Guide of the Sichuan Tang Clan C46

Chapter 46

For quite a while, Mujin rested his head against Eunmyeong’s shoulder. Because of that, Eunmyeong had to stretch both arms out fully just to hold him.

Between them, Yuseong’s soft, even breathing could be heard. Listening to it was strangely calming—peaceful, even.

…That is, if you ignored the people standing off to the side like a pack of meerkats.

Why are they staring like that now?

The martial artists who had been training had gathered together at some point, all watching the two of them. They seemed to think they were hiding by crouching near where the wooden practice swords were stacked, but with bodies that bulky, there was no way they were actually concealed.

Among them were Sowoon and Yujo as well. The moment his eyes met Sowoon’s, the man gave him a knowing grin. That was enough to make Eunmyeong move.

When he lowered the hand that had been resting on Mujin’s back, Mujin tilted his head, which had been resting on Eunmyeong’s shoulder. His expression clearly asked What are you doing?

“My arm’s going numb,” Eunmyeong said.

When he tried to pull away, Mujin grabbed his wrist and placed it right back behind his own back.

Pull away—put back.

Pull away—put back.

Unable to overpower him, Eunmyeong finally sighed.

“I said my arm is numb. If you’re sick, I’ll treat you, but there’s no physician to treat me, you know?”

“Then I’ll do it.”

“You’ll treat me, Young Master?”

You can’t even place acupuncture needles straight. Forgetting his own crooked needlework, Eunmyeong looked at him skeptically.

“What kind of treatment can someone who only knows martial arts give? Stop lying.”

“I can attend to you.”

The corners of Mujin’s lips curved upward neatly. At that picture-perfect smile, Eunmyeong’s throat bobbed.

“I’ll brush your hair, dress you, put your shoes on. Like today—I’ll look after Yuseong, and I’ll trim all the herbs too.”

“…You destroyed half of them.”

“I’ll try harder to preserve more next time.”

Mujin gently took Eunmyeong’s hand again. This time, instead of his back, he wrapped Eunmyeong’s arm around his waist, smiling in satisfaction.

“So let’s just stay like this for now.”

At the playful tone, Eunmyeong pressed his lips together. His heartbeat now thundered louder in his ears than the child’s breathing.

A groan slipped out despite himself. He couldn’t even get properly angry anymore. The image of Mujin watching his mood all day, trailing after him trying to explain, flashed through his mind.

He couldn’t bring himself to push Mujin away—especially not when Mujin was already in his arms.

“Young Master.”

This time, Eunmyeong properly wrapped his arm around Mujin’s waist.

“Let’s talk.”

At that, Mujin lifted his head from Eunmyeong’s shoulder. The movement made Yuseong whimper softly.

Just as Mujin was about to respond—

“Young Master.”

Sowoon, who had been spying on them, had somehow ended up right in front of them. Bowing briefly, he spoke.

“The elders’ council is requesting your presence.”

“Today isn’t a scheduled meeting day. The Clan Head won’t be attending either.”

“Judging by the location being Wimungak Pavilion, it seems they’ve convened separately. And the fact that an elder’s personal attendant came instead of a maid is… suspicious.”

“Did they just arrive?”

“Yes…”

Sowoon met Eunmyeong’s eyes and flashed a grin—the look he wore right before teasing someone.

“You two were so intense that I couldn’t decide whether to interrupt or wait.”

Remembering the feeling of Mujin’s arm around his waist, Eunmyeong’s face burned. In contrast, Mujin calmly nodded and laid the child down on the platform.

Carefully brushing the hair stuck to Yuseong’s forehead aside, Mujin turned—and then, just as gently, smoothed Eunmyeong’s hair as well.

“We’ll finish our conversation in my quarters.”

“…When will you come back?”

“I’ll return before sunset. For today, go back to the quarters first.”

He still had to go guide Seowon today, but Eunmyeong nodded anyway. As if praising him, Mujin patted his head.

Soon, Mujin and Sowoon walked out of the training grounds. Behind them, the elder’s attendant bowed deeply—something Eunmyeong noticed as well.

