CHAPTER 125: 125-HERO FANG TIAN.

The shout shattered the stillness like a thrown stone through glass.

"Shao ge! Shao ge! Wake up! Urgent!"

Fang Yuan jolted upright in his bed, the deep, clinging tendrils of sleep ripped away violently.

His heart hammered against his ribs, a frantic drumbeat in the sudden silence that followed the shout.

Blinking heavily, the world swam, the familiar shapes of his chamber blurred and doubled.

Weariness clung to him like a second skin, a heavy, sodden cloak. Every muscle protested, screaming for the oblivion he’d barely tasted. .

He ran a hand roughly over his face, fingers scraping against the stubble on his jaw, trying to banish the fog.

Groaning, he swung his legs over the side of the bed, the cool stone floor a shock against his bare feet.

He fumbled for a simple outer robe, pulling it on with sluggish movements.

The urgency in the shout suggested he couldn’t ignore it, exhaustion be damned.

He shuffled towards the chamber door, each step feeling like wading through thick mud.

As he opened the door, the dimly lit corridor outside seemed to pulse. Standing there, practically vibrating with suppressed excitement, was Xiao Pei.

But it wasn’t just Xiao Pei. Beside him, two servants strained under the weight of an enormous, ornately carved wooden chest.

It looked ludicrously large and out of place in the quiet hallway at this hour.

"Fang Yuan!" Xiao Pei beamed, his eyes wide and bright, completely oblivious to Fang Yuan’s disheveled state and palpable fatigue.

He gestured grandly at the chest. "Look! Look what arrived! Just now!"

Fang Yuan squinted, his brain struggling to process the scene.

The chest dominated his bleary vision.

"Xiao Pei," he rasped, his voice thick with sleep.

"What... is that?" He gestured vaguely at the monstrous box.

"A gift!" Xiao Pei declared, puffing his chest out slightly as if he were personally responsible for its delivery. "A huge gift!"

"A gift?" Fang Yuan echoed, the word sounding foreign and nonsensical in the context of his exhaustion and the late hour.

He leaned against the doorframe for support, rubbing his temple. "Who... why... now?"

"From Tushar Village!" Xiao Pei explained, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet. The servants grunted, shifting the chest’s weight.

"The messengers just left! Apparently, your younger brother, Fang Tian pulled off something incredible! Somehow, he routed a bandit group that’s been plaguing the western ridge near the village! Wiped them out, single-handedly they say! The villagers are calling him a hero! And this," he slapped the side of the chest with a resounding thump, "this is for you! A show of respect! Can you believe it? Tushar Village!"

Fang Yuan blinked slowly.

Fang Tian? Bandits? Tushar Village?

The names floated through his sleep-fogged mind like drifting leaves, sluggish and half-formed.

Then it clicked, like a pebble dropping into still water.

Ah... right. I did send him to clear them out, he thought, rubbing his temple as the memory settled into place.

A faint, weary chuckle escaped him. He pushed himself off the doorframe and approached the chest.

His movements were slow, deliberate, like a man moving underwater.

He placed a hand on the cool, polished wood, his eyes still half-lidded, shadows deepening the hollows beneath them.

"Respect, huh?" he murmured. With a sigh that seemed to come from his bones, he closed his eyes for a brief moment.

When he opened them, a subtle, unseen pressure filled the air around the chest, his divine sense, a fine, invisible net cast over the contents within.

He leaned down, undid the simple latch, and heaved the heavy lid open.

Inside, nestled on rich, dark cloth, lay a single, large object.

Fang Yuan stared at it for a beat, then let out another soft, breathy chuckle, devoid of real humor.

He reached in and hauled it out.

It was a pig’s head. Perfectly preserved, eyes glassy, snout pointed upwards.

Greasy and stark in the dim corridor light.

"It’s a pig head," Fang Yuan stated flatly, holding it up by one ear, his voice utterly matter-of-fact.

The absurdity of the situation, the grand chest, the late hour, his crushing fatigue, this grinning porcine offering seemed lost on him, or perhaps buried too deep beneath the weariness.

"I know!" Xiao Pei replied, his enthusiasm undimmed by the grotesque reveal.

He pointed an emphatic finger at the head in Fang Yuan’s hand.

"That’s not the point! Look past the snout, Fang Yuan! Tushar Village! Sending you a gift! After years of barely paying their tithes on time and grumbling about every Fang who ever set foot there! They’re the most stubborn, suspicious lot under the family’s banner! This," he gestured wildly between Fang Yuan and the pig head, "this is a breakthrough! They’re finally opening up! Showing deference! Focus on that!"

