pale robes as though nothing had happened.

Not a trace of strain marked her face.

Fang Yuan's eyes narrowed, shock flickering across his usually composed features.

She had stood unshaken beneath the weight of a Hollow Spirit Realm cultivator's suppression.

A fraction of a second.

That was all the time Fang Yuan's composure cracked, allowing a sliver of pure, unadulterated astonishment to show before the mask of icy detachment slid back into place.

His realm suppression was not merely a technique, it was a law of nature.

Those beneath the Hollow Spirit Realm were meant to break beneath it, their bodies failing, their spirits buckling.

It was not a matter of skill or willpower, but simple hierarchy.

A rabbit does not resist the weight of a mountain lion's paw.

Yet, this girl, Xiao Bai had not just resisted it. She had ignored it.

She had brushed dust from her robes as if his overwhelming spiritual pressure were nothing more than a mild breeze.

Impossible, the logical part of his mind, insisted. This has to be a delusion.

But his eyes, sharper than any blade, reported the undeniable truth.

There was no strain in her posture, no flicker of pain in her eyes. She stood within the epicenter of his power as if it were a void.

His mind raced through possibilities, each more outlandish than the last.

A heaven-grade defensive artifact? No. The energy was inert. There was no shimmer of an activated treasure, no spatial distortion around her. This was something… internal.

A hidden cultivation realm far exceeding his own? Preposterous.

Her Qi signature, while dense and vibrant, was firmly anchored in a realm beneath his.

The hierarchy was clear; the result was not.

The only answer, the one that defied every scroll he had ever ''borrowed'' and every "truth" this world had taught him, was the one he had just moments ago dismissed as fantasy.

Body Refinement.

Not the rudimentary toughness some martial artists cultivated, but the true, profound art of forging the physical vessel into a treasure unto itself.

A body so refined that it became its own domain, immutable and sovereign, rejecting external pressures.

Very soon, curiosity began to override his initial shock. The broken sword at his feet was forgotten.

The failed suppression was no longer a failure, but a data point.

Very well, he thought. If realm suppression is ineffective, then let's see how you fare against simultaneous attack.

His spiritual pressure did not waver, but within it, his intent shifted.

If he couldn't crush her with weight. He would test her with precision.

The air around him grew cold. Tiny, glittering shards of qi began to crystallize from the moisture in the air.

Each shard honed itself to a sharp edge, spinning silently.

They were not a product of any technique, it was just pure, condensed killing intent given form through his immense spiritual power.

With a sound like a sighing wind, a thousand qi needles shot toward Xiao Bai.

They targeted precise meridian points, joints, and the delicate capillaries of the eyes.

He watched, his expression a placid lake hiding a churning depths beneath.

He needed to see how her miracle would hold up.

The thousand qi needles did not so much as whisper as they crossed the distance between them.

Fang Yuan expected her to dodge, to summon a barrier, to deflect them with a burst of Qi.

After all, a cultivator's first instinct is always to meet energy with energy.

Instead Xiao Bai did none of these things.

She simply stood there.