Guide of the Sichuan Tang Clan C30

Chapter 30

At the unfamiliar scent, Eunmyeong’s eyes flew wide open.

Is this really alcohol?

Isn’t this poison?

Even inhaling it made his stomach feel raw. After the bitter sting faded, a faint fragrance followed—like wildflowers. The curiosity came only after, a bouquet steeped deep and long.

Before coming here, Eunmyeong had been someone who rather enjoyed drinking. He wasn’t the type to attend every company dinner or stamp his passport at every bar, but he was the sort who would turn on a drama at night and travel the world with a beer in hand.

He had been one of the heavier drinkers at the Center, but he had no idea what Tang Clan liquor would be like. Eunmyeong glanced sideways at Sowoon.

“Is it… strong?”

“This? It’s water—just water. No one in the Tang Clan can’t handle something like this.”

Sowoon burst into laughter at Eunmyeong’s caution and tightened his hand over Eunmyeong’s.

“Even if it were strong, it’s just one cup. What could happen?”

“Well…”

“What could one cup do?”

At Sowoon’s words, Eunmyeong swallowed. Right—just one cup. If it was too much, he simply wouldn’t drink more.

It’s not like I pass out after a single drink.

Remembering how he used to stay until the very end of work dinners, Eunmyeong tipped the cup.

In that instant, the liquor flooded his mouth.

Startled, he gulped it down. It burned its way through his throat, slid down his esophagus, and dropped straight into his stomach. He could feel its path distinctly, and Eunmyeong clutched his neck.

“Cough—cough!”

It felt like he was burning alive. The place the liquor passed through throbbed painfully. This wasn’t drinking! Only then did he belatedly recall that nothing in the Tang Clan was ever “normal.” But the liquor was already gone.

“Hahaha! You drink well!”

Clueless, Sowoon slapped Eunmyeong hard on the back. Urk! The blow nearly forced a scream out of him, but his voice wouldn’t cooperate.

A fierce heat spread from his throat through his entire body. In moments, Eunmyeong’s cheeks flushed red. As he continued coughing, Yujo rose from across the table.

“Are you sure you’re okay? Hey—say something!”

“Ha, I told you he’s fine! Eunmyeong can handle this much.”

“How would you know that! Stop hitting him—hey!”

It was right as he cleared his throat.

The world suddenly flipped upside down, and his vision went dark.

“E—Eunmyeong!”

Thud.

His head struck the table. Only in the instant before his consciousness fully slipped away did Eunmyeong realize something crucial.

This isn’t my body.

He should have realized sooner.

With that, Eunmyeong’s reason vanished completely.

The drinking continued even as Eunmyeong slept. Raucous noise filled the dining hall, and the scent of strong liquor drifted everywhere.

True to Tang Clan bloodlines accustomed to poison, the only one collapsed was Eunmyeong. After he went down, Yujo, Sowoon, and Jeongho stayed seated the entire time. Normally, they would have moved around once things grew dull, but tonight they couldn’t leave Eunmyeong’s side.

Too many eyes were circling.

Why do they keep gathering here?

As Yujo poured another drink for Sowoon, he scanned the area. As the night wore on, one by one the martial artists had begun drifting toward Eunmyeong’s table. It was an esper’s instinct—to stay close to a guide.

Perched on floors, tables, and chairs alike, the martial artists drank while sneaking glances at Eunmyeong. The scene looked like mother birds guarding a chick. Yujo clicked his tongue.

“There’s no space—why the hell are you all cramming yourselves here to drink?”

“Guess the booze tastes better here.”

“It’s the same liquor, the same food. And yet you choose this cramped corner…”

At Yujo’s complaints, Sowoon laughed heartily and raised his cup.

“If you hate it so much, why don’t you move?”

Yujo scowled. He cursed them, yet understood them too. He didn’t want to leave either.

What was it about that small thing? Ever since Eunmyeong appeared at the training grounds, strange things kept happening. His own unsettled heart was one of them.

Draining his cup, Yujo stared at the neat crown of Eunmyeong’s head.

“Wouldn’t it be better to take him back to his quarters?”