Fang Yuan looked from the pig head to Xiao Pei’s earnest, excited face.

A slow, tired smile spread across his lips. He hefted the head slightly, its dead eyes seeming to stare blankly past Xiao Pei.

His voice, when he spoke, was low, calm, and perfectly deadpan.

"Thanks, Da Pang. Appreciate the optimism."

He paused, letting the nickname hang for a heartbeat.

Then, still holding Xiao Pei’s gaze, he gave the pig head a little shake. "But see this? This is your little brother’s head. Why aren’t you sad?"

He held the eye contact, his expression completely serious, only the faintest tremor at the corner of his mouth betraying him.

Xiao Pei’s smile faltered, confusion replacing excitement.

He blinked, looking from Fang Yuan to the pig head and back again, the gears turning slowly in his head.

"...My... brother...?" Xiao Pei repeated slowly, his brow furrowing deeply.

Fang Yuan couldn’t hold it.

The absurdity, the exhaustion, the utter ridiculousness of Xiao Pei’s earnest interpretation of the pig head as a diplomatic triumph, and the perfect setup of his own joke... it broke through.

A snort escaped him, then another, escalating rapidly into full, shoulder-shaking laughter.

He doubled over slightly, the pig head dangling forgotten in his grip, his weary eyes crinkling shut as genuine mirth, rare and bright, momentarily banished the fatigue.

Xiao Pei’s face went through a spectacular transformation, confusion to dawning horror to blazing indignation.

His jaw dropped, then snapped shut. His cheeks flushed a deep, furious red.

"FANG YUAN!" he roared, the sound echoing down the stone halls, loud enough to wake anyone who hadn’t already been disturbed.

He jabbed a furious finger at his laughing friend. "HOW DARE YOU CALL ME A PIG! I’M A HUMAN, DAMN IT! A HUMAN!"

The echoes of Xiao Pei’s furious roar still vibrated in the stone corridor when a new sound shattered the fragile aftermath, the frantic slap of running feet on stone.

Felicia, her usually neat braids coming loose, her face pale and eyes wide with urgency, skidded to a halt just behind Xiao Pei, gasping for breath.

Fang Yuan’s laughter died instantly, choked off as if a hand had closed around his throat.

He straightened, the lingering mirth vanishing from his eyes, replaced by sharp, immediate focus.

The pig head hung forgotten in his grip, its grotesque grin suddenly obscene in the new tension.

"Felicia?" Fang Yuan’s voice was clipped, authoritative, cutting through her panting. "Did I not expressly say today was your day off? What are you doing here? Disobeying orders now?"

Felicia waved a dismissive hand, her chest heaving.

"That... that doesn’t matter now, Clan Head! I just heard... I ran as soon as I..."

She sucked in another breath, her gaze darting between Fang Yuan and Xiao Pei, registering the strange tableau, the enraged Xiao Pei, the weary Fang Yuan, the absurd pig head but her terror overrode it all.

"A bad news! Terrible news!"

The shift in the air was palpable.

Fang Yuan’s weariness seemed to solidify into something cold and hard.

Xiao Pei’s indignant flush drained away, replaced by wary stillness.

The servants holding the now-empty chest shuffled nervously, sensing the sudden, profound gravity.

"Speak," Fang Yuan commanded, his voice low but carrying an undeniable weight.

All trace of sleepiness, all residue of humor, was gone. The Clan Head stood before them.

Felicia swallowed hard, her voice dropping to a horrified whisper that somehow carried further than a shout. "It’s... it’s about your brother Fang Tian, Clan Head."

Fang Yuan didn’t move, but his knuckles whitened where he gripped the pig’s ear.

Xiao Pei leaned forward slightly, his earlier outrage completely forgotten.

"What about Fang Tian?" Fang Yuan asked, each word precise and icy.

Felicia looked like she might be sick.

"He... he has... kidnapped the Third Princess."

The word hung in the air, monstrous and impossible. "They say... he’s taken her. And... and he’s currently on the run."

There was silence in the hall.

Heavy and tense but not for long.

Xiao Pei leaned in slightly, voice barely above a whisper.

"Brother Fang... I’ve read in stories that heroes usually have a princess by their side. Perhaps—"

He trailed off there, testing the waters.

Fang Yuan slowly turned his head, eyes narrowing as he stared at Xiao Pei.

For a long, thoughtful moment, he said nothing.

Then, a sigh stirred from deep in his chest.

Perhaps... this is karma, he thought bitterly, for making fun of brother Da Pang just now.