Chapter 29 Luo Ming Begins Causing Problems on Purpose

Tang Hui realized Luo Ming had become dangerous the moment he started looking entertained near her pavilion.

Not normal entertained.

Targeted entertained.

The kind that suggested a man had discovered a new hobby and intended to make it everyone else’s problem.

Unfortunately, Tang Hui herself was the problem in question.

The Lantern Reflection Festival had only grown busier as the night deepened. Lanterns illuminated the mountain paths in endless streams of light while disciples crowded the outer plazas with enough excitement to overwhelm ordinary mortals.

The matchmaking pavilion remained completely surrounded.

At some point during the evening, disciples had started organizing themselves into consultation lines voluntarily.

Tang Hui found this deeply unsettling.

“You’re enabling structure,” Old Chen muttered while watching the orderly queues.

“I’m preventing riots.”

“Same thing.”

Fair.

Tang Hui continued reviewing consultation slips spread across her table.

[How do I know if someone respects me or is merely polite?]

[If two people both like each other but are both cowards, what happens?]

[Can romantic stress affect sword intent stability?]

Tang Hui stared at the last question for several seconds.

Honestly?

Probably yes.

Cultivators were emotionally fragile creatures.

Before she could answer the next disciple, a familiar shadow settled lazily across her table.

Ah.

Trouble arrived.

Luo Ming leaned one arm casually against the pavilion frame while smiling far too pleasantly.

“You appear overwhelmed.”

Tang Hui did not look up. “Go away.”

“Hm. Very cold.”

“You’ve been wandering around this festival stirring conversations for hours.”

“I prefer the phrase improving social atmosphere.”

Tang Hui snorted softly.

Nearby disciples immediately became alert again.

Because apparently every interaction involving Luo Ming now counted as entertainment.

The man himself remained infuriatingly relaxed beneath the lantern glow tonight. Dark robes, loose posture, smiling eyes—

Tang Hui suddenly understood why disciples found him dangerous.

Not because he intimidated people.

Because he made people lower their guard naturally.

Entirely different threat category.

Luo Ming glanced toward the consultation slips scattered across the table.

“You know,” he mused, “your reputation has become rather frightening.”

Tang Hui narrowed her eyes. “Explain.”

“I overheard three disciples earlier debating whether you can perceive hidden feelings directly.”

“…I hate this sect.”

“Another group believes you’re secretly cultivating a heart-reading technique.”

Tang Hui physically closed her eyes.

“No.”

“And one outer disciple claimed your matchmaking advice contains traces of heavenly fate calculation.”

Tang Hui pointed toward the nearest lantern post dramatically.

“I am one rumor away from becoming a forbidden sect artifact.”

Luo Ming laughed openly.

Several nearby disciples immediately looked emotionally affected by the sound.

Tang Hui remained suspicious.

Too socially effective.

Meanwhile, Lin Qingyue sat nearby helping organize consultation slips while Gu Beichen stood beside her carrying additional tea supplies with terrifying seriousness.

Tang Hui still had not recovered from that development.

A month ago, Gu Beichen frightened outer disciples into silence merely by existing.

Now he refilled tea cups.

Love truly altered people psychologically.

Or destroyed them.

Possibly both.

Tang Hui accepted another payment pouch from a departing disciple before finally looking back toward Luo Ming.

“So,” she said slowly, “what exactly do you want?”

“Conversation.”

“Liar.”

His smile widened slightly.

Correct answer.

Before Luo Ming could continue speaking, another wave of excited whispers spread through the nearby plaza.

Tang Hui glanced up automatically.

Several inner sect disciples approached from the eastern terraces carrying festival lanterns and elegant invitation cards.

Ah.

Social maneuvering.

One of the girls stopped near the pavilion before bowing respectfully toward Tang Hui.

“Senior Sister Tang,” she began carefully, “we wished to invite you to the upper moon-viewing platform later tonight.”

Tang Hui blinked.

“…Why?”

The disciples exchanged glances.

Then the girl answered honestly:

“Because everyone important seems to gather around you now.”

Tang Hui stared at her in disbelief.

Absolutely unacceptable sentence.

Luo Ming nearly choked on laughter beside her.

Tang Hui ignored him immediately.

“No,” she said firmly. “I refuse involvement with anything described as important.”

The disciples looked visibly confused.

“But Senior Sister—”

“I am an outer disciple operating a matchmaking stall beside roasted chestnut vendors.”

“A very famous matchmaking stall.”

“That changes nothing.”

The girls eventually retreated looking disappointed.

Tang Hui rubbed her forehead briefly before stopping herself halfway.

No exhaustion habits.

Better.

Luo Ming watched her with open amusement now.

“You truly dislike attention.”

“I liked my life better when nobody expected wisdom from me.”

“Too late.”

Correct.

Deeply unfortunate, but correct.

The festival breeze swept gently through the pavilion, stirring the hanging lantern ribbons overhead while laughter echoed across the glowing market terraces.

For a moment, Tang Hui simply observed the scene around her quietly.

Disciples talking comfortably.

Couples wandering the lantern bridges.

Groups gathering around music stages and tea stalls.

Even the matchmaking pavilion itself no longer felt ridiculous.

It felt… established.

Stable.

Alive.

The realization settled strangely in her chest again.

Not pride exactly.

But close enough that Tang Hui became suspicious immediately.

Dangerous emotion.

Before she could spiral further into self-awareness, Luo Ming suddenly spoke again.

“You’re observing Qin Yue.”

Tang Hui nearly dropped her tea.

“I absolutely was not.”

“You looked toward her four times during the last conversation.”

“That proves nothing.”

Luo Ming’s expression turned increasingly entertained.

Across the plaza, Qin Yue currently stood near the lantern bridge speaking with several formation disciples. As always, she carried herself with composed elegance sharp enough to discourage foolish behavior naturally.

And unfortunately—

Tang Hui had indeed noticed something earlier.

Namely:
Qin Yue tolerated Luo Ming far more than anyone else.

Which meant either:

* she trusted him,
* or she lacked the energy to remove him from conversations permanently.

Honestly difficult to determine.

Tang Hui folded her arms defensively.

“I merely observe people professionally.”

“Mm.”

“That tone contains slander.”

Luo Ming leaned slightly closer across the table.

“And what has your professional observation concluded?”

Tang Hui opened her mouth automatically—

then paused.

Because answering honestly sounded dangerous.

Very dangerous.

Luo Ming noticed the hesitation immediately.

His smile deepened.

Terrible sign.

Tang Hui pointed at him accusingly.

“You’re enjoying this entirely too much.”

“Perhaps.”

“You’re provoking me intentionally.”

“Definitely.”

At least he admitted it.

Before Tang Hui could retaliate verbally, movement near the pavilion entrance interrupted them again.

A younger disciple rushed toward the stall looking pale with panic.

“Senior Sister Tang!”

Tang Hui immediately straightened.

Ah.

Emergency consultation aura.

The disciple bowed hurriedly while struggling to catch his breath.

“There’s a problem near the upper moon-viewing terrace.”

Tang Hui closed her eyes briefly.

Of course there was.

“What kind of problem?”

The disciple hesitated.

Then answered weakly:

“…A public confession may have triggered three simultaneous arguments.”