“Him? Eunmyeong?”

“Yes. He looks like he’s not even breathing.”

Their gazes settled on the back of Eunmyeong’s head. Amid the clamor, he hadn’t moved an inch. At this rate, someone could pour liquor over him and he still wouldn’t wake.

Resting his chin in his hand, Sowoon studied Eunmyeong. Curled up with his head bowed, he looked like a squirrel. Hm. Letting out a low hum, Sowoon stroked his chin.

“But… do we even know where that kid lives?”

“What? Isn’t it Elder Namya’s residence?”

“From what the elder’s said, it doesn’t sound like they live together.”

Yujo froze, liquor bottle still in hand.

Then where had Eunmyeong been sleeping all this time?

The image of Eunmyeong constantly running after Mujin flashed through his mind. Come to think of it, Mujin’s quarters were in the opposite direction from Eunmyeong’s supposed home.

Yujo’s eyes widened.

“Th—there’s no way…”

With growing unease, Yujo examined Eunmyeong, then shook his shoulder.

“Eunmyeong. Wake up.”

Like a corpse, Eunmyeong didn’t respond. Though he had pursued medicine, he seemed to have no muscle to speak of; his body swayed limply with every shake.

Is he made of rice cake or something?

After shaking him for a while with no success, Yujo finally pinched Eunmyeong’s cheek.

“Wake up. We need to get you home.”

“Mm…”

A soft sound finally slipped between Eunmyeong’s lips.

The noisy table fell silent. All eyes fixed on him.

Slowly, Eunmyeong lifted his head. The alcohol had flushed his pale face red—color lingering only around his eyes and cheeks, giving him an oddly languid air.

When he propped his chin on one hand, the hair tied back slipped to the left, exposing the slender line of his neck. Feeling the gaze trail down from his face, Eunmyeong tapped the table with his fingertips.

“Therrre’s… sooo many people…”

“….”

“Riiight, riiight. You gotta gather a lot to wiiin.”

Muttering to himself, Eunmyeong finally met Yujo’s eyes.

“Riiight?”

As if seeking agreement, his eyes curved into crescents. His cheeks puffed slightly, deep dimples forming at the corners of his mouth. At that clear, innocent smile, Yujo forgot every courtesan he had ever met.

It was bright and pure, utterly free of intent—yet paradoxically all the more tempting. Even Yujo and the others were thrown off by feelings that had no business existing.

Watching them, Eunmyeong wriggled his fingers, then reached across and tugged Yujo’s hand toward him.

“If you wanna win, you gotta needle diligently.”

From his pocket, Eunmyeong produced an acupuncture needle and set it on the table. Then, still holding Yujo’s hand, he blew gently on it.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m blowing on it so it won’t hurt.”

The firm grip holding him still made Yujo laugh incredulously. He’d seen all kinds of drunken behavior, but this was a first—so utterly harmless.

And the wariness Eunmyeong usually carried was gone. Leaning in close, nearly brushing lips, Yujo teased,

“No plans to make it painless when you stick the needle?”

“Mmm… can’t… my skill’s not there yet…”

“Then can you needle someone while drunk or not?”

“I can…”

The certainty in that slurred answer made Yujo snort.

“Even drunk, you’re stubborn. Drunk beautifully, too.”

Apparently pleased by the bulging vein, Eunmyeong smiled. He deftly picked up the needle.

Tap.

Pretending to press it in, Eunmyeong giggled. Finding him adorable, Yujo let him continue, extending his arm.

“Hey—that hurts. You didn’t mess up, did you?”

“Nuh-uh… I did it gently…”

With half-lidded eyes, Eunmyeong inspected the spot, then brought his lips close to Yujo’s arm and blew softly.

Each warm breath made the raised vein twitch. He hadn’t even been properly needled, yet something felt strange. Letting out a breath he’d been holding, Yujo leaned back.

Unaware, Eunmyeong kept blowing diligently.

“Take this… and… really, really train hard…”

“Hey…”

“Train hard… and then get better…”

Holding Yujo’s hands tightly, Eunmyeong looked up at him.

“And then… let me retire…”