Chapter 16: I Implemented Reforms and All I Got Was This Hostile Elder Meeting

It started with a politely worded letter.

“To the Esteemed Patriarch Shen Liang,

With humble respect, the Elder Council and the esteemed heads of our branch families would like to request a private audience to… discuss recent developments.

Respectfully,

Elder Zhang (writing this under spiritual duress)”

Translation?

“You’ve terrified everyone and they want answers. Also, you owe someone a goat.”

The hall was packed.

Twelve elders. Five branch heads. Aunt Mei. Two disciples carrying snacks.

And me.

In the middle.

Smiling like a very tired CEO attending a board meeting full of angry shareholders.

Elder Mo stood first, solemn and grandfatherly.

“Patriarch… we are concerned.”

“Excellent. That means you’re awake.”

Elder Mo twitched.

“Running laps while chanting past failures?”

“Builds accountability.”

“Blindfold duels against rabbits?!”

“Teaches humility.”

“Making the finance division wear color-coded sashes?”

“Organizational clarity.”

He opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again.

“…Why are the colors based on shame levels?”

“Because fear is a powerful motivator.”

Elder Ping stood up next.

He looked like a disappointed father who just found his child organizing knives by emotional trauma.

“Patriarch, in your absence, we followed tradition.”

“Tradition gave us nine hundred spirit cabbages, a collapsing training schedule, and three sect-wide injuries involving spoons.”

“We believe in stability!”

“The same kind of stability that got us kicked off the list of notable mountain clans?”

He looked away.

I sipped tea like a smug therapist.

Then came the branch heads.

Shen Bo, cousin from the Second Branch, raised his hand.

“Patriarch, the disciples are… afraid.”

“As they should be.”

“They’ve begun referring to morning drills as ‘The Hour of Screaming Regret.’”

“I’m deeply honored.”

Shen Mei, ever diplomatic, tried a softer approach.

“Patriarch, no one doubts your intention. But such radical changes—without consulting the council—feel…”

“Necessary?”

“…Alarming.”

“Let me be clear,” I said, standing. “When I awoke, I found a clan drifting. Weak. Disorganized. Mocked by merchants, forgotten by sects, and held together by nostalgia for a man who’s currently missing in action.”

They all tensed.

“I don’t know where Shen Wuji is. But I know this—if he walked in today and saw this mess, he’d either destroy us… or die again out of embarrassment.”

You could hear a spiritual pin drop.

“So no,” I said. “I will not stop the reforms.”

“We will train. We will rebuild. And we will do it without crying about how things ‘used to be better when we could nap at noon.’”

“Anyone who can’t handle that is welcome to leave.”

Slowly… very slowly… Aunt Mei clapped.

Once.

Twice.

Then the disciples in the back followed.

Clap. Clap. Clapclapclap—

Then Shen Dou accidentally clapped himself in the face. Again.

By the end of the meeting:

• Elder Zhang had stress-aged one year.
  
  
• Elder Ping requested an herbal sedative.
  
  
• Shen Bo tried to bribe a disciple to “misplace” the training schedule.
  
  
• Shen Mei requested a private meeting. (Still undecided if supportive or planning assassination.)
  
  
• One elder fainted upon discovering “bath day” was now mandatory.
  
  

After everyone left, I remained alone in the hall.

I stared at the empty tea cup.

“This isn’t a clan,” I murmured. “It’s a failed group project with robes.”

“But I’ll fix it. Even if I have to drag these people kicking and spiritually screaming into competence.”

From somewhere behind the curtain, a disciple whispered:

“Patriarch scares me but also inspires me.”

“Same,” whispered another.

“Same,” said Aunt Mei, sipping more tea.

[End of Chapter 16]