Guide of the Sichuan Tang Clan C27

Chapter 27

Clutching his throbbing foot, Goju tried to make sense of what had just happened. No matter how much he thought about it, he could not understand why Namya had acted that way. All that had occurred was that Namya’s son had appeared uninvited; there had been seats, then suddenly there were none, and the child had ended up sitting on Cheongwoo’s lap. That was all.

And at some point, a dish of sweet confections had ended up in Eunmyeong’s hands—personally handed to him by Cheongwoo.

Handed to him… to eat?

Before Goju’s thoughts could wander any further, Cheongwoo spoke.

“Half a month. If the Young Clan Head cannot resolve it within half a month, then I will go myself.”

“H-Half a month, you say?”

“Yes. That makes things simple, does it not?”

With one arm wrapped around Eunmyeong, Cheongwoo leaned back, then abruptly tugged him closer by the waist. When something thick pressed against his backside, Eunmyeong’s eyes flew open.

This was insane.

There was no way there could be a third thigh, nor could muscle possibly swell and multiply on its own. Then what was this? He wanted to reach back and satisfy his curiosity, but if his suspicion proved correct, his head would ache just thinking about it.

Deciding to shift positions, Eunmyeong carefully slid his hips forward. He narrowed his legs and was just about to move—

Thump.

Whatever had been pressing against him moved.

At the same time that Eunmyeong slipped forward, Cheongwoo’s arm pulled him right back again.

“You may tell Mount Hua that we will sever his life within half a month.”

Cheongwoo spoke calmly, both arms now encircling Eunmyeong’s waist. Hearing that gentle voice so close behind him, Eunmyeong realized he was doomed.

Who is killing whom, exactly?!

Seo Won might die in half a month, but Eunmyeong felt as though he might die right now.

Until they left the pavilion, the elders could not shake their unease. Even as they descended the steps, Namya kept stopping to glance back.

It feels as though I’ve placed my son inside the jaws of a beast.

A sigh escaped him, yet he had no intention of turning back to retrieve his son.

If it were Cheongwoo, he wouldn’t bite him—he’d only toy with him on his tongue.

If Cheongwoo had truly intended to tear Eunmyeong apart, he would have done so already. He was not the sort to wait patiently. Recalling the image of Eunmyeong seated on Cheongwoo’s lap left Namya with a complicated expression.

Goju, walking beside him, spoke up.

“Stop looking back.”

“No… my feet won’t move.”

“What would you do even if you kept staring, hm? Go back in and threaten the Clan Head to hand over your son?”

“Do you have a death wish?”

At Goju’s words, Namya finally faced forward again and began striding off in the opposite direction, grumbling under his breath.

He could not save Eunmyeong. He had only one life, and that life did not belong to him.

My wife will scold me again.

If he was going to be scolded either way, it was better to choose the lesser scolding. Goju clicked his tongue as he hurried after Namya.

“He’s probably just taken a passing interest. Don’t worry too much.”

“Interest?”

Namya stopped short. A low chuckle escaped him as he turned to Goju, who flinched back.

“Interest, my ass.”

If it were mere curiosity, Namya would not be reacting this way. Cheongwoo had often shown interest in amusing things only to grow bored quickly.

But this time was different. Even his gaze was unlike before. That ominous glint that sometimes appeared when no one was watching sent a chill down Namya’s spine.

“Do you still not understand the Clan Head?”

“Well… it’s not the first time he’s taken interest in something. Though this is a person.”

“That’s beyond interest.”

Namya muttered, recalling the look in Cheongwoo’s eyes as he gazed at Eunmyeong.

“He’s genuinely excited.”

Perched atop the excited Cheongwoo’s lap, Namya’s son, Tang Eunmyeong, felt as though he were living through hell.

Please save me, Father.

He stared desperately at the closed door, but it did not open with Namya entering like a savior. Nor would Mujin return anytime soon, having already departed for the mountain.

Just as Eunmyeong let out a sigh, a large hand clamped around his waist.

“Ah!”

As lightly as lifting a bowl of sweets, Cheongwoo hoisted Eunmyeong up and flipped him upside down. Instinctively, Eunmyeong spread his legs to keep from falling.

It was an awkward position. Sitting face-to-face was already nerve-wracking enough, but the persistent movement below only made it worse. When Eunmyeong squirmed, Cheongwoo pressed firmly against his waist.

“I don’t recall telling you to move.”

What had been slowly growing made its presence known once more. When Eunmyeong glanced down with trembling eyes, the massive shape swelled further.

