Clan Building System: I'm not the Protagonist?! - Chapter 309

Chapter 309: 309- the Past [2]
Fang Yuan leaned back slightly, looking toward the sky again.

“I remember telling you to trust me once. I said, ‘I’ll jump down first. When I call for you, jump.'”

He turned his gaze back to her, voice softening.

“And you nodded. Obedient at least,” he teased.

“So I jumped, grabbed a hanging vine, and swung into a small cave I used as shelter. When I was about to call you to jump…”

He chuckled and shook his head. “You’d already jumped.”

Zhaoyue gasped softly, one hand over her mouth.

“You just leapt,” Fang Yuan said, amusement and awe blending in his tone.

“Didn’t wait for my signal.. I remember seeing you fall past me like a streak of light, and my mind went blank. I thought, ‘Is this kid crazy!?’ before I also instinctively just jumped after you.”

He paused, his smile softening into something quieter, gentler. “That was the first time I realized how reckless you were… and the day I labelled you as crazy.”

Fang Yuan’s lips curved faintly as he watched her expression shift.

“Crazy?” Lin Zhaoyue echoed, her voice soft, uncertain.

Fang Yuan nodded, then stopped mid-motion, his gaze steady on her.

“Let me ask you something, Zhaoyue,” he said gently. “What would you think if a man you’d never met suddenly appeared before you and declared you were going to be his wife—and that your opinion didn’t matter?”

“Wh—what?” Her eyes widened in disbelief, a faint blush coloring her cheeks.

She blinked rapidly, trying to picture it.

Fang Yuan’s laughter was low, warm.

“Exactly my point,” he said, his tone softening.

“Maybe ‘crazy’ isn’t the right word. You were… someone who never gave up once you set your heart on something.”

Lin Zhaoyue blinked again, her expression gradually melting into something like admiration. Her voice came out as a quiet whisper, almost to herself.

“She… she’s so cool.”

Fang Yuan chuckled, a trace of affection glinting in his eyes.

“She’s you,” he said simply, his tone almost like a sigh. “And you are her.”

The air between them settled into a tender calm. The rustle of leaves and the faint trickle of the fountain filled the silence.

Then his gaze softened even more, and he leaned forward slightly.

“So,” he murmured, “tell me what’s really troubling you, Zhaoyue. I’m all ears.”

For a long moment, she didn’t answer. Her gaze fell to her hands, slender fingers twisting together in her lap.

The light breeze played with her hair, carrying the faint scent of herbs and water.

Fang Yuan waited quietly, his expression patient, gentle, even.

Finally, her lips parted. Her voice was small but clear, trembling like a fragile thread.

“Will I…” she began, hesitating, searching for courage. “Will I still remember me… when I recall all my memories?”

Lin Zhaoyue’s question lingered, fragile yet heavy, like a petal falling onto still water.

Will I still remember me… when I recall all my memories?

Fang Yuan finally drew in a slow breath. His gaze lifted toward the open sky above, the same sky that had watched over them as children, as strangers, as something more than both.

When he spoke, his voice was low and steady, every word deliberate.

“Memory…” he began, “is a strange thing. It shapes us, yes but it also changes us. Sometimes, when people remember, they think they’re finding their old selves again.”

He looked back at her then, meeting her eyes. “But the truth is, they’re not. They’re becoming something new, someone who carries both who they were and who they’ve become.”

Lin Zhaoyue’s lips parted slightly. Her eyes shimmered, reflecting the faint light of the water beside them.

Fang Yuan smiled faintly. “You ask if you’ll remember you… but the one sitting here now, smiling at butterflies, laughing at simple things, looking at the world like it’s new again, that’s also you.”

He leaned back, resting on his hands, his tone turning softer, gentler.

“Even if your memories return, this version of you… this innocence, this wonder, it won’t disappear. It’ll live within you, like light beneath water. You’ll still be you, Zhaoyue. Just… more complete.”

Her gaze trembled, her lashes fluttering as though she were fighting the weight of his words.

She wanted to reply, but her throat felt tight. The uncertainty in her chest loosened just a little, replaced by a fragile warmth she couldn’t name.

“…You make it sound simple,” she whispered, her tone shaky but tender.

Fang Yuan’s smile deepened.

“It’s not simple,” he said quietly. “But it’s beautiful.”

Fang Yuan’s gaze lingered on her, calm yet unreadable. The air between them was soft, heavy with meaning.

Then, he inhaled deeply, his shoulders rising and falling as though gathering the courage to speak a truth long buried.

“Zhaoyue,” he said quietly, eyes steady on hers, “I’m not from this world.”

The words fell like a ripple across still water.

Lin Zhaoyue blinked, confusion flickering in her eyes.

“Not… from this world?” she echoed softly, unsure what he meant.

Fang Yuan nodded once. His tone carried no grand revelation, only quiet honesty.

“When I was born… I already knew what right and wrong were. What life meant. What death meant. Things no child should ever understand.”

He looked down, fingers brushing idly against the grass. “It’s strange, isn’t it? Growing up already knowing too much. Sometimes… you feel like you aren’t really you. Like you’re living someone else’s life.”

Lin Zhaoyue’s lips parted, but she didn’t speak. Her eyes searched his face, seeing for the first time the depth of solitude beneath his composed calm.

Fang Yuan’s voice softened. “There were days when I thought I didn’t belong. Not in my family, not in the world around me. I’d run off into the forests just to be alone, away from the noise, away from people who felt… distant. I used to watch the stars and wonder which one was truly mine.”

He smiled faintly then, not of joy, but of quiet reflection.

“It’s scary,” he continued. “That feeling of being misplaced. Of being… wrong somehow. Like no matter how much you try, you’ll never truly fit in.”

The evening breeze stirred, brushing through their hair, carrying the scent of spirit herbs.

Fang Yuan lifted his gaze, his expression gentle but sure. “But you know… it’s okay to be scared,” he said softly. “It’s okay to cry. To doubt. To fall apart a little.”

Lin Zhaoyue listened in silence, her eyes glimmering faintly beneath the soft light.

He leaned forward slightly, the sincerity in his voice unshakable. “Because no matter how lost you feel, you’re still you. Even if you change, even if you forget, that doesn’t make you any less real. And even if you make mistakes…” his gaze softened, “I’ll be here. To lead you back to the right path.”

He paused there, a quiet exhale escaping him.

Just like how my parents once did for me, he thought, though the words never left his lips.

Lin Zhaoyue’s eyes softened, her confusion mingling with empathy. She didn’t fully understand his meaning, but she felt it, the truth, the loneliness, the warmth behind every word.

She leaned a little closer, her voice barely above a whisper. “You don’t sound like someone who doesn’t belong.”

Fang Yuan turned his head slightly, a small smile curving at the corner of his lips.

“That’s because…” he said, meeting her gaze once more, “I finally found a place that feels like home.”