To survive the heavy, humid air of the South China coast, the French built upward. When the consulate was constructed in 1890, the architects placed the entire structure on a two-meter-high stone platform. This elevation served a highly practical function, protecting the floorboards from the subtropical damp, while physically lifting the representatives of the French Republic above the port city of Beihai.

The building's footprint, a deep U-shape stretching roughly 35 by 20 meters, is wrapped entirely in wide verandas. These continuous corridors caught the coastal cross-breezes, cooling the interior and shielding the rooms from the harsh midday sun. The verandas are lined with balustrades punctuated by blue ceramic vases—a local material adaptation of European classical forms. At the northwestern corner, an octagonal water tower signals the consulate’s independence from the surrounding city infrastructure in an era before municipal utilities. Embedded near the base, a stone bears the inscription "大法领事府" in both Chinese and French, permanently stamping foreign authority into the Guangxi soil.

Inside, the layout was designed to sustain an illusion of European life on the edge of the Gulf of Tonkin. The rooms were partitioned into a billiard hall, a formal dining space, and private quarters warmed by fireplaces—a feature seemingly unsuited to the southern Chinese climate, yet essential for maintaining cultural habits. France maintained its diplomatic presence in this building for 64 years. It outlasted the seven other foreign powers that established outposts in Beihai following the 1876 Chefoo Convention, surviving the fall of the Qing dynasty, the republican era, and two world wars.

In 1973, the building underwent a profound physical and political transformation. Planners added a second story to the original single-level structure, converting the colonial outpost into Building No. 5 of the Beihai Guest House. The spaces where French diplomats once negotiated trade advantages were repurposed to host Chinese state leaders and modern foreign dignitaries. Today, deep green camphor trees shade the approach. The European arches and the modern hotel additions exist together in a single mass of masonry, holding the memory of a foreign treaty port and the reality of a modern sovereign nation within the exact same walls.