Guide of the Sichuan Tang Clan C19

Chapter 19

NAmya truly seemed intent on trimming medicinal herbs, for he did not leave the training grounds. Thanks to that, Eunmyeong found himself seated on the wooden veranda beside him, sorting herbs together.

Damn old man—he could’ve just told the underlings to do it.

At Eunmyeong’s house, there were plenty of people besides himself who could handle such work. Namya, being a clan elder who often moved between the main estate and their own home, had considerable standing in Sichuan and earned well through medical practice; naturally, they had many servants.

Even without servants, the disciples could’ve done it!

Plenty of aspiring martial physicians trained under Namya. If each lent a single hand, this amount would be finished in no time.

Eunmyeong shot Namya a covert glare while shaking dirt off a bundle of herbs. The stems bore streaks of red—the telltale sign of Simgancho, a plant used to make paralysis poison. Snapping off the leaves as if braiding a girl’s hair, Eunmyeong heard Namya speak.

“Everything shows, Tang Eunmyeong.”

“I told you—my surname is Namgung Eunmyeong now.”

“So yesterday you disappear without a word, and today you go around changing your family name?”

Eunmyeong was about to provoke him further—Then what should I do tomorrow?—when his head turned sharply toward the inner training field. Something felt wrong.

There were far too many people training in one place; the air was thick with the chaotic waves of countless espers, making it difficult to distinguish one from another. Eunmyeong tossed the herbs into the basket and stood quickly.

“Hm?”

Namya frowned at Eunmyeong, who had abruptly raised his head and was staring intently into the distance.

“What is it? Is something there?”

A disturbing wave stirred deeper within the training grounds. Judging by its size, it wasn’t coming from someone highly skilled. Eunmyeong stepped forward—and saw a young boy training off to the side.

He’s too young to be here…

The boy looked even smaller than Jeongho, who was twenty. Perhaps fifteen, sixteen? In Eunmyeong’s original world, he would barely be in elementary school. Yet here he was, rolling across the ground.

“That brat… I clearly told him only to run laps.”

As Namya said, the boy was doing exactly what he had been forbidden to do. Wanting to imitate the older disciples’ flashy techniques, he had snuck a handful of throwing blades.

He stepped forward forcefully. The blades flew awkwardly across the air. At that same instant, he exceeded his internal limit, releasing more energy than his tiny body could handle, and his wave went berserk.

“Hey!”

Eunmyeong shouted just as the boy collapsed.

Yujo barely managed to catch him before he hit the ground. Seeing the child limp in Yujo’s arms, others quickly gathered. Mujin, who had just returned to the field, strode toward them at once.

“Yuseong! Come on, wake up!”

Yujo patted the boy’s cheeks, but the small body only swayed, showing no sign of waking.

He was their treasured youngest. Much younger than Yujo, Yuseong had begged to visit the training grounds since he was a toddler. Yujo had refused—too dangerous, too soon—and only agreed six months ago. Though disciples of other clans began training at Yuseong’s age, Yujo had always seen him as a child needing protection.

He checked Yuseong’s breath. It was faint.

Elder Namya…!

Yujo thought instantly of Namya. The clan’s physician—if anyone could save Yuseong, it was him. Yujo moved to stand, lifting the boy.

But Eunmyeong shoved between them.

“What are you doing standing there!”

Kneeling before Yuseong, Eunmyeong was nearly as frantic as when he first saw Mujin on the verge of collapse.

At least Mujin had a strong vessel. This child is too small—too frail!

This tiny body could not withstand a runaway wave.

Before Eunmyeong could take Yuseong’s hand—

“What are you doing! Where is the Elder! Why are you stepping in!”

Yujo slapped Eunmyeong’s hand aside and trapped the child in his arms.

“Is this really the time for that!?”

“And why would I entrust my brother to you? You’ve only wrapped a few bandages and stuck a few needles—what about that makes you a physician!?”

Yujo’s eyes flared with fury. He looked ready to throw daggers, but Eunmyeong did not back down.

The boy’s wave surged faster and higher. Guiding a runaway esper was a battle against time—once the wave crossed a certain threshold, even an S-class Guide could not recover it. And no medical technique could suppress a surge of this magnitude.

He must be guided—now!

“Hurry and give him to me! Do you want him to die!?”

“What would you know, you brat! Get lost!”

“You get lost! This isn’t the time—!”

Eunmyeong reached again just as Yujo tried to stand with the boy.

That was when Mujin kicked Yujo’s knee out from under him.

“Agh!”

With a sharp thud, Yujo staggered, and Mujin snatched the child from his arms as if plucking fruit from a branch.

He held Yuseong out toward Eunmyeong.

“Can you truly treat him?”

Their gazes met—deep black eyes without trust, but without contempt either. A serious, unwavering question.

Eunmyeong nodded.

“I can save him. And I will.”

“You must.”

“Of course.”

He gathered the child into his arms, sitting on the dusty ground. One hand cradled Yuseong’s head; the other retrieved a needle from his sleeve.

I should at least pretend to use acupuncture.

Because of his promise to Cheongwu, he could not openly reveal guiding here—not in front of so many witnesses.

As he pretended to search for a pressure point, Yujo tried to lunge again. Mujin blocked him.

“Clan Head’s Heir!”

“Enough. Saving him is the priority.”

For a moment, Yujo wondered if Mujin had gone mad. Though cold, Mujin was not heartless—he never forced anyone beyond their limits and knew his disciples’ conditions better than they did.

But now? He stood like an immovable mountain between Eunmyeong and all threats.

“Move! Yuseong will die!”

“He will not.”

“Please! I beg—!”

Others around them cried out as well—disturbed by the sight of Eunmyeong holding the child. But none dared push past Mujin.

Tension choked the air as Eunmyeong guided frantically.

Please… please…!

He hugged the tiny child close, increasing the area of contact. Yuseong was so small—so painfully vulnerable.

Images of children he had failed to save flashed across his mind. The acrid smell of fear, tiny limbs trembling, their faint cries—memories etched like scars into his soul.

“Aga…”

(Little one…)

His energy wrapped around the boy’s chaotic wave.

“U…uhh…”

A small whimper escaped Yuseong. His eyes scrunched tightly shut.

With that, the wave began to settle.

“Huwaaah!”

Yuseong burst into tears and clung to Eunmyeong’s neck—the instinctive reaction of an esper seeking more guiding.

“Yuseong!”

Now Mujin stepped aside, allowing Yujo to rush forward. He tried to pull the boy away—but Yuseong only tightened his grip.

“N-no! Don’t wanna!”

“You—! Yuseong! Snap out of it!”

“Huk… hngh…!”

Tears fell in fat drops. He wrapped both legs around Eunmyeong’s waist as well, clinging like a baby koala.

Yujo froze, aghast at the sight of his normally timid, well-behaved brother sobbing and refusing to let go.

Eunmyeong only patted the boy’s back gently, though he secretly worried about his clothes.