Chapter 176: 176- Fang Clan Meeting [2]

Fang Yuan stepped forward while the elders were starting to surge towards him too.

Some were already reaching as if to embrace, others eager to shower him with questions.

But before anyone could touch him, a sharp crack rang out, the sound of a gavel striking wood.

The hall froze. Every elder stiffened, then, as though spellbound, slowly retreated to their seats.

Lin Zhaoyue rose. With measured steps, she crossed the hall, posture impeccable.

She stopped directly before Fang Yuan, dipped in a graceful bow, one hand lifting the hem of her skirt with perfect etiquette.

"Welcome back, husband. The clan has struggled in your absence, but I have absolute faith you will raise us to glory once more."

The words were sweet, the tone gentle, too gentle for his ears.

Fang Yuan felt no confort in that gentle tone. Instead his chest tightened.

This woman... this woman is insane. In his memories, Lin Zhaoyue was a storm in human form, wild and unpredictable, her tongue was sharp as blades. But this? Soft, demure, compliant?

He almost staggered. What trick is this? What sorcery is this? Is this my heart demon? His mind spun, suspicion clawing at the edges.

No matter how he tried, he couldn’t understand how her personality was unlike what he had ever seen.

Fang Yuan kept his composure, his tone steady as he replied,

"Thank you. You’ve cared for the clan in my absence, and I’ll do my best to match that trust."

He dare say it because, only moments ago, she had demonstrated it, with a mere gesture, she had swayed the entire court.

Such control could only belong to the one truly holding the reins while he was gone. She had to be the one carrying the clan in his presence and she deserved the gratitude even if she was a madwoman.

But Lin Zhaoyue simply shook her head. When she spoke, her voice carried neither arrogance nor false modesty, but the calm weight of someone accustomed to command.

"Husband, the credit is not mine to claim alone. Our clan elders are exceptional. When I told them to march south, they marched south and they also did not forget to guard the east and west besides. They carried out every task without hesitation and does even more. It was my honor to guide them, but the strength of the Fang Clan stands firm today because of them."

Her words, polite yet resolute, pressed against him like an unseen current. Fang Yuan felt that same chill coil around his spine once more.

These mannerisms of hers, this grace laced with gentleness, were not something he could simply grow accustomed to.

Lin Zhaoyue’s serene voice broke the tension.

"Husband, we shouldn’t just remain standing here."

She stepped forward with unhurried poise, her robe brushing against the polished pavilion floor, and without hesitation, slipped her arm through Fang Yuan’s.

Her touch was warm, her presence close enough to unsettle even his Hollow Spirit–tempered mind.

"Husband," she continued, her tone as smooth as flowing jade, "there is much I long to speak with you about. But now that you’ve returned... would you care to preside over the clan meeting with me, and discuss solutions together?"

For a man who had stared into the Void itself, Fang Yuan should not have been surprised by anything. And yet, he was. Completely caught off guard, his mind stuttered.

This woman, this was not the Lin Zhaoyue he knew. Not the volatile, sharp-tongued, unrestrained madwoman burned into his memories.

A heartbeat too late, he managed to recover his composure yet he did not pull away.

Instead, he inclined his head and answered evenly,

"If you say so, my dear wife. Let us take our seats and—"

His words froze in his throat.

Because Lin Zhaoyue did not walk forward with him.

Instead, she collapsed to the floor in a rustle of silk, crouching low, her delicate hands covering her flushed face.

Her shoulders trembled and then the muffled sound of laughter broke out, spilling past her palms.

"Ahhh!" her voice came, half-strangled, half-squeal, utterly unlike the poised matron of moments before.

Her whole body quivered like a girl overwhelmed by joy. "He called me ’dear wife’! He called me dear wife!"

The elders stared in petrified silence, unsure if they were witnessing a divine revelation or a descent into madness.

And Fang Yuan... Fang Yuan felt the icy bite of recognition. Yes. This... this is the Lin Zhaoyue I remember.

And then she suddenly pinched her thigh, halting her own display.

With practiced grace, she rose to her feet, her posture flawless, her smile polite yet unreadable.

"Forgive me, my dear husband," she said, her voice smooth as silk. "I’ve shown you and the elders a most unseemly side of myself. Come, let us take our seats. This clan meeting is far too important, and we are honored that you have graced us with your presence."

Without waiting for a reply, she glided forward and sat down as though nothing had happened.

Fang Yuan was left momentarily stunned.

What in Heaven’s name is this woman trying to pull? The thought pressed itself into his mind, unshakable and unnerving.

Fang Yuan exhaled softly, gathering the weight of his thoughts before finally striding to the patriarch’s seat.

The air seemed to shift as he settled into the high-backed chair, the carved wood whispering of generations past.

His presence alone steadied the hall, yet beneath his calm, a sliver of irritation lingered.

Lin Zhaoyue’s sudden changes in demeanor were beginning to gnaw at him.

Just as the silence threatened to stretch, Lin Zhaoyue rose from her seat, her movements precise, commanding, and utterly graceful.

She clasped her hands and allowed her gaze to sweep over the gathered elders before speaking, her voice calm yet carrying an iron undertone that brooked no interruption.

"Dear clan elders," she began, the words deliberate, measured, "now is the time to present your troubles and the clan’s troubles. Together, we will seek solutions for the good of the Fang Clan."

Her eyes flicked toward the right side of the table, then the left, and she continued, a faint, almost mischievous smile tugging at her lips:

"As usual, we will start from the right side of the table and move left. Should anyone find this arrangement objectionable..."

She let the pause stretch just long enough to make her point. "...you are welcome to challenge me to a duel."