Clan Building System: I'm not the Protagonist?!-Chapter 89: Du Juan

The girl’s response was a simple, breezy laugh.

Her hands moved with startling precision, deft fingers shuffling the deck with the smooth grace of someone who had done this a thousand times, in darker corners, for far higher stakes.

Swish tap flip.

Fang Jingyi squinted, watching the flurry of motion with a dizzy kind of awe.

"Ugh... your hands are too fast. Hic I’m gettin’ seasick just lookin’ at ’em."

She slumped back slightly, then blinked and pointed clumsily.

"Alright... hic what was your name again?"

"Du Juan," the girl said lightly, not pausing as she dealt the cards with sharp, practiced flicks, each landing perfectly in place.

Fang Jingyi gave a big, enthusiastic nod. "Du Juan, huh? Nice name! Very bird-like. Sounds fast."

She clutched her cards dramatically to her chest. "Let’s see if you can fly after I crush you!"

With a theatrical flourish, she scooped up her hand.

Her eyes darted over the cards... then her lips curled into a victorious smirk.

She peeked at Du Juan over the top of the hand and then she began to giggle.

A tiny snort escaped. "Hehe... hehe... ahem—"

And then she broke down again, giggling like a child who just found the cookie jar unguarded.

Du Juan raised an eyebrow, bemused, and casually lifted her own cards. 𝑓𝘳𝘦𝑒𝑤𝑒𝘣𝘯ℴ𝘷𝘦𝓁.𝑐𝑜𝑚

A slow, sly smile spread across her face.

"Oh no," she said, voice flat with mock surprise, "looks like I lost."

She tossed her cards onto the table with deliberate nonchalance.

Fang Jingyi flung her own cards down like she was casting a grand spell and leapt to her feet.

"Hahaha! I knew it! You winning was a hic a fluke!"

She beamed, arms raised in glorious triumph. "Wine goddess strikes again!"

Du Juan stood up, stifling a chuckle. "Alright, Elder Jingyi. Let’s get you to bed."

"Hic hic nooo! I wanna play more!"

Fang Jingyi pouted fiercely, kicking her legs like a petulant child, but her steps were already growing unsteady.

Despite having no proper cultivation base left, Du Juan had no trouble guiding her to bed.

Moments later, Fang Jingyi was out cold, snoring softly, a hand still loosely holding an imaginary card.

Du Juan stood at her side for a moment, watching her sleep with something soft in her eyes.

Then she quietly stepped out.

The moon had begun its slow descent, trailing silver light across the roof tiles of the southern pavilion.

She returned to the card table, now quiet and cool in the night air. Pulling a stool close, she sat, tilting her head up to watch the stars shift behind the clouds.

And there, beneath the moon’s fading light, she began to sing.

A low, wistful hum at first... then words, slow and gentle..

"Heavens above, the earth below,

You made every mortals to kneel and bow.

Yet for thousand prayers, a single dream—

The heavens fall silent when mortals scream."

"The jade gates shine for those above,

While those below are robbed of love.

The ones who dared, the ones who tried,

Were cast away... and still they cried."

"O Heaven, you wear a silver crown,

But hold a blade to strike us down.

Your rules are writ in sacred stone,

But not a word is carved for our own."

"My path was broken, my soul betrayed,

But I still sing, though stars may fade,

Oh, Immortals are immoral, yes they are

Their virtues are gone, throw out and far."

Her voice lingered in the dark like a forgotten lullaby, soft enough to go unnoticed,

and sorrowful enough that even the moon paused to listen.

As the last notes of her song drifted into the night, soft and bitter like wine left too long uncorked, Du Juan heard it, the faint rustle of grass behind her.

Her eyes narrowed. She turned slowly.

There, standing at the edge of the pavilion garden, was a young man.

The moonlight slanted across his face like a blessing, illuminating high cheekbones, a composed brow, and eyes that shimmered with both sharpness and calm.

His robes, though simple, carried the understated weight of someone used to being listened to.

Du Juan straightened, her gaze wary.

"Who are you?" she asked, voice low and cautious.

But the man only smiled faintly, tilting his head ever so slightly, as if studying her from afar.

"That’s what I should be asking you," he said with effortless grace. "I’m Fang Tian—

Younger brother of the current clan head."

"I’m Du Juan," she replied with a soft voice, offering a polite bow, her sleeves fluttering like petals in the breeze.

Fang Tian gave a courteous nod, then lowered himself onto the stone bench nearby. His posture was relaxed, but his gaze was curious, thoughtful.

"You have a beautiful voice," he said, the compliment gentle but sincere.

Du Juan dipped her head with poised elegance.

"Thank you."

A pause lingered between them, filled only by the night wind brushing through the trees. Then Fang Tian spoke again, tilting his head.

"I don’t believe I’ve seen you around here before."

"That’s likely," Du Juan replied gracefully. "I’m... currently staying in the clan head’s chamber. I don’t go out often."

At that, something flickered in Fang Tian’s expression, a realization.

"Oh, so you’re Brother’s—" he caught himself, the sentence halting midair. He quickly corrected himself with a faint smile, folding his hands.

"Please... take good care of my brother."

Du Juan smiled softly.

"I’ll try to," she said, her tone warm, genuinely kind, without the need for flourish.

Fang Tian returned the smile with a graceful nod, then turned to leave.

But just as he stepped into the moonlight path beyond the courtyard, his eyes briefly caught a shadow lingering near the corner of the corridor.

Fang Mei.

She stood silently, her arms folded, half-hidden behind a pillar, eyes sharp with veiled jealousy.

The moment their gazes met, she turned away with a cold flick of her sleeve and vanished into the night.

Unaware or perhaps deliberately indifferent, Du Juan remained where she was, her gaze trailing the moonlight cast across the courtyard floor.

Now alone, she let out a quiet breath, eyes drifting back to the empty table. A small smile touched her lips.

"I wonder how he looks... the one they call Clan Head."

Her fingers brushed the edge of the stone table where the cards still lay.

Her voice softened, thoughtful, neither mocking nor reverent.