Chapter 40 Gu Beichen Starts Trying Very Hard

Tang Hui made the catastrophic mistake of avoiding Gu Beichen for exactly two days.

This failed immediately.

Primarily because Gu Beichen approached avoidance the same way he approached sword cultivation:
calmly,
directly,
and with terrifying persistence.

By the third morning, Tang Hui arrived at the pavilion only to find the front courtyard already cleaned, the damaged lantern hooks repaired, and fresh tea prepared inside.

She stopped at the doorway suspiciously.

“…No.”

Old Chen glanced over from his artifact stall without sympathy.

“He arrived before sunrise.”

Tang Hui stared blankly at the spotless courtyard.

“He repaired the roof tiles too.”

Tang Hui looked upward in horror.

The broken section above the western beams—the section she ignored for nearly two months—had indeed been repaired perfectly.

Not even a visible crack remained.

This was escalating dangerously.

Inside the pavilion, several disciples already sat waiting for consultations. The moment Tang Hui entered, they immediately turned toward her with expressions ranging from curiosity to suppressed excitement.

Ah.

They knew.

Of course they knew.

The sect possessed less privacy than a public marketplace.

Tang Hui marched directly toward the consultation desk while refusing eye contact with anyone.

“Good morning, Senior Sister Tang,” one disciple greeted carefully.

Tang Hui narrowed her eyes.

“That tone sounds suspicious.”

The disciple looked innocent.

Poorly innocent.

Before Tang Hui could continue interrogating him, another voice spoke calmly from the side room.

“You arrived later than usual.”

Tang Hui froze.

Gu Beichen stepped out carrying fresh tea cups with complete composure, as though secretly renovating someone’s pavilion before dawn represented normal social behavior.

Which, unfortunately, might actually be normal for him personally.

Tang Hui stared at him for several long seconds.

“…Senior Brother.”

“Yes?”

“Why are you repairing my roof?”

“It was damaged.”

“That is not a sufficient explanation.”

Gu Beichen considered this seriously.

“You mentioned rain leaking onto the consultation records last week.”

Dead silence.

Several disciples physically leaned closer.

Tang Hui pointed toward them immediately.

“No eavesdropping.”

Nobody moved away.

Traitors.

Gu Beichen set the tea down carefully before looking at her again.

“I also reorganized the storage shelves.”

Tang Hui nearly developed spiritual deviation.

“You entered my storage room?”

“The talisman stacks were unstable.”

“…That was intentional.”

“No,” Gu Beichen replied calmly. “It was dangerous.”

Tang Hui opened her mouth—

then closed it again.

Because unfortunately, he was probably correct.

The pavilion storage room resembled a collapsed archive most days.

Still.

That was not the point.

The point was that Gu Beichen had apparently started helping around the pavilion instinctively now.

Without asking.

Without expectation.

Just because he noticed things needing attention.

Tang Hui sat slowly behind the consultation desk while several horrifying realizations formed simultaneously.

This man was not performing grand romantic gestures dramatically.

He was quietly integrating himself into her daily life piece by piece.

Which honestly felt far more dangerous.

One of the disciples finally gathered enough courage to speak.

“Senior Sister Tang,” he asked carefully, “does this count as consistent thoughtful behavior?”

Tang Hui stared at him.

The disciple shrank slightly.

“Hypothetically,” he added weakly.

Tang Hui pointed directly at the consultation line.

“Everyone here suddenly owes double fees.”

The pavilion dissolved into laughter.

Even Gu Beichen looked faintly amused now.

Tang Hui noticed immediately.

Another recent change.

Before, his expressions rarely shifted at all.

Now subtle reactions appeared more naturally around the pavilion.

Small things:
slight amusement,
brief confusion,
quiet warmth.

Like the emotional walls around him gradually lowered without either of them fully realizing.

Dangerous development.

Tang Hui quickly redirected attention toward work before her own thoughts became suspicious.

“All right,” she announced briskly. “Who’s first?”

The consultations began normally enough afterward.

One disciple accidentally confessed while arguing.

Another believed his crush hated him because she spoke bluntly, only for Tang Hui to explain that some women simply communicated directly.

A third spent fifteen minutes asking whether shared umbrella usage during rain carried romantic significance.

“It depends,” Tang Hui answered patiently.

“On what?”

“Whether the umbrella invitation included normal politeness or visible panic.”

The disciple looked spiritually enlightened.

Meanwhile, throughout every consultation, Gu Beichen remained nearby quietly repairing random pavilion issues.

A loose chair leg.

Damaged window frames.

Crooked shelves.

At one point Tang Hui looked up and found him replacing an entire lantern support beam.

“…Senior Brother.”

“Yes?”

“You know this is technically free labor.”

“That’s acceptable.”

“No it isn’t,” Tang Hui argued automatically. “You’re an inner sect sword cultivator.”

“Yes.”

“You should be doing important cultivation things.”

Gu Beichen adjusted the beam calmly.

“This feels important.”

Silence.

Complete devastating silence.

The disciples looked ready to ascend emotionally.

Tang Hui physically looked away toward the window.

This man truly learned how to say sincere things recently and immediately became hazardous to public stability.

Around midday, Lin Qingyue arrived carrying herbal tea and immediately paused after surveying the pavilion.

Her eyes moved slowly across:
the repaired shelves,
the organized records,
the new roof supports,
and finally toward Gu Beichen currently fixing a broken lantern bracket.

Lin Qingyue blinked once.

“…Senior Brother.”

Gu Beichen glanced toward her. “Hm?”

“…Have you been here all morning?”

“Yes.”

Another pause.

Then Lin Qingyue quietly turned toward Tang Hui with unmistakable sympathy.

Tang Hui pointed accusingly.

“Don’t look at me like that.”

“You seem stressed.”

“I am being domesticated against my will.”

Several nearby disciples collapsed laughing.

Gu Beichen frowned slightly from across the pavilion.

“Domesticated?”

“Forget I said that.”

Too late.

The phrase immediately spread through the pavilion like spiritual wildfire.

Tang Hui hated everyone.

Still—

despite the chaos—

the atmosphere inside the pavilion felt strangely warm today.

Comfortable.

Natural.

Disciples laughed more easily now.

People lingered after consultations just to talk.

The pavilion no longer resembled a temporary business stall.

It felt lived-in.

And unfortunately, Gu Beichen fit into that atmosphere with alarming ease.

Tang Hui noticed it every time she looked up unconsciously expecting him nearby—
and finding him there.

The realization unsettled her more than dramatic confessions ever could.

Because quiet consistency crept into people’s hearts before they noticed properly.

She knew that professionally.

Which meant she also recognized exactly what was happening to herself.

Ah.

Terrible.

Absolutely terrible.

Late afternoon sunlight spilled softly through the pavilion windows while disciples gradually filtered out toward evening cultivation sessions.

For once, the consultation lines finally shortened.

Tang Hui leaned back slightly in her chair, reviewing the day’s notes while enjoying the rare quiet.

Then movement near the doorway caught her attention.

Qin Yue entered calmly, carrying several formation scrolls beneath one arm.

Her gaze swept once across the pavilion interior—
the repaired structures,
organized shelves,
and Gu Beichen currently adjusting tea storage arrangements.

A long silence followed.

Then Qin Yue looked toward Tang Hui.

“…He nested.”

Tang Hui choked violently on tea.

Across the room, Luo Ming—who had apparently arrived behind Qin Yue unnoticed—burst into laughter loud enough to shake the lanterns overhead.

Gu Beichen himself looked completely confused.

Tang Hui covered her face immediately.

“No one speak for the next five minutes.”