Chapter 1 Matchmaking Is More Profitable Than Cultivation

Tang Hui stared blankly at the cracked spirit stone in her hand.

Then she stared at the equally cracked measuring formation beneath her feet.

Then back at the spirit stone again.

Silence filled the testing hall.

Finally, the elder responsible for the outer disciples sighed heavily enough to shake the incense burner beside him.

“…Still no movement.”

Tang Hui smiled weakly. “Perhaps the formation is broken?”

The elder looked at her like he had just heard a chicken claim enlightenment.

“This formation has existed for three hundred years.”

“Oh.”

Another silence.

Several nearby disciples tried—and failed—to hide their laughter.

“She’s still at the third stage of Qi Gathering?”

“After entering the sect for five years?”

“I heard even the kitchen chickens absorb spiritual energy faster than her.”

Tang Hui’s eyelid twitched.

The elder rubbed his forehead. “Tang Hui.”

“Yes, Elder Xu.”

“Have you truly been cultivating properly?”

Tang Hui immediately looked offended. “Of course! I meditate every day.”

Mostly during afternoon naps.

Elder Xu stared at her suspiciously before waving his sleeve in exhaustion.

“At this rate, you will never pass the inner sect examination.”

A devastating statement.

Especially because Tang Hui already knew it.

The Qingyun Sect accepted hundreds of outer disciples every year, but only a handful entered the inner sect. Those who failed to advance after a certain age were eventually sent away to manage mortal businesses under the sect’s authority.

Normally, this would be considered disgraceful.

Tang Hui, however, suddenly found the idea extremely attractive.

Managing businesses sounded wonderful.

Businesses earned spirit stones.

Spirit stones bought food.

Food created happiness.

Unlike cultivation.

Cultivation only created stress, back pain, and emotional damage.

“Next!” Elder Xu barked impatiently.

Tang Hui quickly stepped off the formation platform while enduring sympathetic looks from some disciples and mocking smiles from others.

As she passed by, one particularly annoying disciple smirked.

“Junior Sister Tang, perhaps you should try dual cultivation instead.”

The surrounding disciples burst into laughter.

Tang Hui looked at him calmly.

“Senior Brother Zhao.”

“Hm?”

“You failed your sword trial three times because you were distracted by your own reflection.”

The laughter instantly changed direction.

Senior Brother Zhao’s face turned green.

Tang Hui walked away before he could explode.

Winning arguments while being weak was one of the few survival skills she had mastered over the years.

Unfortunately, survival skills did not improve cultivation.

By the time she returned to her tiny courtyard, the sun had already begun setting behind the distant mountains.

Tang Hui pushed open the crooked wooden gate and collapsed onto the stone steps.

A chicken wandered past her feet.

It paused.

Then pecked her shoe aggressively.

Tang Hui sighed.

“Even you’re bullying me now?”

The chicken clucked arrogantly and walked away.

Heartless creature.

Tang Hui leaned against the pillar behind her and stared at the darkening sky.

Five years.

Five entire years.

Other disciples advanced realms, comprehended sword intent, contracted spirit beasts, or encountered mysterious inheritances.

Tang Hui?

Tang Hui had perfected absolutely nothing besides avoiding debt at the dining hall.

At first, she had genuinely believed hard work could solve everything.

Then reality repeatedly slapped her in the face.

Some people simply lacked talent.

She accepted this now.

Honestly, cultivation itself was exhausting.

Meditating for six hours only to absorb enough spiritual energy to slightly brighten one meridian was a terrible lifestyle choice.

And sect politics?

Even worse.

Yesterday, two sword cultivators nearly destroyed a courtyard because one accused the other of “looking too arrogantly while drinking tea.”

Cultivators were insane.

All of them.

Tang Hui suddenly sat upright.

Wait.

Her eyes slowly widened.

Cultivators were insane.

And insane people often made terrible romantic decisions.

A strange expression appeared on her face.

“…That’s it.”

The next morning, Qingyun Sect’s outer market gained a very unusual stall.

Most stalls sold pills, talismans, spirit herbs, or low-grade artifacts.

Tang Hui’s stall contained none of those things.

Instead, a crooked wooden sign stood proudly in front of her table.

[ MYSTICAL MATCHMAKING ]

Below that, in smaller writing:

[ Guaranteed Romantic Compatibility ]
[ First Consultation Free ]

Passing disciples stared at her like she had suffered qi deviation.

Tang Hui ignored them calmly.

A business required confidence.

Even fake confidence counted.

One disciple finally stopped in front of her stall.

“…Junior Sister Tang.”

Tang Hui smiled professionally. “Welcome.”

“What exactly are you doing?”

“Helping lonely cultivators find love.”

The disciple nearly choked.

Tang Hui continued smoothly, “Think about it. Cultivation is long and difficult. Companionship is important.”

The disciple looked horrified.

“You opened a matchmaking stall inside a cultivation sect?”

“Yes.”

“…You’re serious?”

“Very.”

The disciple stared at the sign again.

Then at Tang Hui.

Then back at the sign.

“…You’ve completely given up on cultivation, haven’t you?”

Tang Hui’s smile became even brighter.

“Correct.”

Another disciple suddenly approached the stall with great interest.

He lowered his voice cautiously.

“If… hypothetically… someone liked a senior sister…”

Tang Hui immediately straightened.

Business.

Actual business.

She gestured solemnly toward the chair opposite her.

“Please sit down.”

The disciple hesitated before sitting nervously.

Tang Hui folded her hands together like an experienced expert.

“What is your name?”

“Wu Liang.”

“Cultivation level?”

“Sixth stage Qi Gathering.”

Tang Hui nodded wisely despite understanding absolutely nothing useful from that information.

“And the senior sister?”

Wu Liang’s ears turned red.

“She’s from the sword hall.”

Tang Hui immediately understood the problem.

Sword cultivators were terrifying.

Emotionally unstable.

Probably violent.

“Have you spoken to her?”

“…No.”

“Does she know you exist?”

“…Probably not.”

Tang Hui closed her eyes briefly.

An extremely difficult case.

Still, a professional must remain calm.

She lowered her voice mysteriously.

“Junior Brother Wu.”

“Yes?”

“Women appreciate sincerity.”

Wu Liang looked enlightened.

Tang Hui continued confidently, “Do not challenge random people to duels. Do not write blood letters. And absolutely do not stand outside her courtyard playing a flute at midnight.”

Wu Liang looked startled.

“I was planning the flute thing.”

“Don’t.”

“…Understood.”

Tang Hui nodded approvingly.

Then she extended her hand.

“Five spirit stones.”

Wu Liang froze.

“For advice?”

“Premium advice.”

After several painful expressions, Wu Liang reluctantly handed over five spirit stones.

Tang Hui accepted them with trembling excitement.

Spirit stones.

Actual spirit stones.

Earned without meditating once.

Her heart shook violently.

This was it.

This was her true Dao.

Not cultivation.

Not swordsmanship.

Not alchemy.

Matchmaking.

Tang Hui watched Wu Liang leave with hopeful determination in his eyes.

Then she looked down at the spirit stones in her palm.

A slow smile spread across her face.

For the first time in five years, Tang Hui suddenly felt optimistic about her future.