Guide of the Sichuan Tang Clan C43

Chapter 43

The moment their hands touched, Seowon involuntarily sucked in a breath. A brilliant light seemed to flow through his entire body—warm and gentle, like sunlight.

Wherever that light passed, the rampaging body calmed, and the internal energy stabilized. Feeling the rapid changes within himself, he clutched the hand he was holding even more desperately.

If the most horrific memory of Seowon’s life had been red, then what he felt now was closer to a peaceful white, like being newly born into the world. Filled with rapture, Seowon let out a low exhale.

“Physician… this is—”

“It feels strange, doesn’t it?”

At those words, Seowon closed his lips. The energy that had forced its way into his body couldn’t be described as merely strange. It required something far more sacred, far more noble.

“I’m untangling the reversed internal energy, but it’ll probably take a long time.”

Focused on his fluctuations, Eunmyeong continued explaining. With their hands joined, Seowon’s condition appeared far more clearly than it had from afar.

“Judging by your state, it wouldn’t be surprising if you exploded at any moment. Honestly, it’s a miracle you’re alive.”

“……”

“The fact that you’ve maintained your sanity this long is a miracle.”

The word miracle lodged deeply in Seowon’s chest. After taking so many lives, could his survival really be called a miracle?

“I… don’t have the right to hear such a word.”

Even placing the word on his lips felt like a sin, so Seowon deliberately avoided it.

“I may already be mad.”

“Sword Master.”

“Didn’t you see it yourself, Physician? What I become when I lose my mind.”

“……”

“That is not a human being. Slaughtering senior brothers and disciples… how can something that rampages like a demon be called a person?”

A voice steeped in regret echoed through the cave. There were no tears in it, yet to Eunmyeong, it sounded like sobbing.

He recalled the story of Do Seowon from the novel. Famous not only for his exceptional martial prowess and character, he was even more renowned for his tragedy.

A sinner who killed the senior brothers and disciples he lived with, then fled. The only expelled disciple of the Mount Hua Sect.

He must have wanted to die.

Working as a Guide, Eunmyeong hadn’t lost only Espers. Fellow Guides he slept and ate with, researchers and staff at the center—he had witnessed countless deaths.

Some died entering gates alongside their assigned Espers, but most met their end due to Esper rampages.

So often, he would come into work to find empty desks. For years after awakening as a Guide, he couldn’t sleep properly, constantly fearing that someone might be dying even at that very moment. Even after coming here, any sound resembling an alarm made him bolt upright and run somewhere as if seized by a panic attack.

“I could have died hundreds of times, if death were possible.”

Seowon spoke of his own death calmly—a thought he’d revisited countless times since that day.

“If dying like that could have saved my senior brothers and disciples, I would have welcomed death gladly, even if my bones were crushed and my heart pierced.”

“Sword Master.”

“But nothing allows it. Neither dying… nor saving them.”

A self-mocking laugh slipped from between Seowon’s lips.

“It must mean I’m meant to apologize, and then die.”

“……”

“If I dare to seek an easy death, my senior brothers and disciples above must be cursing me through tears of blood.”

“That can’t be.”

“No. The sin I committed is not so light.”

As if revealing his heart, his internal energy trembled in fine waves. Letting out a soft breath, Eunmyeong gently brushed his rough knuckles.

All rampaging Espers had died—but if any had survived and suffered like Seowon, Eunmyeong would have told them without hesitation:

It wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t something you could control.

But saying that now wouldn’t reach him anyway.

Telling someone who wants to die that they must live never worked. So Eunmyeong chose what he did best—comforting through action. He wiggled his fingers slightly.

“Physician?”

A puzzled voice returned. Without answering, Eunmyeong slid his fingers between Seowon’s.

“What is this—”

“You said you wanted to die.”

More energy flowed through their interlaced fingers. Hearing the low groan that followed, Eunmyeong lifted the corner of his mouth.

“Then shall we try dying well together?”

“…Pardon?”

“If you’re going to die anyway, you said dying at Mount Hua’s grave would be better than dying by Tang Mujin’s poison.”

“……”

“I’ll do my best to treat you, so don’t die here—die there instead. If you must.”

If he lived one more day like that, and then another, perhaps someday he’d find the strength to move forward. That was the best Eunmyeong could offer.

“And if you end up wanting to live a little longer… then live a bit more.”

“…That won’t—”

“Hey. Quiet, quiet.”

Cutting him off, Eunmyeong raised a finger to his own lips. Ah—guiding broke. Hastily, he clasped Seowon’s hand again.

Feeling the internal energy settle once more, Seowon closed his eyes. No matter how he thought about it, the man was strange.

