Chapter 56 The Matchmaker Finally Gets Matched

For one glorious second after Su Yan asked the question, Tang Hui considered pretending to faint.

It was not a dignified solution.

But it was a solution.

Unfortunately, before she could embarrass herself publicly, several hundred cultivators were already staring at her.

The moon-viewing plaza had become so quiet that the wind itself seemed reluctant to interrupt.

Tang Hui stood frozen at the center platform.

Su Yan stood a few steps away looking entirely too pleased with himself.

The menace.

The absolute menace.

Across the audience, Luo Ming physically covered his face while laughing silently.

Qin Yue looked as though she was contemplating violence.

Lin Qingyue appeared moments away from spiritual ascension through embarrassment.

And Gu Beichen—

Gu Beichen had stood up.

Tang Hui noticed immediately.

Because of course she did.

The sight somehow made the situation worse.

Much worse.

Su Yan folded his arms casually.

“Well?”

Tang Hui narrowed her eyes.

“You’re banned.”

“From what?”

“Everything.”

Several disciples immediately burst into laughter.

The tension cracked slightly.

Good.

Excellent.

Humor remained one of the few weapons available.

Unfortunately, Su Yan refused to die quietly.

“That doesn’t answer the question.”

The crowd collectively leaned forward.

Traitors.

Every single one of them.

Tang Hui pointed accusingly toward the audience.

“You people are enjoying this far too much.”

No one denied it.

Because no one could.

For months, Tang Hui had listened to everyone else’s emotional disasters.

For months, she had solved everyone else’s romantic confusion.

For months, she had sat safely behind the consultation desk dispensing wisdom.

Now?

The universe finally demanded repayment.

Cruel universe.

Very cruel universe.

Tang Hui looked toward Elder Shen hopefully.

The elder looked amused.

Amused.

No rescue coming from that direction.

Wonderful.

The silence stretched.

Then unexpectedly—

Tang Hui laughed.

The sound surprised even her.

Because suddenly the absurdity of the situation hit properly.

A failed outer disciple opened a ridiculous matchmaking stall.

The stall became a pavilion.

The pavilion became a sect institution.

And now hundreds of cultivators watched her own romantic life unfold like public theater.

Honestly?

It was exactly the sort of nonsense that always happened around her.

The realization calmed something inside her.

Tang Hui looked toward Su Yan.

Then smiled.

“Fine.”

The crowd stopped breathing again.

Su Yan looked delighted.

Dangerous.

Tang Hui folded her hands behind her back.

“If a matchmaker understands everyone else’s heart…” she repeated slowly.

The moonlit plaza remained silent.

Then she continued:

“Sometimes she’s the last person to understand her own.”

No laughter followed.

No teasing.

Just silence.

Soft silence.

Honest silence.

Because everyone recognized the truth immediately.

Tang Hui herself included.

Months ago, she would have deflected.

Joked.

Changed the subject.

Not anymore.

The realization settled quietly beneath the lantern light.

And for the first time—

she didn’t run from it.

Su Yan’s expression softened unexpectedly.

Not teasing now.

Not provoking.

Just understanding.

Interesting.

No.

Not interesting.

Respectful.

A much better word.

The menace finally stopped being a menace.

For approximately five seconds.

A personal record.

Then Elder Shen rose from his seat.

“The answer seems sufficient.”

The crowd laughed softly.

Several disciples looked oddly emotional.

Others looked deeply invested.

Tang Hui suspected rumors would multiply by tomorrow morning.

Unavoidable.

The elder raised a hand gently.

“The demonstration is concluded.”

Applause spread across the plaza.

Warm applause.

Sincere applause.

Tang Hui stood quietly while the sound echoed across the moonlit terraces.

The Matchmaking Pavilion had succeeded.

The gathering had succeeded.

Months of work had succeeded.

The realization felt strangely unreal.

Then the crowd gradually began dispersing.

Groups formed naturally across the terraces.

Conversations resumed.

The gathering slowly transitioned into a more relaxed evening celebration.

Tang Hui finally exhaled.

Survived.

Mostly.

Then Luo Ming appeared.

Naturally.

“Congratulations.”

Tang Hui narrowed her eyes.

“For what?”

“Publicly admitting emotional growth.”

“I hate you.”

“Understandable.”

Qin Yue arrived moments later.

Unlike Luo Ming, she offered genuine congratulations.

“The demonstration went well.”

Tang Hui smiled faintly.

“Thank you.”

A brief pause.

Then Qin Yue added:

“You should probably stop avoiding the obvious now.”

Tang Hui blinked.

“…You too?”

Traitors everywhere.

The pair eventually departed, leaving Tang Hui alone near the edge of the viewing terrace.

For the first time all evening—

quiet.

Actual quiet.

The moon hung high above the mountains.

Lanterns drifted across the night sky.

Far below, Qingyun Sect glowed softly among the clouds.

Beautiful.

Peaceful.

Temporary.

No.

Not temporary anymore.

That realization returned again.

The pavilion wasn’t temporary.

Her place here wasn’t temporary.

Nothing felt temporary anymore.

Footsteps approached behind her.

Familiar footsteps.

Tang Hui smiled before turning around.

Gu Beichen stood there.

Just the two of them now.

No audience.

No disciples.

No Su Yan.

Thank the heavens.

The mountain breeze stirred softly between them.

For a moment neither spoke.

Then Tang Hui broke first.

“Your friend is terrible.”

A pause.

Then—

unexpectedly—

Gu Beichen laughed.

Actually laughed.

Not a small smile.

Not restrained amusement.

A real laugh.

Tang Hui stared.

“…You can do that?”

The laughter faded gradually.

His eyes remained warm.

Dangerously warm.

“I’ve been told that before.”

Tang Hui felt her heartbeat become suspicious immediately.

Very suspicious.

The terrace grew quiet again.

But unlike before—

the silence no longer felt uncertain.

Something had changed tonight.

Not dramatically.

Just enough.

Enough that neither pretended anymore.

Enough that neither hid.

Enough that both understood.

Gu Beichen looked toward the moonlit mountains briefly.

Then back at her.

“You were right.”

Tang Hui blinked.

“About what?”

“The pavilion.”

A pause.

Then:

“It became something important.”

The words settled softly into the night.

Tang Hui looked toward the distant lights below.

The pavilion.

The disciples.

The friends she made.

The home she never expected.

A warm ache settled in her chest.

Then Gu Beichen continued quietly:

“And so did you.”

Silence.

Complete silence.

Tang Hui stared at him.

Because somehow—

after everything—

that simple sentence affected her more than anything else he had ever said.

And for the first time—

she didn’t look away.