Guide of the Sichuan Tang Clan C2

Chapter 2

I am Choi Eunmyeong. And when a fight comes walking toward me—I don’t back down.

Clenching his fists tight, Eunmyeong glared at the man before him. His eyes flicked down to the man’s forearms—thick as wooden clubs, blue veins bulging across the skin.

If that hits me, at the very least, I’ll end up with ruptured organs.

Quietly, Eunmyeong moved both hands behind his back.

The man, watching the motion, let out a disbelieving snort. His thunderous voice crashed down on Eunmyeong like a blow.

“You wretched brat, Tang Eunmyeong—!”

Tang Eunmyeong?

Eunmyeong blinked, momentarily thrown off by the sudden change of surname. But before he could question it, the man exhaled sharply and brought a fist down toward his head.

“Didn’t I tell you to come running the moment I called for you, huh? What are you lazing around for at a time like this!?”

The man ground his knuckles mercilessly against Eunmyeong’s temple.

“Agh—Aagh!”

Eunmyeong’s scream echoed as pain shot through his skull.

“Still not coming out? Not even now?”

When Eunmyeong refused to emerge from beneath the blanket, the man looped a thick arm around his neck, dragging him out like a teacher disciplining a lazy student.

“You little punk, always slacking off!”

With a series of dull thuds, the man flicked his knuckles against Eunmyeong’s head before seizing him by the collar and hauling him down the corridor.

“W–Where are we going!?”

“Where? Where do you think we’re going, you fool!”

The man glared down at him, his face red with fury. The veins in his arms pulsed even harder, and Eunmyeong snapped his mouth shut with a gulp. Another hit might actually kill him.

He still had no idea what was going on—dying again now would be absurd. Swallowing his pride, he steadied his voice and tried a more submissive tone.

“I’m sorry, sir, but… I really don’t remember anything.”

“Of course you don’t remember! You slept half the day away! Your father’s so embarrassed he can’t even attend the elders’ meeting!”

“M–My father?”

“How dare you call your father just ‘father,’ you impudent brat!”

He had called him that because the man had said “your father”… yet injustice meant little before a raised fist. Seeing the man raise his hand again, Eunmyeong blurted quickly—

“F–Father!”

“That’s more like it.”

At last, the man’s tone softened slightly, apparently satisfied.

“Didn’t I tell you clearly?”

“T–Tell me what?”

By then, they had reached the end of the corridor. From beyond the dark hallway, light seeped through, and Eunmyeong blinked as the man’s low, commanding voice rolled like a narrator’s.

“That there would be many patients today—so be prepared!”

Outside, the scene stretched before them: people lying all over the floor, their energies tangled and chaotic. Every single one of them radiated unstable waves, just like Espers on the verge of rampage.

“Son of a bitch.”

So this was it. A field full of rampaging Espers.

The very first training Eunmyeong received after awakening as a Guide was how to sense energy waves.

Inside a Gate, the most unstable Esper had to be guided first—that was the rule.

Back then, he hadn’t even escaped puberty. Touching a stranger’s hand, especially an attractive Esper’s, had been nerve-racking beyond belief.

He still remembered that first training session vividly. Trembling, he had reached out to hold the Esper’s hand. The man had smiled gently, brushing his thumb over the back of Eunmyeong’s hand.

“Relax. You don’t have to be so tense.”

“Y–Yes…”

When the Esper chuckled softly, his voice deep and smooth, Eunmyeong’s face had burned red. The man laughed outright then, as if the boy’s embarrassment amused him.

“Are you shy?”

“…”

“You’ll have to do far more intimate things later, you know?”

Now, Eunmyeong would have snapped back without hesitation, but back then he’d been naive—a trembling little fool, eyes downcast, trying to avoid meeting the Esper’s gaze. Instead, he’d nervously turned toward a nearby researcher.

“Um, excuse me.”

The researcher, who had been staring at his monitor, turned around in surprise.

“D–Do I only need to practice energy sensing? I–I don’t have to do physical training like the Espers, right?”

“Why would a Guide need physical training?”

Before the researcher could reply, the Esper interjected, entwining their fingers together more tightly.

“We’ll protect you anyway.”

Why that simple line had made his heart skip, he’d never know. In the end, he and that Esper had become lovers during their training sessions. Of course, it hadn’t lasted long—his partner turned out to be a notorious flirt.

So much for protection. That same Esper’s rampage had ended up killing him under a collapsing building.

All that Esper had left him with were sweet lies and training memories.

And now, somehow possessed into what looked suspiciously like a martial arts novel, Eunmyeong could see energy waves with his own eyes.

“Great. A damn minefield.”

