Guide of the Sichuan Tang Clan C33

Chapter 33

Eunmyeong and Mujin both stood rooted to the spot, unable to take a single step. They simply faced each other in silence, as though peering directly into one another’s hearts.

Only after a long while did Eunmyeong turn away first. Hoping his voice wouldn’t tremble, he finally spoke.

“Um… I’ll sleep with my father tonight.”

There was no reply.

Eunmyeong hesitated, wondering whether to add an excuse, then started walking. Rather than forcing more words, it felt better to just get out of here. The haze of alcohol had long since faded. Leaving Mujin behind, Eunmyeong hurried forward.

That was when Mujin called out from behind him.

“…That’s the wrong way.”

Damn it.

Eunmyeong cursed inwardly.

Mujin wasn’t drunk—but Eunmyeong was. And yet, somehow, Eunmyeong was the one who’d ended up being granted permission to stay out overnight, just as planned. Given Mujin’s current state, there was no way he’d follow him all the way home. It was the perfect opportunity.

Staggering into the bathhouse, Eunmyeong dumped a bucket of cold water over himself. The icy shock soaked his face, chilling him to the bone, and only then did his head finally clear. As his scattered thoughts returned, memories resurfaced one by one.

“—!”

Eunmyeong clapped both hands over his mouth and rushed out of the bathhouse.

Kissing two men in one night.

Even back at the Center, he hadn’t lived like such a libertine. Why was it that the moment he got transmigrated into a martial arts novel, he turned into this kind of mess? Mujin’s face flashed through his mind, and Eunmyeong grabbed at his own hair.

“I’ve lost my mind. I really have. Tang Eunmyeong.”

He’d said he was gathering party members to survive the Demonic Cult War—who said anything about collecting romantic interests?! With the alcohol completely gone, all that remained was regret.

“Why did those damn pecs have to stimulate my pecs, of all things….”

Muttering to himself, Eunmyeong shook his head. What was done was done. You couldn’t put spilled water back into the cup.

By the time he realized it, he had reached the entrance to the Great Mountains of Sichuan. Steeling his resolve, Eunmyeong spoke aloud.

“Right. I’ll think about that later. I’ve got things to do first.”

A faint trace of medicinal herbs—those he had hidden along with Mujin—lingered in the air. Mixed with the night breeze and the scent of the forest, it would have been hard to distinguish for most people, but Eunmyeong, who handled herbs daily, could tell.

The problem was that he didn’t know how far up the mountain he needed to go.

“I should be able to find it before morning… right?”

Gazing up at the majestic ridgeline befitting the name “Great Mountain,” Eunmyeong let out a sigh. If he wanted to survive, he had to go. There was no one better than the Maehwa Sword Master.

And with that, Eunmyeong disappeared into the forest.

His resolve to find the cave before dawn quickly crumbled.

“Just kill me. Please. Just kill me already.”

Panting heavily, Eunmyeong collapsed flat onto the ground. Even well-maintained hiking trails were exhausting—trying to climb a rugged mountain path like this was pure hell.

Large rocks constantly snagged his feet, and every sudden drop nearly twisted his ankles. Without even looking, he knew his trousers must be a complete mess.

“I won’t get another chance like this….”

Luck had allowed him to track Mujin by scenting himself with medicinal herbs—but that wouldn’t happen again. If he wanted the plan to work, he had to find the cave where Seowon was sealed, tonight.

Ugh, my head hurts.

Eunmyeong pressed a hand to his forehead—

—and heard a rustle.

Leaves brushed together nearby. Turning his head, he saw red eyes glowing in the darkness.

“A rabbit?”

Upright ears came into view. Twitching its ears, the rabbit hopped around as if enjoying the sound of rustling leaves. Then, with its short legs, it began digging at the ground with its hind feet.

Leaves scattered aside, revealing a stone wall beneath.

Stones of all sizes were piled together. The sheer amount made it look as if someone had deliberately stacked them there. Eunmyeong pushed himself upright.

“Huh. Don’t tell me…?”

Things couldn’t possibly be going this smoothly, right?

Like the rabbit kicking dirt aside, Eunmyeong hastily cleared away the leaves. Beneath them lay the entrance to a cave, hidden under the foliage.

The opening was completely blocked by stones. The arched top was distorted, as though someone had deliberately collapsed the ceiling to seal it shut.

Probably Mujin.

Recalling a story he’d once heard in passing, Eunmyeong stepped closer. He placed a hand on the pile of stones and focused.

Far away—he felt a single pulse.

It was stronger than anything he’d sensed when he first met Mujin. This wasn’t just tangled like yarn. This was—

“…A bomb.”

And a half-detonated one at that. As if the tangled mess weren’t bad enough, the pulse surged through the body with every heartbeat, spreading violently. Faster. Thicker. Stronger than normal.

Eunmyeong stared in horror at the abnormal shape.

