Chapter 27 The Matchmaking Pavilion Becomes the Festival’s Center

Tang Hui realized the situation had spiraled beyond control when disciples started using her pavilion as a meeting landmark.

“I’ll wait near the Matchmaking Pavilion.”

“Meet me beside Senior Sister Tang’s stall.”

“If you reach the lantern bridge, you’ve gone too far.”

Tang Hui sat behind her consultation table listening to these conversations with growing disbelief.

Three weeks ago, this had been a crooked wooden stall beside Old Chen’s artifact stand.

Now it was apparently an official sect location.

The Lantern Reflection Festival pulsed around the outer market in waves of light and noise. Lanterns drifted overhead like glowing constellations while disciples crowded the streets in bright festival robes, carrying flower branches, music instruments, and enough emotional tension to destabilize spiritual formations.

Tang Hui had never seen Qingyun Sect this alive before.

Normally, cultivators walked quickly through the sect with expressions suggesting they were either pursuing enlightenment or contemplating murder.

Tonight people lingered.

They laughed openly.

Some even forgot to act dignified.

Frankly horrifying behavior from immortal seekers.

And somehow, the center of all this chaos had become her pavilion.

“Senior Sister Tang!”

Tang Hui looked up automatically as another disciple rushed toward the stall looking frantic.

Ah.

Emergency consultation.

The disciple lowered his voice urgently. “What does it mean if someone keeps fixing your robes every time they see you?”

Tang Hui barely paused.

“They like you.”

“…That quickly?”

“You asked one of the easiest questions tonight.”

The disciple looked spiritually shaken by her confidence.

Tang Hui accepted payment while resisting the urge to laugh.

Honestly, some cultivators required less matchmaking and more basic survival instruction.

Nearby, Old Chen had stopped pretending annoyance entirely and now openly profited from the pavilion crowds by selling tea and festival charms to spectators.

Traitorous businessman.

“You created a monster,” he remarked while counting spirit coins.

Tang Hui glanced around the packed plaza.

He was not wrong.

The expanded festival setup had transformed the matchmaking pavilion into something closer to a social gathering point than a simple consultation stall.

Disciples came for advice.

Then stayed to talk.

Friends gathered nearby waiting for consultations.

Some couples lingered awkwardly after successful confessions because they clearly had no idea what to do next.

At one point Tang Hui even caught two disciples arguing over whose relationship she technically helped first.

Deeply concerning behavior.

Still—

watching the atmosphere unfold around her brought an unfamiliar warmth to Tang Hui’s chest.

Not because of fame.

Definitely not because of fame.

But because the pavilion had changed the sect in small ways already.

People spoke more openly now.

Less hiding.

Less pretending indifference.

Even the failed confessions tonight had remained peaceful.

No duels yet.

A remarkable achievement.

Tang Hui considered requesting formal recognition for her contributions to public safety.

Before she could continue admiring her success, movement near the central lantern bridge drew attention from across the market.

A ripple passed through the nearby disciples.

Not fear.

Excitement.

Tang Hui followed their gaze toward the bridge entrance—

then immediately understood.

Qin Yue had arrived.

And unlike her usual severe inner sect robes, tonight she wore deep crimson festival attire threaded with faint silver patterns that reflected softly beneath the lantern light.

The effect was… striking.

Sharp elegance softened by the warm glow surrounding the bridge.

Tang Hui noticed three separate disciples nearly walk into pillars while staring.

Reasonable reaction.

Qin Yue ignored the surrounding attention completely while crossing the plaza toward the pavilion.

Several disciples straightened instinctively as she passed.

Tang Hui watched the scene carefully.

Interesting.

No.

Stop that.

She mentally corrected herself immediately.

New habit required discipline.

Qin Yue stopped beside the consultation tables and glanced calmly across the crowded festival plaza.

“You appear busier than most merchants.”

Tang Hui gestured toward the surrounding emotional disasters.

“Cultivators fear communication. I’m providing a necessary service.”

“A frighteningly profitable one.”

“Most important services are.”

Qin Yue’s eyes flicked briefly toward the enormous queue forming near the pavilion entrance.

Then, unexpectedly:

“The festival atmosphere improved.”

Tang Hui blinked.

Was that another compliment?

This sect truly intended to destabilize her spiritually tonight.

“You think so?” she asked.

“Yes.”

Qin Yue’s gaze drifted toward a nearby group of disciples laughing together beneath hanging lanterns.

“Previous festivals carried more tension,” she said calmly. “Tonight feels… lighter.”

Tang Hui followed her line of sight quietly.

She understood what Qin Yue meant.

In past years, the festival probably revolved around status:
who attended with whom,
which peak gained attention,
which disciples attracted admiration.

Competition disguised as celebration.

This year felt different.

Not entirely.

Cultivators remained competitive by nature.

But the atmosphere had softened around the edges.

More genuine.

Tang Hui leaned back slightly in her chair.

Maybe because people no longer felt forced to hide every emotion behind pride.

The realization lingered briefly before nearby commotion interrupted again.

A familiar voice shouted from across the plaza:

“Senior Sister Tang!”

Xu Yelan hurried toward the pavilion looking both embarrassed and amused.

Shen Ruijin followed close behind carrying several floating spirit lanterns carefully in his arms.

Tang Hui immediately narrowed her eyes.

“…Why are there so many lanterns?”

Xu Yelan covered her face briefly. “Senior Brother Shen misunderstood something.”

Excellent.

Festival chaos resumed.

Tang Hui folded her arms while Shen Ruijin approached with complete seriousness.

“You stated women appreciate thoughtful romantic gestures,” he said.

“I did.”

“So I acquired additional lanterns.”

Tang Hui stared at the massive bundle in his arms.

“…How many?”

“Thirty-two.”

The surrounding disciples nearly collapsed laughing.

Xu Yelan looked mortified. “He bought every lantern from one entire stall.”

Shen Ruijin frowned slightly. “The designs matched.”

Tang Hui physically looked away to regain composure.

Because unfortunately—

that was somehow both ridiculous and sincere at the same time.

Xu Yelan tugged lightly at Shen Ruijin’s sleeve.

“You don’t need thirty-two lanterns,” she whispered weakly.

“I was uncertain how many constituted appropriate romantic effort.”

The nearby disciples started coughing violently to hide laughter.

Even Qin Yue’s expression shifted faintly.

Tang Hui finally looked back toward the doomed sword cultivator.

Then slowly smiled.

Actually…

this was perfect.

Not because Shen Ruijin succeeded gracefully.

He absolutely did not.

But because he was trying now.

Honestly trying.

And Xu Yelan clearly saw that too.

Tang Hui rested her chin against one hand while watching the two of them argue quietly over excessive lantern purchases beneath the warm festival lights.

Around them, the Lantern Reflection Festival continued glowing brighter across the mountain peaks.

And somewhere amid all the noise and chaos, Tang Hui suddenly realized something else.

For the first time since arriving at Qingyun Sect—

she genuinely felt like she belonged here.