Guide of the Sichuan Tang Clan C41

Chapter 41

At the cold voice, Mujin’s hand twitched in midair. He wanted—desperately—to grab Eunmyeong right away and explain that he hadn’t meant it like that, that those words hadn’t come from his true feelings.

But this was still Cheongwoo’s residence. The attendants scattered everywhere were Cheongwoo’s living eyes and ears; it was far too early to speak honestly.

I can’t ruin things yet.

Mujin recalled Cheongwoo’s snake-like eyes. Like a serpent slowly coiling around its prey so it wouldn’t notice, Cheongwoo wore a genial smile while greedily raking everything with his gaze. Mujin knew that look well.

Cheongwoo had been that kind of person from birth. Once something caught his interest, he wouldn’t be satisfied until it became his. His temperament was obsessive and relentless to that degree.

If Mujin hadn’t presented a justification first, Cheongwoo would have found a way to take Eunmyeong from him. That was precisely why Mujin had emphasized—again and again—that he had no feelings, assured him that this was purely for treatment.

Mujin clenched his fist tightly. Veins bulged across the back of his hand. There weren’t many words he could afford to say in Cheongwoo’s space.

“For now… let’s go back to our quarters. Once we’re back—”

“No.”

He didn’t want to hear any more. No matter what excuses he listened to, he would only waver again. Rubbing his face roughly, Eunmyeong stepped away from Mujin.

Eunmyeong—

The way Mujin called his name sounded painfully earnest.

It’s just my imagination.

Get a grip, Tang Eunmyeong.

Afraid his voice would tremble, he took a deep breath. After steadying himself, Eunmyeong faced Mujin again, about to draw a firm line one more time.

“Enough.”

“……”

“You don’t need to say more.”

Mujin ran a rough hand through his hair and turned his head away first.

“Go to the elder’s residence tonight.”

“……”

“We’ll talk again tomorrow.”

After hesitating briefly, Mujin brushed past Eunmyeong. Eunmyeong listened to his footsteps fade before finally lifting his head.

He looked around, but Mujin was nowhere to be seen. When even the green hem of his robe and his long black hair were gone from sight, a curse slipped out of Eunmyeong’s mouth.

“Coward.”

If you were going to be cruel, then be cruel to the end—why be needlessly gentle at times like this? He brushed at the sleeve Mujin’s hand had touched, for no real reason.

Whether sincere or not, Mujin’s words weren’t entirely wrong. If guiding was done more swiftly whenever the fluctuations surged, it would be far more efficient.

And more intimate guiding would be possible, too.

Holding hands, embracing, even kissing—those were things new lovers could do without raising eyebrows. If they played at being lovers, there’d be no need to explain themselves to anyone else.

Treatment. Just focus on treatment. Strip away all personal feelings and think only about the retirement plan.

Having finally stopped crying, Eunmyeong looked toward the Sichuan Great Mountains. Someone essential to that retirement plan was trapped within those peaks.

It was a good chance to climb the mountain. Today, no one would come looking for him.

From today on, I’ll definitely need to do guiding.

With his gaze lingering on one side of the mountains, Eunmyeong soon turned and began to walk.

The path was easier than the first time.

Following the marks he’d left before, he soon reached familiar ground. Once he passed that stone path, there would be the cave.

“Huff… I never even hiked like this before dying, huff.”

Even back then, Eunmyeong had always dodged it with excuses whenever the newly appointed center director suggested hiking. What kind of tiny country had so many mountains anyway? And the director never seemed to get tired of recommending them.

“If we’re going to come back down anyway, why climb up at all?!”

If you’re going to come down, then don’t go up in the first place—that was Eunmyeong’s personal motto. Don’t covet what you can’t have. Live within your means.

He wasn’t shaken—or so he thought. Yet when Mujin’s face suddenly surfaced in his mind again, a sigh escaped him.

There had been a time when he thought dating an Esper was possible. Back when he knew nothing, when he was simply happy about awakening as an S-rank Guide.

Bathed in their affection, Eunmyeong soon realized the truth: an Esper’s affection was indistinguishable from instinct.

In other words, he could never tell whether their feelings were desire for a Guide—or love for Eunmyeong himself.

The Espers he’d met all protested that it didn’t matter. But to him, it mattered deeply.

Was it really so hard to want to be loved as a ‘person,’ not as a Guide?

