CHAPTER 133: 133- CULTIVATION CAVE [1]

A week had crawled by since the last clan meeting.

Now, within the quiet stillness of his study, Fang Yuan let out a long, weary sigh.

Before him loomed a mountain of scrolls stacked like a fortress of ink and obligation.

His gaze swept across the paper walls rising on either side of his desk.

It felt less like administration and more like siege warfare.

Despite everything, one sliver of good news remained.

The Tharz Kingdom had yet to make any move against the Fang family.

No messengers from their side had arrived and not a single inquiry about Fang Tian and the kidnapped princess.

On the surface, it seemed like a blessing.

But in truth, it was a curse wrapped in silence.

Because when your enemy made no sound, you couldn’t measure their intent.

In times like these, open confrontation would have been almost comforting.

At least it would reveal their hand.

This silence, however, was a coiled serpent in the grass... unseen, unreadable, and infinitely more dangerous.

Still... it was extra time.

And time was something the Fang family desperately needed to prepare.

Fang Yuan wasn’t truly optimistic about the situation, but optimism was a mask he wore for the clan.

They needed confidence from their leader.

The faith system remained frustratingly opaque.

It showed him who believed, even letting him glimpse their stats, but not how much faith points each person provides.

This new ability, useful as it was, also rendered the family heirloom ring clutched in his hand almost redundant, useless.

Just in time, a soft knock echoed in the office.

"Come in," Fang Yuan called.

Felicia entered, her smile warm yet respectful. "Clan Head. Elder Joshua reports the cultivation caves are fully prepared."

Fang Yuan gave a slow, approving nod.

Pushing back his chair, Fang Yuan rose.

"Show me," he said, gesturing for Felicia to lead the way.

Sunlight filtered through the canopy, painting shifting patterns on the stone path as Fang Yuan walked beside Felicia towards the ravine.

He consciously relaxed his shoulders, letting a practiced, easy smile settle onto his face, a mask for the clan’s sake.

Passing the archives, the scent of old parchment and cedar drifted out.

Old Man Geng stood framed in the doorway, his usual stern expression softening almost imperceptibly as Fang Yuan approached.

The archivist didn’t speak, but offered a slow, deliberate nod, his knuckles whitening slightly where they gripped a worn ledger.

It was a gesture of profound respect, heavy with unspoken loyalty.

Fang Yuan returned the nod, warmth briefly touching his eyes before the mask settled back.

[Faith: 87]

Further along, the rhythmic slap of wet cloth on stone announced Mistress Lan’s domain.

Steam curled from large basins as laundresses worked.

Seeing Fang Yuan, Mistress Lan paused mid-wring of a heavy robe, her round face instantly brightening.

"Clan Head!" she beamed, wiping damp hands hastily on her apron.

"Fine day for progress, isn’t it?"

Her cheer was genuine, infectious.

Fang Yuan chuckled lightly.

"It is indeed, Mistress Lan. Keep the inner halls shining."

Her answering smile widened, crinkling the corners of her eyes.

[Faith: 92]

Near a riot of newly pruned spirit-peony bushes, Young Fei, barely taller than the shears he wielded, spotted them.

"Clan Head Fang Yuan!" the boy called out, abandoning his task to scramble onto the path.

He waved energetically, dirt smudged on one cheek. "Look! The Moonwhisper buds are opening!"

He pointed proudly.

Fang Yuan stopped, genuinely charmed. "So they are, Young Fei. Fine work."

He ruffled the boy’s hair lightly, drawing a delighted grin.

The pure, uncomplicated admiration in the boy’s eyes was a tangible thing.

[ Faith: 95]

★★★

The chiselled entrance to the new cultivation caves stood stark against the mountain face near the spirit pond.

Elder Joshua surveyed his handiwork, rows upon rows of meticulously carved caverns, clustered together like a honeycomb built by overzealous bees.

He scratched his beard, the familiar knot of confusion tightening in his gut.

Why build cultivation rooms without the formations? The thought was a constant, irritating buzz.

A cultivation cave without a spirit-gathering array was just... a hole in a rock. A fancy, labor-intensive hole.

And clustering them so densely? Near the ravine’s limited ambient energy? It felt less like strategic planning and more like inviting a spiritual famine.

Survival of the fittest? he scoffed internally. More like ’who can meditate hardest on disappointment.’ Utterly daft.

Still, orders were orders. He had finished builting them.

Just as Elder Joshua mulled over what the clan head might be planning, he spotted Fang Yuan approaching along the stone path, Felicia trailing a respectful step behind.

Straightening instinctively, Joshua smoothed his robes and stepped forward, offering a deep, formal bow.

"Clan Head. The caves have been completed, just as you instructed."

The words were proper, respectful. But the subtle emphasis on "as you instructed" carried a trace of restrained curiosity... perhaps even the faintest hint of skepticism, polished smooth by etiquette.

Fang Yuan returned the greeting with his usual calm demeanor.

"Elder Joshua. The work appears impressive. How went the construction?"

"Swiftly, Clan Head," Joshua replied, his voice dry as mountain dust.

"Very swiftly. When I said they would be paid by the chisel strike, not the hour, the masons were motivated."

He paused, a flicker of pragmatic disapproval crossing his weathered face. "Can’t say I see the wisdom in expending resources on... empty caverns... during times like these." He cleared his throat.

"But. They are built. The job is done. So. I won’t complain." He delivered the last sentence with the solemn gravity of a man stating a profound, self-evident truth.

Fang Yuan regarded the elder, his expression perfectly neutral. Inside, his thoughts were wry: Ah, Elder Joshua.

Your definition of ’not complaining’ remains uniquely... expansive. That entire speech sounds like complains to my ear but I’ll forget about it.

Outwardly, a genuine, almost mischievous smile replaced the neutrality.

"Elder Joshua," he said, his voice light, "your restraint is... commendable."

He let the compliment hang, knowing Joshua would hear the gentle tease.