Chapter 39 Tang Hui Realizes Matchmakers Should Not Become Targets

Tang Hui spent the next thirty seconds trying to understand how her own pavilion turned against her.

Gu Beichen still stood near the entrance holding several carefully packed food containers while the surrounding disciples collectively forgot how breathing worked.

No one moved.

No one spoke.

Even Old Chen had wandered halfway into the pavilion looking spiritually fascinated.

Tang Hui stared at the lunch containers as though they might explode.

“…Senior Brother.”

“Yes?”

“Why are you feeding me?”

Several disciples made choking noises immediately.

Tang Hui ignored them.

Gu Beichen, meanwhile, looked completely calm beneath the growing emotional catastrophe around him.

“You’ve been busy,” he answered simply. “And yesterday you mentioned forgetting dinner during festival preparation.”

The silence deepened further.

Because unfortunately—

that sounded painfully thoughtful.

Tang Hui slowly turned toward Lin Qingyue.

“Please control your sword cultivator.”

Lin Qingyue covered her face instantly.

“I don’t think anyone can.”

Fair point.

Gu Beichen still appeared faintly confused by everyone’s reactions. Which honestly made the situation worse somehow.

The man had spent so long emotionally repressed that now every genuine gesture landed like heavenly tribulation among ordinary disciples.

Tang Hui pressed two fingers against her forehead briefly.

No exhaustion repetition.

Recover professionally.

“You didn’t need to bring food personally,” she said more carefully.

Gu Beichen set the containers onto the consultation table with terrifying seriousness.

“I was already nearby.”

Liar.

Everyone in the room recognized that lie immediately.

One outer disciple looked moments away from passing out spiritually.

Tang Hui pointed sharply toward the waiting consultation line before rumors could evolve further.

“Everyone with emotional problems, sit down immediately.”

No one moved.

They were all still staring at Gu Beichen.

Tang Hui exhaled slowly.

“This pavilion has lost discipline.”

Luo Ming finally entered fully from the doorway, eyes openly amused now.

“Oh?” he mused lightly. “Did I miss something interesting?”

Tang Hui narrowed her eyes.

“You know perfectly well what’s happening.”

“True.”

Traitorous man.

Luo Ming glanced toward the food containers before looking at Gu Beichen thoughtfully.

“Bringing meals personally now?” he asked.

Gu Beichen nodded once. “It seemed appropriate.”

Tang Hui nearly flipped the table.

Because again—

that sounded exactly like something she would advise romantically interested disciples to do.

The irony felt spiritually malicious.

Lin Qingyue finally stepped forward to salvage the situation before the pavilion disciples dissolved permanently into gossip.

“Senior Brother Gu only meant to help,” she explained gently.

Several disciples immediately looked unconvinced.

Reasonable reaction.

Tang Hui herself also looked unconvinced.

Still—

before the situation escalated further—

a new voice interrupted from the consultation line.

“Senior Sister Tang,” one disciple asked cautiously, “hypothetically speaking…”

Tang Hui immediately distrusted the word hypothetically.

“…Yes?”

“If someone remembers your meals, brings you food personally, notices your schedule, and visits constantly…” The disciple hesitated. “What does that usually mean?”

The pavilion exploded.

Lin Qingyue nearly died on the spot.

Old Chen physically walked outside to laugh openly.

Luo Ming turned away entirely, shoulders shaking faintly.

Even Qin Yue—who had apparently arrived silently moments earlier—closed her eyes briefly as though reconsidering sect life choices.

Tang Hui sat frozen behind the consultation desk.

Because technically—

professionally—

she knew the answer.

Hopelessly well.

Worse, every disciple inside the pavilion also knew she knew the answer.

The unfortunate part about becoming good at reading emotions was eventually those same patterns surrounded you too.

Tang Hui pointed at the questioning disciple with absolute calm she did not internally possess.

“Hypothetically,” she said evenly, “that person probably cares deeply.”

Dead silence followed.

Then every single disciple in the pavilion looked directly at Gu Beichen.

Including Gu Beichen himself eventually.

Ah.

There it was.

