Guide of the Sichuan Tang Clan C37

Chapter 37

Mujin had barely managed to anchor himself by driving his throwing knife into the ground. The composure that usually defined his features had been twisted into an expression of raw pain, and hot sweat streamed down his brow.

Agony he had not felt since Eunmyeong came to his side surged through his body once more. A searing heat poured out from his chest, leaving him unable even to breathe properly.

Everything was incomplete—Mancheonhwau, his dantian, and the flow of his internal energy alike.

“Get a grip! Young Master!”

That was the moment a single hand burst out of the darkness.

“Tang Mujin!”

Eunmyeong’s hand cupped his cheek. Along with the warmth of his body, energy seeped into Mujin.

It was light.

Brighter than sunlight itself, it drove the pain away. Faster than poison could spread, the radiance surged straight into Mujin’s chest.

Mujin lifted his gaze toward that light.

“Can you hear me? Are you okay?”

Eunmyeong asked again and again, his face etched with worry. In those pitch-black eyes, only Mujin was reflected. Seeing his own image captured there, his name shaped by those lips—it was strangely satisfying.

So this is it.

The reason everything had felt so wrong until now.

Having finally understood his own feelings, Mujin leaned into Eunmyeong’s hand.

There was a limit to what could be transmitted through the hands alone. To pour in more energy, their bodies had to be pressed closer together.

“Why do you keep treating your body so recklessly, huh?”

“…My head’s ringing. Speak more quietly.”

“Ah, Young Master!”

He wanted to smack him squarely on the back, but calming the raging wave came first.

“First, try standing up. I need to check your condition.”

Supporting Mujin’s slumped body, Eunmyeong reached for the knot of his clothes. He swiftly pulled open Mujin’s robe and inner garments, making Mujin’s brow twitch as if to ask what he was doing.

Even now, displaying irritation, Mujin made Eunmyeong snap,

“This is no time to be modest! Don’t just sit there—hurry up and take it off, all right?”

“…Like this morning? Now…?”

Eunmyeong brushed aside Mujin’s hesitating hand and yanked at his clothes. In an instant, Mujin’s solid body was exposed. Normally, Eunmyeong would have stolen glances with enthusiasm—but now, not even that impulse arose.

Voices reached them faintly from beyond the fog, and Mujin hurriedly grabbed his inner robe, clutching the half-hanging garment with all his might. He looked like a shy newlywed.

“No—let’s not do this here. If we go to my quarters now—”

“Do you want to die?”

Eunmyeong glared at him sharply.

“Do you even understand the situation? If you’re not treated right now, there’s no telling what’ll happen. I warned you this morning, and you’re the one who overdid it.”

“Who says I overdid anything?”

Mujin turned his head away. Even drenched in sweat, pretending not to hear him—it was infuriating.

“Then can I leave?”

“….”

“Since Jeongho’s wave didn’t look normal either, this works out nicely. I can check on him first, right?”

As Eunmyeong made a motion to pull his hand from Mujin’s cheek, Mujin finally turned back, irritation flickering across his face. Eunmyeong snapped at him,

“You seriously never listen.”

Then Eunmyeong shrugged off his own clothes and opened his arms, slipping straight into Mujin’s embrace.

Smooth skin pressed against Mujin’s chest. As the area of contact increased, so did the efficiency of the guiding. Feeling the sudden influx of energy, Mujin let out a low groan.

“Ugh….”

No matter how many times he received it, he never grew accustomed to the sensation. The warmer the light wrapped around him, the more he wanted to lean into it. The sense of fulfillment this small body gave him was astonishing.

Instinctively, Mujin wrapped both arms around Eunmyeong—tight enough to steal his breath, tight enough to hide him completely. Feeling that soft body beneath his arms made Mujin’s heart pound.

He can hear it.

Loud enough to echo outside—certainly loud enough for Eunmyeong, pressed against his chest.

Mujin shifted his posture—

“Ah—wait!”

Eunmyeong groaned as pain flared in his arm, the wound pressed when Mujin’s weight shifted.

Startled, Mujin pulled away at once. Spotting the injury immediately, he gently grasped Eunmyeong’s arm. Beneath the torn sleeve, a patch of skin had turned violet.

“What in the world is this—!”

Mujin’s face twisted in anguish. Eunmyeong was the one injured, yet Mujin looked as though he himself had been wounded. His jaw clenched tightly.

Even with immunity, poison seeping directly into a wound was lethal. And Eunmyeong, untrained in martial arts, had no strength to drive it out.

Eunmyeong glanced calmly at his arm.

“Oh, this?”

That casual tone made Mujin’s face crumple.

“This?”

“Yes?”

“You’re calling this just that?”

His voice dropped lower. Seeing that clear, clueless face only fueled his anger.