Let’s try dying well…

Turning that violent yet oddly cheerful phrase over in his mind, he leaned back. Though they had just met, he felt—somehow—that he could trust this man.

“Oof.”

Squatting before the opening, Eunmyeong properly began guiding. Seowon’s breathing gradually softened—it seemed to be working.

Still, this isn’t enough.

This was completely different from guiding Tang Mujin. Like a monster that devoured energy, Seowon was greedily sucking Eunmyeong’s power dry. Already rampaged fluctuations demanded far more energy.

At this rate, Eunmyeong wasn’t sure he could finish guiding by the day Cheongwoo had mentioned.

It’d be better if I could at least hug him.

The efficiency was too low. Either his exhausted body would give out, or Mujin would end up killing Seowon.

Smacking his lips regretfully, Eunmyeong asked,

“Could you make the hole a bit bigger?”

“I can’t make it any larger.”

The immediate reply made Eunmyeong tilt his head. Considering how easily Seowon had punched through the rock, widening it should’ve been trivial.

Then why refuse?

“…Are you afraid I’ll hurt you or something?”

“What?”

“I won’t bite. I mean—I do bite, but I won’t bite you.”

“How did you come to that conclusion?”

“You said you can’t make it bigger. Isn’t that because you’re worried I’ll do something?”

If it was wariness toward a stranger, Eunmyeong was fully prepared to give a long speech about how normal and decent he actually was—if only asked.

As he swallowed, a soft laugh escaped from inside the cave.

“A man who wishes to die has no reason to be wary.”

“Oh.”

“I’m only afraid that if I lose consciousness, I might harm you.”

With the Seowon of now, that seemed impossible—but the Seowon he’d first met could easily have done so.

I even spat at him…

Shaking his head at the memory of teasing him at the end, Eunmyeong sighed.

Above all, his own life mattered. He decided to give up on widening the hole entirely.

“You’re a strange person.”

Seowon’s low voice followed—pleasant, calming to the listener.

“Aren’t you afraid of me, Physician?”

“What’s there to be afraid of? You’re trapped in there.”

“But I could break out at any time.”

By that logic, every Esper Eunmyeong had ever met had been dangerous. A single careless touch from them could cost a normal person their life. And on days when their fluctuations went awry, entire centers vanished like they’d been hit by a bomb.

Still, Eunmyeong wasn’t afraid of Espers. Even without his fear, they already feared and loathed themselves enough.

“You’re a patient. A sick patient.”

“……”

“If I were afraid of that, I’d have quit being a physician long ago.”

He moved his hand gently. When he interlaced their fingers more deeply, he could feel the calluses carved into Seowon’s palm.

“And besides—you’re holding on tight, aren’t you? That, um… sharp-tongued person.”

The comment must have amused him, because Seowon laughed again. It was the first laugh Eunmyeong had heard since entering the cave.

“Yes. I’ll hold on firmly.”

“Please do. If I come back and it’s that version of you, my hand might go flying.”

Considering the spitting incident, he’d probably try to kill him. Remembering that warning voice, Eunmyeong shuddered.

And so, until the sun set, Eunmyeong did not let go of Seowon’s hand.

They chatted softly, and before they knew it, dusk had fallen. Though rare, Cheongwoo or Mujin might come looking, so Eunmyeong needed to return early.

He reshaped stories from before coming here to fit this world, talking away without noticing time pass. Seowon, moreover, was an excellent listener—his gentle responses only made Eunmyeong more animated.

“I think I should go now.”

After gathering his things, Eunmyeong released his hand.

“I’ll come tomorrow. I’ll come late at night…”

Just as his hand was about to slip free, Seowon’s hand shot out of the cave. Grab. He clutched Eunmyeong’s fingertips desperately.

“…You really will come?”

His voice trembled finely. The only hope he had left was this nameless physician.

All Espers thirsted for guiding. Even the steadfast Mujin had nearly broken at first. How desperate it must be for an Esper on the brink of rampage—Eunmyeong couldn’t even imagine.

Eunmyeong held his hand with his other hand. Warmth passed from palm to palm.

“Yes. I’ll come back.”

“……”

“If I don’t, smash this open and come out. You can take my head off then—I won’t complain.”

“…Your words are rather rough.”

“It’s because I’m from the Tang Clan. You Mount Hua folks sound like Daoist sages.”

The short joke seemed to ease him; relief flickered across Seowon’s expression. Seizing the moment, Eunmyeong guided his hand back inside the cave.

Perhaps affection had grown through conversation—Eunmyeong’s feet were slow to move. After glancing back at the cave again and again, he finally turned.

“See you tomorrow.”

There was no reply.