Prepare.

A few hours had passed since the morning's surprise.

Fang Yuan now sat inside his personal study, the festive sounds outside dulled to a faint background hum.

Despite the laughter, music, and bustling servants beyond the courtyard, a storm churned silently behind his composed expression.

Aunt Jingyi sat across from him, legs elegantly crossed, balancing a steaming cup of spirit tea in one hand while leafing through a stack of scrolls with the other.

"—and that, little Yuan, is why you don't sign a petition just because you want your task to lessen even by a little," she finished, tapping one of the documents with a sharp fingernail.

"you should be more careful, little yuan. You're our family head, you can't be careless and take this things lightly."

Fang Yuan didn't smile.

He hadn't smiled in over an hour.

Because something she had said earlier kept echoing in his mind:

"Well, you approved the feast! We couldn't have done it otherwise, dear."

At first, he thought she was teasing again. But she was not.

She was genuinely surprised when he told her he had not approved of anything related to the Spirit Pond celebration.

Jingyi had brushed it off casually saying he probably signed the wrong scroll in a rush, called him lazy and joked about how much he didn't want to work.

But Fang Yuan knew better.

He never signed anything without reading it.

Never.

Every scroll was reviewed thoroughly, every seal checked, every hidden formation tested for tampering.

Which meant only one thing.

Someone had forged his approval.

And it was to be an insider.

And they had done it subtly enough to get past every level of internal vetting.

His eyes lingered on the scrolls in front of him. He said nothing to Aunt Jingyi.

There was no need to cause trouble, not just yet.

He nodded with just the right hint of sheepishness; the look of a nephew caught being lazy. Let her believe that. For now.

"Mn. I'll be more careful next time," he said evenly.

Jingyi stood, brushing off her robe, clearly satisfied with the results of her impromptu tutoring session.

"Good. Because if I catch you being lazy and irresponsible once more, I'll personally see that you get married and retired."

She winked and made for the door. "Now then, I need to prepare. The guests arriving for the pond unveiling will be of extremely high esteem. Nobles, sect envoys, maybe even a royal investigator or two. It's going to be dazzling, Little Yuan~"

Fang Yuan nodded faintly. "Of course. I'll see you there."

The moment the door closed behind her, his expression hardened.

The feast was to be held in seven days.

And preparations for the feast had already begun lavish and extravagant.

Fang Yuan sat at his desk, surrounded by mountains of scrolls and inked documents, each one more tedious than the last.

The scent of spirit ink mixed with faint sandalwood from the incense burning nearby, but neither could lift the weariness pressing down on his shoulders.

With a tired sigh, he turned his gaze toward the golden panel flickering in the corner of his vision.

[QUEST: Complete the pile of pending administrative tasks on your desk.]

Reward: Spirit Gathering Formation (High-Grade Black Rank)

Status: Ongoing

"…Still ongoing," Fang Yuan muttered with some relief, rubbing his forehead. "Phew. So the one that got approved didn't come from this pile."

That meant whoever had signed off on the celebration request hadn't tampered with the current stack on his desk.

But even so…

He leaned back, eyes narrowing thoughtfully.

The Spirit Pond was discovered yesterday.

By all rights, the standard petition protocol required a day—at least—of deliberation, formatting, and elder review before it ever reached his seal.

And yet, somehow, the celebration had been approved, prepped, and launched all overnight.

"One night was all it took…" he murmured.

A short pause.

Then, quietly, a name surfaced in his heart; unspoken, but burning all the same.

Someone charismatic. Respected. Trusted by the elders. Someone with both the authority and subtlety to fast-track the whole of Fang family event without raising alarms.

His lips tightened.

"I see what you're doing," he said to no one in particular. "But if this is how you act… I can't really hand the family over to you."

It was not a declaration of war.

Just a quiet conflict of hearts and intentions. Two visions for the future colliding under the same ancestral roof.

He exhaled slowly and set the scroll aside.

Then—knock knock.

"Come in."

The door creaked open, and a familiar scent of jasmine preceded the maid as she entered, carrying a tray of morning tea and fresh breakfast.

She bowed deeply. "Family Head. Your morning tea. Soft rice, lotus cakes, and glazed sweetroot. Would you like the kitchen to prepare something else?"

Fang Yuan blinked at the tray, then gave a weary smile. "No need. This is fine. Thank you."

As the maid bowed again and quietly placed the tray on the table, Fang Yuan sat back, looking out the window at the garden beyond his hands grabbing a lotus cake.

Fang Yuan took a slow bite of the lotus cake, the soft sweetness melting on his tongue.

For a moment, he allowed the taste to distract him from the weight of thoughts circling in his mind.

Then his eyes drifted toward the open window, where the morning breeze stirred the plum blossoms in the courtyard garden.

He set his teacup down with a soft clink.

"Felicia," he said, his tone casual but his gaze sharp. "Did anyone enter my chamber last night?"

The maid, who stood silently nearby, straightened. "None, Family Head."

Fang Yuan studied her a second longer, then gave a slight nod of approval.

"I see. Good work." He picked up another lotus cake, still warm and fragrant. "This is tasty," he murmured.

Felicia offered a soft, respectful smile. "The kitchens received fresh lotus root from the eastern terrace garden this morning. I'll be sure to inform the chef."

Fang Yuan took another bite, then said thoughtfully, "I'm sure the surprise being planned in seven days… will be just as sweet."

Felicia gave no visible reaction, only bowed her head lightly. "Of course, Family Head."