CHAPTER 138: 138- GOOD NEWS [2]

The crisp mountain air felt lighter after the cave’s earthy stillness as Fang Yuan and Felicia walked the winding path back towards the clan’s central compound.

Felicia, ever the quiet shadow at his side, surprised him.

Her voice—calm, low, and edged with thoughtful curiosity—broke the gentle rhythm of their footsteps.

"Clan Head," she said, eyes forward, tone even, "regarding the wells you create... will they endure? Or will their power fade over time?"

Fang Yuan glanced at her, a flicker of approval passing through his gaze. It was a sharp question—measured, observant. Just like her.

He answered without missing a step, his tone as casual as if he’d long since calculated every detail.

"They’ll hold for about a month if left untouched, natural dissipation will eventually set in. But if a cultivator actually uses the cave, draws from the well directly... a week. Maybe a little more, depending on their core strength and absorption rate."

He spoke with the calm confidence of someone who had tested it himself, tone level, gaze distant.

Fang Yuan had gotten the details from the system, of course, but he had no intention of revealing that.

As far as anyone else was concerned, this knowledge was his own: the product of experience, intuition, and deep cultivation insight.

Felicia nodded, absorbing this. After a few more steps, she asked, "And the points... Juniors can be impulsive. What prevents a stronger disciple from simply... taking another’s earned points? Or bullying them out of their share?"

A thoughtful hum escaped Fang Yuan. "Ah. A valid concern. I hadn’t fully articulated it, but the answer lies in the design."

He paused, choosing his words carefully to avoid hinting at the ’system’ as an external entity.

"Points will be of two kinds. ’Locked’ points, allocated regularly by the clan itself, perhaps based on standing or basic needs. These cannot be traded, only used by the recipient for essential resources: cave access, basic cultivation materials.

Then there are ’Earned’ points, gained through specific tasks, achievements, or trades. Those can be exchanged, gifted, or... unfortunately, potentially coerced.

But the locked points ensure no one is completely deprived of the clan’s foundational support, even if they are lazy or... bullied."

He gave her a wry look. "It creates a safety net beneath the meritocracy."

Felicia’s third question was the sharpest, her gaze steady. "And if an Elder tasked with distributing points... were corrupted? Favored some, neglected others?"

Fang Yuan stopped walking.

He looked out over the clan lands bathed in afternoon light, then back at Felicia, his expression grave but resolute.

"That," he said, his voice low and carrying absolute conviction, "is a vulnerability in any system. I can only tell you this, Felicia: I have absolute trust in the integrity of the Elders who stand with me now. Vigilance is always needed, but for now, the foundation is sound."

Felicia absorbed his answers.

A small, genuine smile touched her lips, a rare expression that softened her usually watchful demeanor.

It wasn’t just acceptance; it looked like quiet approval.

Fang Yuan tilted his head, genuinely curious. "You rarely ask questions, Felicia. What prompted this... interrogation?" A curious note entered his voice.

Her smile lingered as she met his gaze, steady and sincere.

"I’ve served you for at least seven years now, Clan Head. I’ve seen you burdened, resolute, sharp... even furious." She paused, her eyes narrowing slightly—not in suspicion, but in thought. "But today?"

A small shake of her head, and the smile softened, warming like sunlight slipping through clouds.

"Today, I saw something different. A cheerfulness I hadn’t quite seen before. You looked... engaged. Genuinely content in the challenge of building something, not just managing crisis after crisis."

She glanced away briefly, as if weighing whether she should’ve said so much, then looked back, her voice quieter.

"I suppose I just wanted to see how deep that satisfaction ran. So I thought... I might as well ask."

"You’re still a little child, Felicia," Fang Yuan said gently, a teasing note in his voice, though his gaze softened. "Next time you have a question... don’t hesitate to ask."

Her words had struck something in him—unexpected and quietly profound. For a moment, he’d felt a flicker of surprise... then a warmth, deep and familiar, like the echo of a truth he hadn’t fully acknowledged until now.

The weight of leadership was always there—ever-present, heavy, inescapable.

But this, shaping the clan’s future with his own hands, breathing life into ideas, turning vision into structure...

It was more than duty. It was satisfying. It was his.

And somehow, without knowing it, Felicia had put it into words.

Just then, a cry shattered the calm like glass.

"CLAN HEAD! CLAN HEAD!"

The desperate, ragged voice tore through the quiet afternoon, raw and urgent, sending birds scattering from the treetops.

A Fang disciple staggered into view down the winding path, his form barely upright. His robes were torn and streaked with dirt, one sleeve hanging by a thread.

Blood stained the fabric at his side, and he clutched his ribs with one trembling hand, every step a visible struggle.

His face was ashen, twisted in pain and sheer panic.

He took two more staggering steps and then his foot caught on a gnarled root.

He fell.

The impact was hard and unforgiving, a dull thud against the earth. But even that didn’t stop him.

With a hoarse gasp, he began dragging himself forward on his elbows, dust clinging to his skin, breath ragged, eyes locked, desperate on Fang Yuan.

Felicia was instantly poised, a hand drifting towards her dagger, her watchfulness snapping back into razor focus.

Fang Yuan moved faster than thought. One moment he was on the path; the next, he was kneeling beside the fallen junior, a blur of motion that left the air humming.

Gently but firmly, he helped the boy sit up, supporting his shoulders. "Easy. Breathe. What happened?"

His voice was calm, but an undercurrent of steel ran beneath it.

The junior gasped, blood trickling from a split lip, his chest heaving as he struggled to speak. His eyes, wide, wild with terror locked onto Fang Yuan.

"Clan Head... it’s... it’s Elder Ruì... and Fang Lian..."

He choked on the words, sucking in a ragged, agonized breath.

His voice came out low and strained, thick with pain and burning with barely contained fury.

"The Lin family... they’ve taken them. Kidnapped them both."