How is he even alive?

It was a miracle that he was. Eunmyeong had never seen qi deviation in this world, but if it resembled an Esper’s rampage—even staying sane would be nearly impossible.

And it’s not like I can just dig this out by hand.

As Eunmyeong clicked his tongue, pushing futilely at the layered stones—

—the flow of the pulse suddenly reversed.

The stones sealing the entrance began to tremble violently. The shaking felt like an earthquake, and Eunmyeong hurriedly crouched down.

The rabbit fled. Leaves scattered.

Only Eunmyeong remained.

A memory of being crushed beneath a collapsing building flashed through his mind, squeezing the air from his lungs.

Then—

A voice echoed from inside the cave.

“Who goes there?”

…Wait. Weren’t you supposed to be gentle and kind?

Eunmyeong muttered under his breath.

Seowon.

Second disciple of the Hwasan Sect, renowned for his chivalrous heart—unable to ignore the weak—and beloved by fellow disciples for his gentle personality. He possessed martial skill impressive enough to make people whisper that he might be the author’s favorite character.

When even he fell into qi deviation, the comment section exploded.

Why is that bastard suffering qi deviation when he’s not even from the Tang Clan? If that’s the case, why is the title “Surviving in the Sichuan Tang Clan”? Shouldn’t it be “Surviving the Author”?

Amid the backlash, Seowon died quickly.

And now, Eunmyeong stood between that qi deviation and that death.

“To dare seek this place… you’ve got some nerve.”

A voice tinged with a wet, unpleasant chuckle drifted out. It was nothing like how Seowon had been described in the novel.

It sounded languid—yet exhausted. Perhaps because of the low register, or the echo of the cave, every word seemed to make Eunmyeong’s heart vibrate in response.

“Or do the Tang Clan dogs have multiple lives?”

Eunmyeong swallowed hard.

This pressure was different from Mujin or Cheong-u. With them, there had been dignity and weight. From Seowon, there was only killing intent.

It’s hard to breathe.

He wanted to turn around and flee down the mountain—but he couldn’t. He had to save that walking bomb. Pressing a hand to his chest, Eunmyeong stepped closer to the cave.

Focusing, he saw Seowon’s pulse clearly.

…Oh, damn.

It was worse than he’d thought.

This is already a full rampage.

It was nearly identical to the rampaging Espers he’d seen at the Center. The pulse writhed violently in his chest, as though it might burst out at any moment. Every pathway in his body had long since expanded to endure it.

At this rate, his body would explode sooner rather than later.

Anxiety etched on his face, Eunmyeong spoke.

“How are you… even holding on?”

From Hwasan to here would’ve taken weeks—and he’d been sealed in this cave for weeks more. By all logic, he should have exploded long ago.

“Are you asking why I’m still alive?”

“Well… you know better than anyone that this body shouldn’t be able to live.”

“So you can see it, then. Does the Tang Clan teach such petty tricks now?”

“This isn’t a petty—wait, how are you so sure I’m from the Tang Clan?”

Perhaps because the pulse had shocked him, Eunmyeong no longer felt as afraid as he had at first. Eyes widening, he shot back.

“I could be from Namgung. Or from the Southern Seas. Or just some ordinary villager—”

“Only Tang Clan dogs reek like this. Unless they’re corpses.”

Eunmyeong pressed his lips together and looked down at himself. Beneath his tattered robe were trousers smeared with dirt.

Tch.

Lifting his sleeve to his nose, he inhaled deeply.

“All I smell is dirt. What stench are you talking about?”

“Trash never knows it’s trash.”

“What did you say?!”

Eunmyeong bristled, glaring into the cave. The irritation finally boiled over. He exhaled slowly, forcing himself to think.

What if he isn’t Seowon at all?

The odds were slim—but maybe someone else had been sealed here by mistake. As he wondered where the real Seowon might be—

—the voice snapped him back.

“You don’t know how to hide your emotions. Definitely a child… and with that strong scent, you handle poison. Herbs too… a physician?”

“……”

“A physician, then. A Tang Clan physician. And what business brings you all the way here?”

In an instant, Eunmyeong’s identity was laid bare. His eyes shook—and the man didn’t miss it.

“Were you gathering herbs nearby? Or did you lose your way?”

“……”

“Or perhaps… hiding a lover?”

A short laugh echoed from within the cave. Eunmyeong frowned.

“Even if I were hiding a lover, it wouldn’t be you. So don’t worry.”

“How disappointing. I thought a celestial savior had come for me.”

His relentless sarcasm made Eunmyeong place a hand on the stone pile again. This couldn’t be the Seowon he’d read about. The longer they talked, the more convinced he became.

“…Are you really Seowon?”

Silence.

No breathing. No voice.

It was as if time itself had stopped.

The air grew heavy, pressing down on him—and Eunmyeong instantly knew he had touched a reverse scale he shouldn’t have.