“You take such care of my body—how can you treat your own so carelessly? What were you thinking, staying in the poison fog!”

Even as he spoke sharply, Mujin knew how seriously Eunmyeong took his role as the clan’s physician—preparing herbs every morning, studying manuals whenever he had time, worrying over Mujin’s condition day after day.

Knowing that made it worse—seeing him indifferent to his own injuries. Reckless fool. Had he not stayed in the poison fog, this would have been easily treated.

“At this level, even moving must hurt!”

“But it’s not urgent.”

“Then what is urgent—!”

Still in Mujin’s arms, Eunmyeong peeked up at him, not forgetting to cling to his back lest the guiding break.

Feeling the movement, Mujin fell silent.

“You are, Young Master. You’re urgent to me. Treating the most urgent first—that’s my rule.”

“….”

“I never even considered leaving you like that. Guess I’m just hopelessly built this way.”

Even then, Eunmyeong flicked a glance at Mujin’s wave. Damn fate. Perhaps there was no profession more suited to him than being a guide.

“So stop being angry. I’m annoyed too.”

“How could I not be angry?”

“I don’t want to live like this either. If I were going to be awful, I should’ve been truly awful—but instead I’m stuck with this half-rotten personality.”

Muttering to himself, Eunmyeong buried his face back into Mujin’s chest. Mujin looked down at him and let out a low sigh.

Then Mujin gathered his internal energy with one hand. The wave that had been settling suddenly expanded, and realizing what he was about to do, Eunmyeong screamed.

“Don’t!”

Before he could stop him, a massive surge of internal energy exploded from Mujin’s palm. As if blown by a god’s breath, the poison fog was blasted skyward.

Light flooded the area. Those struggling to push back the fog called out the two names as they rushed over.

“Young Master!”

“Eunmyeong, are you all right?!”

Their concern no longer reached Eunmyeong. Staring at the wave twisting into something even more dangerous, his body trembled.

You damn idiot—how could you undo emergency treatment in one move?!

Eunmyeong stared at Mujin in disbelief.

“W-what do you think you’re doing?!”

“Didn’t you say to deal with what’s urgent first? That’s your rule.”

Mujin’s lips curled into a crooked, villain-like smile.

“This was urgent to me.”

His gaze dropped—to Eunmyeong’s sleeve.

“This hurts more.”

Before the words fully fell, Mujin’s body collapsed.

Still holding him, Eunmyeong hurriedly caught Mujin in both arms, cradling his head against his chest.

“Young Master!”

“….”

“Young Master! Can you hear me?!”

“Tang Mujin! You can’t pass out now!”

The effectiveness of guiding differed greatly depending on whether the recipient was conscious—especially in a crisis like this.

Mujin’s eyes fluttered open and shut slowly, as though he might faint at any moment.

This is bad—this is really bad.

Eunmyeong looked down desperately, but in the middle of the training grounds, with everyone watching, he couldn’t very well strip and press their lower bodies together.

Damn it.

Gritting his teeth, Eunmyeong made his choice. Pride be damned—either he pressed their lower halves together, or he—

At least this is better than going naked!

Wrapping his arms around Mujin’s neck, Eunmyeong twisted his head and pressed their lips together.

It was the second time in one day their lips had met.

A red tongue slipped between parted lips. As Eunmyeong gently brushed the roof of Mujin’s mouth and poured in energy, Mujin’s body absorbed it rapidly, like drinking a draught of life.

“Mmm—ngh….”

Seeing the effect, Mujin’s tongue began to move in response.

Lewd sounds leaked between their lips. Lower lips were bitten again and again, saliva mingling. The deeper the kiss grew, the more Mujin stirred.

Now properly seated, Mujin supported the back of Eunmyeong’s head and thrust his tongue deeper inside.

It still wasn’t enough. No matter how much they entwined tongues, he wanted to sink deeper into that warmth. Eunmyeong’s occasional, breathless moans only spurred him on.

Continuing the kiss with Eunmyeong straddling his lap, Mujin finally stopped when hands struck his back. He nipped Eunmyeong’s lower lip regretfully before pulling away.

“…Haa….”

Eunmyeong, barely managing to separate their lips, looked down at the scene before him. Mujin’s broad chest rose and fell with each heated breath, sweat tracing lines down his skin.

Realizing that they had kissed like that—again—Eunmyeong’s face flushed.

Wait.

Something felt off.

Where exactly are we right now?

Replaying the moments before the poison fog, Eunmyeong slowly turned his head.

notes

1. Mancheonhwau (滿天花雨): A supreme Tang Clan throwing-weapon technique in which countless concealed weapons fall like a rain of blossoms. Mastery of this art is traditionally required to become Clan Head.