The delayed realization.

Tang Hui watched the exact moment understanding finally appeared in his expression.

Subtle.

Very subtle.

But present.

His gaze shifted slowly toward her.

The atmosphere immediately became dangerous.

Tang Hui reacted on instinct.

“Wonderful!” she announced loudly while standing abruptly. “Consultations are temporarily paused. Everyone go outside.”

The disciples protested instantly.

Tang Hui pointed toward the door.

“No audience privileges during emotional emergencies.”

“You’re having an emotional emergency?” Luo Ming asked pleasantly.

Tang Hui pointed at him next.

“Especially you.”

Unfortunately, the pavilion had become too crowded to remove everyone efficiently. Half the disciples pretended to reorganize paperwork while obviously remaining nearby intentionally.

Traitors everywhere.

Gu Beichen still stood near the consultation table, silent now in a way Tang Hui did not entirely trust.

The earlier realization clearly continued processing internally.

Tang Hui suddenly became very aware of several things simultaneously:

* he visited the pavilion almost daily now,
* he remembered small details she mentioned casually,
* he looked for her first during sect gatherings,
* and apparently started bringing her meals instinctively.

Ah.

Absolutely not.

Tang Hui mentally rejected the entire situation immediately.

Matchmakers should not become involved in romance personally.

That sounded professionally irresponsible.

Also terrifying.

Before anyone could speak again, Qin Yue stepped calmly into the pavilion proper.

Perfect timing.

Actually useful timing for once.

“Junior Sister Tang,” she said smoothly, “the formation hall requested your consultation records from the festival disputes.”

Tang Hui instantly recognized rescue.

Bless Qin Yue spiritually forever.

“Yes,” Tang Hui replied immediately. “Very important records. Extremely urgent.”

Without hesitation, she grabbed the nearest stack of completely unrelated papers and marched toward the back room.

Professional retreat successful.

Mostly.

As she escaped, she heard Luo Ming laughing softly behind her.

Infuriating man.

The back records room remained quieter than the main pavilion, lantern light filtering softly through paper windows while shelves overflowed with consultation notes and sect correspondence.

Tang Hui placed the random documents onto a table dramatically before exhaling.

No panic.

Everything manageable.

Probably.

The door slid open several moments later.

Qin Yue entered first.

Tang Hui looked genuinely grateful.

“You saved my life.”

“You looked overwhelmed.”

“Correct observation.”

Qin Yue leaned lightly against the nearby shelf, expression calm but not entirely unreadable.

Tang Hui narrowed her eyes slightly.

“…You seem entertained.”

“A little.”

Betrayal.

Tang Hui groaned softly before dropping into the nearest chair.

“This is unacceptable,” she muttered. “I spent months helping emotionally constipated cultivators communicate properly only for the universe to retaliate personally.”

Qin Yue’s expression softened again.

Dangerous recent habit.

“You’re overreacting slightly.”

“Am I?”

“Yes.”

Tang Hui folded her arms stubbornly.

“Senior Brother Gu is emotionally intense. Everything involving him becomes emotionally intense.”

“That’s true.”

“And disciples already spread enough rumors about this pavilion.”

“Also true.”

Tang Hui looked vindicated immediately.

Qin Yue, however, continued calmly:

“But you didn’t deny the actual issue.”

Silence.

Tang Hui froze.

Qin Yue watched her steadily beneath the warm lantern light.

Not judgmental.

Just observant.

Which somehow felt worse.

Tang Hui opened her mouth automatically—

then paused.

Because honestly?

She did not know how to answer.

Not properly.

Gu Beichen mattered to her.

Obviously.

He had become one of the closest people around her without either of them noticing when exactly it happened.

She trusted him.

Liked his quiet sincerity.

Enjoyed his presence in the pavilion.

And somewhere along the way, his visits stopped feeling surprising and started feeling… expected.

Ah.

Dangerous realization.

Tang Hui leaned back slowly in her chair.

“This is why cultivators should focus on cultivation,” she declared weakly.

Qin Yue almost smiled.

Almost.

“Too late for that,” she said quietly.