Everywhere he looked, waves flared and pulsed, threatening to explode. Each patient wore robes of green and groaned in pain. Judging from the swords at their waists and their martial attire, they were warriors.

People in this world weren’t supposed to have energy waves—yet they did. Perhaps this was what they called internal energy.

So Espers existed even in martial arts novels…?

While he gawked in disbelief, the patients’ bodies convulsed as the waves within them grew more violent.

“What are you doing, standing there? Go and tend to them!”

His so-called father rolled up his sleeves and rushed into the fray, opening a pouch filled with silver needles. In a swift motion, he began inserting them into the patients’ bodies.

Oh?

As the needles pierced their pressure points, the violent waves began to subside. The more acupuncture points he stimulated, the calmer the energy grew—like unblocking a dammed stream.

It’s working, but not as effectively as guiding. And there aren’t nearly enough healers…

At this rate, half of them would die before treatment was complete. Time was slipping away.

“You useless brat! Tang Eunmyeong! Get over here this instant!”

His father shouted, frustrated that Eunmyeong was only standing there. Then he flung a bag of needles at him.

“What are you waiting for! Get to work!”

Catching the bag reflexively, Eunmyeong clutched his head. He’d never even touched a needle before, let alone used one!

But his father’s glare was no less terrifying than the situation itself.

Ha… what a cursed fate.

In novels, people who got possessed suddenly gained martial skills or supernatural powers, or seduced men left and right. Yet here he was—still stuck as a healer.

Guide, healer, physician—hell, it’s all the same. Just another support role.

Grumbling under his breath, Eunmyeong nevertheless focused his sharp gaze on the patients. Even if he wasn’t a saint, he still wanted to save them.

Among the groaning figures, one man immediately caught his attention. He was sitting upright against a wooden beam, and even at a glance, Eunmyeong could tell—his energy was different.

His wave shimmered blue, longer and wider than the others. Clearly, an extraordinary talent.

Which means he’s also at greater risk of losing control.

Without hesitation, Eunmyeong grabbed the bag and rushed toward him. Even though his condition was critical, the man sat silently, watching others receive treatment.

Stubborn bastard, Eunmyeong thought. Most would’ve fainted by now, yet this one endured quietly. Sitting beside him, Eunmyeong called out,

“Hey. Can you hear me?”

The man turned his head slowly, and for a moment, Eunmyeong forgot to breathe.

Wow.

The face before him was breathtaking. Long lashes framed sharp eyes, and beneath them lay a perfectly sculpted nose and graceful lips. His refined features looked as though they’d been painted in ink on silk—like a beauty from an old scroll.

Weighed down by exhaustion, the man lowered his head slightly, and dark hair fell like silk over his forehead. The sight was so striking that Eunmyeong’s heart skipped a beat.

But this was no time to be dazzled. Snapping back to himself, he opened the bag and pretended to pull out a needle.

“I said, can you hear me?”

“…Leave.”

“What?”

He frowned, glancing up at the man. Even while breathing raggedly, the man repeated himself.

“Leave.”

“You’re telling me to go—when you look like this?”

Was he insane? Eunmyeong stared at the man’s chest. Beneath the green silk robe, violent waves surged, threatening to burst free.

Scowling, Eunmyeong jabbed a finger against the man’s chest.

“You can feel this chaos, can’t you?”

“…”

The man averted his gaze, his expression tight. Oh, so he did know.

Annoyance flared. Eunmyeong jabbed him again—twice this time. The man’s chest moved with each poke.

“If you stay like this, you’ll die, you know that? You’ll die!”

“If you have time to worry about me, help the others first. I can wait—”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.”

Eunmyeong hurled the needle he’d been holding. It clattered across the floor.

Someone behind him shrieked—probably his “father”—but he ignored it completely.

The only thing that mattered now was the patient before him.

“There is no later. Once you’re dead, that’s it.”

“Now, wait—”

“What, you think you’re some kind of god? Telling me to save others first? Everyone’s own wounds hurt the most, and everyone bleeds the same.”

The man’s brow furrowed slightly, his expression twisting in disdain. Such crude language…

Eunmyeong rolled his eyes.

“Ugh, whatever. Just give me your hand.”

“What?”

“Your hand! Don’t you understand what that is?”

Good grief—how did someone this dense survive battle? Exasperated, Eunmyeong straddled the man’s legs.

The warrior’s eyes widened in shock.

“W–What are you—!”

“Quiet! This is treatment!”

Cutting him off, Eunmyeong seized both his hands. Closing his eyes, he exhaled deeply.

From the tips of his fingers, energy began to flow. As it traveled through the man’s palms, the warrior froze, his entire body trembling.

What is… this…?

The unfamiliar sensation washed over him—warm, powerful, alive—and his expression turned to astonishment.