He’d only been indulging in a brief dream. This place was no different. And in a world without Espers or Guides, a romance between men would hardly be welcomed. So of course Mujin would step back.

“Still… that’s cowardly.”

Then he shouldn’t have spoken so gently in the first place. When the memory of Mujin’s pained expression resurfaced, Eunmyeong shook his head.

“It’s just my imagination. Why would he be the one in pain?”

If anyone was hurting, it was him.

Lost in thought, Eunmyeong soon found himself before the academy’s cave. He approached the pile of rocks, unchanged from before.

Clenching his fist, he slowly knocked on the stones.

“Um… hello?”

Careful not to dirty his clothes—having been warned about the stench last time—Eunmyeong had come all this way. Glancing down at his collar, he continued.

“Is anyone in there…?”

“Who goes there?”

A low voice echoed out. Unlike before, the tone was polite and gentle.

“Are you perhaps the Tang Clan’s Young Master…?”

“Well… no.”

Did I come to the wrong cave? Or is hiding people in Sichuan mountain caves some kind of trend now? He craned his neck and looked around. From the leaf-covered mound where rabbits played to the straight trees encircling the cave—no matter how he looked at it, this was definitely the cave he’d spat at and run from.

“Then may I ask who you are, honored sir? I know it is rude to ask without meeting you, but given the circumstances, I ask for your understanding.”

The baritone voice resonated through the cave. It was pleasant to hear, like a low-pitched instrument, and Eunmyeong answered with admiration.

“No, no, it’s fine.”

“Then…?”

“Ah—Tang Clan physician. Tang Eunmyeong.”

Even as he introduced himself, Eunmyeong observed the fluctuations deeper in the cave—Seowon’s energy. The tangled state was the same, but the swelling that looked ready to explode at any moment had calmed somewhat.

How was this possible?

It was common knowledge that once fluctuations reached a certain point, no Guide could stop them. Once that threshold was crossed, an Esper would lose both reason and bodily control, unleash their power, and explode.

And yet the man inside possessed a body on the brink of detonation while maintaining a fair degree of sanity. Looking closer, Eunmyeong saw ring-like structures throughout his body, as though suppressing the explosions.

He was regulating it himself.

That makes no sense.

It was beyond common sense. When Eunmyeong stepped closer, a stone rolled down. Sensing the movement, Seowon asked,

“For what reason has the Tang Clan physician come all this way…?”

Eunmyeong stared at the fluctuations visible beyond the stones. They were unmistakably different from before.

If this is really possible… I could save so many more people.

Images of Espers who had died from runaway fluctuations flashed before his eyes—among them, a child who’d followed Eunmyeong especially well, and an Esper who had begged him to stay by his side.

There were now even more reasons to save Seowon. If Seowon could teach how to retain one’s sanity—and if Eunmyeong could assist—then countless lives could be saved.

Biting his lip, Eunmyeong realized it would be a long day.

“Physician…?”

“Ah, you asked why I came.”

“Yes.”

Compared to his previous mockery about foul smells, his current tone was unfailingly polite.

“You really don’t remember?”

“What do you mean…? Have we met before?”

“Yes. Two days ago.”

“…Pardon?”

It had been only two days. Since he’d kissed Mujin. Since he’d climbed the Sichuan Great Mountains and met Seowon.

Come to think of it, Mujin sure changed his words fast.

Clicking his tongue at the nonsense Mujin had spouted, Eunmyeong continued,

“When I saw you two days ago, you definitely weren’t like this. Compared to now, you were more…”

Seowon seemed like a completely different person, and Eunmyeong hesitated to say it outright. As his words trailed off, a deep sigh leaked from inside the cave.

“Ha… It seems I have committed another discourtesy. I don’t know how I might repay this.”

Restless footsteps followed, as if he were pacing in place nearby.

Yes. This was the kind of person he was.

In the original story, Seowon had been gentle—treating his disciples without distance and unable to kill even a crawling insect.

Eunmyeong remembered being impressed by the scenes where Seowon helped villagers at his own expense.

More famous than even that, though, had been his face.

“It’s fine. I committed the same discourtesy myself.”

“What discourtesy…?”

“Well… um… I spoke a bit informally to a sword master.”

What I actually did was something else.

Unable to admit that he’d spat, Eunmyeong glossed it over.