It was not humanly sized. It was still twitching, as though it had yet to fully harden.

Is this even possible?

He had not seen many, but none had ever been like this. Eunmyeong’s eyelids fluttered.

“I never told you to stare so brazenly either.”

At Cheongwoo’s words, Eunmyeong quickly lifted his gaze. Cheongwoo twisted his lips into a smirk as he watched him.

“If you came here to ask for a favor, you should know better than to behave so rudely.”

Struck right at the core, Eunmyeong met his eyes.

Cheongwoo had never harmed him, yet he was still an intimidating presence. Eunmyeong had never met an Esper of Cheongwoo’s age back at the Center. Most Espers had short lifespans due to rampages, and even those who survived often retired early.

Fortunately, Cheongwoo did not seem angry. Eunmyeong asked carefully,

“How did you know… that I came to ask for a favor?”

“If it weren’t for that, you would never come of your own accord. You’re far too indifferent.”

Cheongwoo’s arms wrapped around his waist once more. As their bodies drew closer, heat seeped through Eunmyeong’s clothes. Mujin’s body temperature had always been cool, but Cheongwoo’s was unbearably hot—fitting for Tang Cheongwoo.

“And yet you’ve never come even once.”

“I thought you might be busy…”

“Even if I were, would I not have time to see your face?”

Sitting on his lap meant Eunmyeong had to look down at him. Cheongwoo’s hand slowly rose to cup Eunmyeong’s face.

“You look worn.”

He clicked his tongue, recalling how plump Eunmyeong’s cheeks used to be. He looked paler now.

“Did the Young Clan Head starve you?”

“No, it’s just… I’ve been worrying a lot…”

“What worries?”

As expected, Cheongwoo pressed further. Eunmyeong swallowed.

And he said Seo Won would be dealt with in half a month—I absolutely need to get that alcohol today.

Half a month was nowhere near enough time, even if he started guiding Seo Won immediately. There was no time to hesitate. Steeling himself, Eunmyeong wrapped his arms around Cheongwoo’s shoulders.

Cheongwoo’s gaze darkened at the proactive gesture. Seeing the reaction he wanted, Eunmyeong spoke.

“I wanted… to get closer to the Young Master.”

“….”

“So I need some alcohol… but I didn’t know where else to get it.”

“And so you came to ask me?”

Eunmyeong nodded slightly. At the audacity of asking him for alcohol meant to be shared with another man, Cheongwoo let out a hollow laugh.

“That does not sound like a request meant for me.”

The arms around Eunmyeong loosened. Even the hand cupping his cheek withdrew, and Eunmyeong panicked.

I need that alcohol!

In his haste, he grabbed Cheongwoo’s arm with both hands.

Straining, Eunmyeong lifted the thick arm and wrapped it around his own waist. Fearing he might fall, he hooked his legs around Cheongwoo’s hips. When their lower bodies pressed together, Cheongwoo went rigid.

“You have to help me.”

“….”

“If not you, Clan Head, there’s no one else I can ask.”

Though clumsy, there was no stronger temptation than this. Letting out a deep breath, Cheongwoo pulled Eunmyeong close.

“So you want me to personally provide the alcohol you’ll drink with another man?”

“You’re going to give it to me anyway.”

“You’re troublesome.”

Cheongwoo buried his face against Eunmyeong’s chest, moving his lips as though sulking.

“Where did a creature like you even come from?”

“From the Tang Clan, obviously.”

“What a ridiculous clan.”

As he spoke, Cheongwoo almost reflexively raised a hand to pat Eunmyeong’s head, then stopped. Usually, the only one who clung to him like this was Yuseong.

Noticing Eunmyeong’s hand frozen midair, Cheongwoo gently pulled it down. Eunmyeong’s palm rested against Cheongwoo’s forehead—a silent permission. After a brief hesitation, Eunmyeong stroked his hair the way he did with Yuseong.

Cheongwoo, quietly accepting the touch, finally spoke.

“So.”

He looked up at Eunmyeong. Meeting those pitch-black, abyssal eyes, Eunmyeong’s hand stilled.

“What will you give me in return?”

The unexpected question left Eunmyeong speechless. The Tang Clan had an abundance of alcohol; he had assumed it would be easy to obtain.

Compensation?

Eunmyeong’s eyes darted about.

“I… I didn’t think that far…”

“Then don’t think about it at all.”

Cheongwoo’s eyes curved into a bright smile—so curved that his pupils nearly disappeared. Eunmyeong grew uneasy.

“I’ll collect it myself.”

In that instant, something soft brushed against Eunmyeong’s lips.