Clan Building System: I'm not the Protagonist?! - Chapter 345

Chapter 345: 9
Fang Yuan, Lin Zhaoyue, Xiao Pei, and Du Juan gathered inside one of the quieter rooms of the estate.

Sunlight streamed through the wooden lattice windows, warming the floor.

At the center sat Doctor Mu, smiling as always, with a young child beside him.

The boy was quiet, observant, posture straight—too composed for his age.

Lin Zhaoyue fidgeted where she sat, hands clasped in her lap.

Her eyes kept darting toward the child, brimming with curiosity, but she forced herself to remain polite and composed beside Fang Yuan.

Xiao Pei, meanwhile, leaned forward, squinting comically at the boy’s face.

Eyes? Nose? Chin?

He was very seriously attempting to determine which facial feature connected the boy to Fang Yuan.

Du Juan pretended not to notice his stupidity, gently tending to a clay pot over a small flame, the soft sound of tea bubbling adding warmth to the room.

Fang Yuan placed a hand over his heart and bowed slightly.

“Doctor Mu, it’s good to see you again.”

Doctor Mu’s smile crinkled at the corners of his eyes.

“Indeed, Clan Head Fang. I didn’t think I’d make it to this mountain—if not for the cultivator who helped us.”

Xiao Pei immediately perked up.

“A cultivator—?”

Thunk.

A sugar cube bounced off the back of his head.

He turned.

Du Juan was already stirring the tea again as if nothing happened.

Xiao Pei sat quietly.

Fang Yuan continued, maintaining a friendly tone.

“I’m truly glad you’re in good shape, Doctor Mu. Mount Skyhowl… isn’t exactly welcoming to mortals.”

Doctor Mu laughed heartily, shaking his head.

“Indeed! If not for that cultivator, my grandson and I would have died before taking ten steps into the mountain.”

Fang Yuan leaned forward politely.

“Oh? Then I must give my sincere thanks. May I know the cultivator’s name? Or at least what they looked like?”

Doctor Mu stroked his beard, thinking.

“Well… he didn’t give a proper name. Only said something about being a pill king, or some title like that. I forget which nation—”

The boy beside him finally spoke.

His voice was calm, steady, mature in a way that made Xiao Pei raise his brows.

“Grandpa is old and doesn’t remember clearly,” the boy corrected without hesitation.

“The cultivator was a woman. She said her name wasn’t important, but if we ever needed to find her, we should look for her title.”

The boy lifted his gaze.

“The Pill King.”

Doctor Mu blinked once.

“Oh—yes! Yes, that’s right!” He laughed, rubbing the boy’s head proudly. “Pill King just confused me. You say king, I assume man… ha!”

Lin Zhaoyue’s curiosity spiked again; she glanced at Fang Yuan.

Doctor Mu chuckled, continued.

“She was quite a unique one. Very kind. Strong, too. Said she was just passing through.”

A faint silence fell in the room.

Fang Yuan’s expression grew thoughtful.

A female cultivator strong enough to escort a mortal up Mount Skyhowl…

and calling herself the Pill King?

“Pill King?” Fang Yuan finally spoke, brow lifting.

“I was always under the impression the Pill King was a man. Pill King Tushan… that’s her name.”

Doctor Mu snapped his fingers.

“Aha! Yes, yes—Tushan! That’s the one.”

His eyes widened with a mixture of awe and relief.

“Judging by how effortlessly she handled those beasts on the way up, she must hold quite a high position, indeed.”

Fang Yuan nodded thoughtfully.

Before the atmosphere could grow too heavy, Du Juan approached with the teapot.

She set the tray down with graceful precision—tea cups arranged neatly before the two men and the child.

Then she bowed slightly.

“Patriarch Fang, Doctor Mu… I’ll be stepping out for a bit. I need to take Lady Zhaoyue with me.”

Lin Zhaoyue, who had been quietly observing, blinked up in confusion.

“Me? Where—”

Du Juan gave her a mysterious smile.

“Come. You’ll understand soon enough.”

Lin Zhaoyue hesitated for only a moment before nodding and standing.

She followed Du Juan out without further question.

On the way out, Du Juan gave Xiao Pei a single look.

Just one.

Xiao Pei stiffened as if struck by lightning.

“I—I also have some urgent work! Very urgent! Forgive me, Shaoge!”

And he bolted out of the room like a frightened rabbit.

The door slid shut.

Silence returned.

Doctor Mu watched Xiao Pei’s disappearance and adjusted his spectacles.

“…Clan Head Fang, who was that young man just now?”

Fang Yuan lifted his cup and sipped calmly.

“That? Oh—Xiao Pei.”

He put his cup down with a soft tap.

“The fat one.”

Doctor Mu’s jaw dropped.

His eyes widened dramatically as he leaned forward, whispering in astonishment:

“You mean—that boy… used to be… the legendary fatty Xiao Pei?!”

Fang Yuan nodded.

Doctor Mu exhaled shakily, genuinely moved.

“What a magnificent thing being a cultivator must be…! To reshape a figure that massive into something so smooth and masculine…!”

He placed a hand over his chest, almost misty-eyed.

“What a miracle.”

Then his expression sharpened as he turned back to Fang Yuan.

His voice grew serious.

Steady.

“Patriarch Fang… I hope you haven’t forgotten your promise.”

Fang Yuan met the old doctor’s gaze.

“To take my grandson in as your disciple,” Doctor Mu reminded quietly.

Fang Yuan looked at the child.

The boy returned his stare—calm, unflinching, not intimidated in the least.

A good seedling, Fang Yuan thought.

“I don’t mind,” Fang Yuan said at last.

“But I must leave in a month’s time. I don’t know when I’ll return.”

Doctor Mu’s brows lifted, then furrowed—and he slowly nodded.

“…Is this a test, then?”

Fang Yuan didn’t answer.

Doctor Mu closed his eyes for a moment.

“I trust you,” he murmured. “You’ve never lied to this old man before.”

Then he placed a hand gently on his grandson’s shoulder.

“You heard him,” Doctor Mu said softly but firmly.

“One month. Learn as much as you can.”

The boy bowed his head.

“Yes, Grandpa.”

Fang Yuan allowed himself a small smile, watching the exchange.

He lifted his cup and took another slow sip of tea.

The other two cups—Lin Zhaoyue’s and Xiao Pei’s—remained untouched and slowly cooling.