Chapter 211: 211- Fang Clan Meeting [1]

The atmosphere in the Fang clan’s main hall was thick enough to chew on.

Elder Fang Chen stood at the head of the heavy oak table, a scroll of fine imperial parchment trembling slightly in his grip.

His voice, usually a steady rumble, was tight with a mixture of fury and profound exasperation as he read the royal declaration of war aloud.

"...and the primary grievances levied by the Jade Throne against this clan are as follows!" he announced, his eyes scanning the list. With each point, his jaw grew tighter.

"First!" he boomed, "The late Patriarch Fang Yuan, upon his ascension to the Nascent Soul realm, failed to present himself at the imperial court to pay homage to the Seat Under Heaven!"

A wave of disgruntled mutters went around the table. It was a flimsy, ceremonial pretext, but a legally sound one.

Elder Fang Chen’s eyes flickered up from the scroll, sharp and accusatory.

They landed like a physical weight on a young man sitting further down the table.

"Second!" he read, his voice dropping into a deeper, more dangerous register.

"Fang Tian, younger brother of the aforementioned Fang Yuan, is guilty of the high crime of kidnapping the Third Princess, Qin Yuyan!"

His gaze did not waver from the young man. Fang Tian, for his part, did not cower.

He shared the same stubborn jawline and intense eyes as his late brother, Fang Yuan, though his were currently shining with a mixture of impish defiance and zero remorse.

He offered the elder a small, helpless shrug, as if to say, Who, me?

Seated next to him, a girl with calm, intelligent eyes, Fang Mei, his adopted daughter merely sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose.

And on his other side, the alleged victim of this terrible kidnapping, the Third Princess Qin Yuyan herself, looked nothing like a captive.

Dressed in elegant but simple Fang clan robes, she was meticulously pouring tea for Fang Tian, her movements serene, a faint, amused smile touching her lips.

She appeared, if anything, perfectly at home.

Elder Fang Chen’s eye twitched.

He forced his eyes back to the scroll.

"Third!" he nearly shouted, his finger stabbing at the parchment. "Fang Tian... launched an assault on the Crown Prince at his mansion and burned the royal residence to the ground!"

Again, his furious eyes snapped to Fang Tian.

This time, the young man had the decency to look slightly abashed, though the proud gleam in his eye suggested the memory was more thrilling than regrettable.

Fang Mei elbowed him sharply in the ribs.

"Fourth!" The elder’s voice was reaching a fever pitch. "The Fang family is knowingly harboring the fugitive Fang Tian and has refused to hand him over!"

This time, every elder at the table joined Fang Chen in glaring at the source of all their problems.

Fang Tian suddenly found a loose thread on his sleeve utterly fascinating.

"And fifth!" Fang Chen finished, practically spitting the words, "The Third Princess, Qin Yuyan, has been identified within our barriers yet the Fang Family refused to admit we have her."

His final, exasperated look swept over the trio: the unrepentant criminal, his exasperated daughter, and the blissfully serene "hostage" who was currently placing a freshly peeled apple on Fang Tian’s plate.

A stunned silence blanketed the hall, broken only by a soft, utterly delighted chuckle.

All eyes turned to Lin Zhaoyue.

She was leaned back in her chair, one hand idly stroking the hair of a deeply embarrassed Fang Lian, who was trapped on her lap.

The matriarch’s smile was wide and full of dark amusement.

"Oh, my husband’s brother," she murmured, her voice rich with pride and laughter. "He doesn’t do things by halves, does he? He certainly knows how to make life interesting."

She gave Fang Lian a comforting pat, completely ignoring the fact that the clan was now officially at war with the most powerful family on the continent.

In her eyes, it seemed a small price to pay for such a fantastic story.

Elder Fang Chen’s patience, worn thin by the royal edict and Fang Tian’s infuriatingly calm demeanor, finally snapped.

He slammed the scroll onto the table, the sound echoing through the tense hall.

"Matriarch Lin!" he implored, his voice strained with urgency. "This is important! We are discussing a declaration of war from the imperial family! We must formulate a response, a strategy! This is not the time for... for..."

His words faltered as he gestured vaguely at her, unable to articulate the sheer incongruity of her cuddling Fang Lian in the middle of a war council.

Lin Zhaoyue’s amused smile didn’t fade. She held up a single, elegant finger. "Wait, wait. Elder Chen, you misspoke a very important thing just now."

The entire table fell silent. Fang Chen blinked, his righteous anger derailed.

"I... I misspoke? Which part of the emperor’s extensive list of grievances did I misread?" He picked up the scroll again, scanning it confusedly.

"Not the emperor’s list," Lin Zhaoyue said, her tone light but her eyes holding a strange, unshakable certainty. "Yours. When you were reading it out."

Fang Chen was utterly lost. "Mine? Matriarch, please, enlighten me. What could I have possibly said that is more pressing than the fact that the royal army is likely already mobilizing?"

She leaned forward slightly, the motion making Fang Lian stiffen in her lap.

"You said," Lin Zhaoyue began, her voice dropping to a more serious, yet still playful, note, "’the late Patriarch Fang Yuan’."

She shook her head slowly, a knowing glint in her eyes. "He’s not late. He’s still alive."

A dead silence blanketed the room.

It was so complete that the crackle of the torches in their sconces sounded like thunder.

Then, a wave of reaction swept through the elders. It wasn’t joy or hope. It was a collective, weary sigh.

Shoulders slumped. Heads shook.

They exchanged glances that spoke volumes—looks of pity, of resignation. There she goes again, the looks said. Our brilliant, powerful, but utterly delusional Matriarch.