Their low voices carried on the wind, making Eunmyeong’s face grow even hotter.

“If something like this happens again, don’t interrupt.”

You said it was temporary.

You said no one would believe it.

So where does “next time” come from?

Muttering under his breath, Eunmyeong lowered his head. They had kissed, they had embraced—yet somehow, those words embarrassed him even more.

After standing there for a while, Eunmyeong handed Yuseong over to Yujo and gathered his needles.

When his heart felt unsettled, working was best.

Work. Let’s go work.

With his face still red, he headed toward the Sichuan Great Mountains.

The Tang Clan of Sichuan had, for generations, passed the position of Clan Head down the direct line.

That the Tang Clan held such overwhelming power in Sichuan meant one thing: Tang family members rarely ever left the region. While it was a close-knit clan bound by blood, what truly isolated them was their martial art.

Poison-based assassination techniques were considered ominous by the Central Plains. The Tang Clan was praised as a great house—yet never fully accepted among the orthodox sects. The reason was simple: no one wished to stand alongside those who wielded poison as martial arts.

Half by choice, half by circumstance, the Tang Clan rooted itself in Sichuan and was gradually excluded. Marriage, exchange, even livelihood were all handled within Sichuan, which only strengthened the clan’s internal power.

But power needed a center.

The Clan Head was the one who controlled that massive force. True to the Tang Clan’s creed—power must be governed by power—the position was passed to a direct descendant with exceptional martial ability.

The problem was that the current Clan Head had no sons.

At that moment, in Wimungak Pavilion.

Dragged into the elders’ meeting, Namya leaned back in his chair. He’d been forcibly brought along by Goju, the elder in charge of external communications.

So noisy. They say people talk more as they age—why is everyone especially chatty today?

Once-famous masters of poison arts, they were now just old men. Time had carved itself into their faces, but their sharp eyes remained.

“If only the Clan Head had married earlier!”

“That’s right! That one from Namgung who came seeking an alliance!”

“Namgung Chohui?”

“Yes! She clearly had feelings for the Clan Head—!”

“You old fool. Her son is already making a name for himself in the Central Plains! How far back are you talking?”

Goju clicked his tongue, crossing his arms.

“It’s already come to that?”

“Well, how old do you think we are? We’re not the only ones who’ve aged. The Clan Head is far past the time to look for a match.”

The root of the problem was Cheongwoo’s lack of an heir. If not a wife, even a concubine would have sufficed—but Cheongwoo seemed determined to grow old alone, never once stepping into a tavern district.

The elders had tried offering their daughters, to no avail.

You should treasure your daughters. Hand them to someone like me? No thanks.

Each time, Cheongwoo gently sent the women back and warned the elders not to interfere further in his marriage.

Clang.

Elder Baekseon, seated at the center, set down his teacup. The heavy sound silenced the room instantly.

Baekseon—Cheongwoo’s closest confidant—was the longest-serving elder and his most loyal retainer. Stroking his white beard, he spoke.

“The Clan Head’s marriage is already a lost cause. There’s no need to discuss it further. That is his will.”

His grayish eyes gleamed faintly, desire flickering within them.

He turned toward Goju.

“There’s been an incident in the Central Plains, hasn’t there?”

“Yes. One village was completely destroyed. Nothing left standing—just embers. It’s close to Sichuan, which concerns me.”

“Then it would be wise to secure the successor first.”

Resting his chin on his clasped hands, Baekseon murmured,

“Chaos invites opportunity. The collateral branches may try to push forward their own sons.”

“What? How could they—? We have the Young Master, don’t we?”

“Even if he has been named, it’s only in title. Without power, a name is meaningless. A Young Master who has not completed Mancheonhwau will never be acknowledged.”

“……”

“And if that happens, the faction supporting the Clan Head will waver.”

Namya turned his head slightly, away from Baekseon’s line of sight.

This is why I always feel uncomfortable around him.

To Namya, Baekseon resembled a girl hopelessly in love—his entire world revolving around Cheongwoo. Every decision he made was based on what benefited Cheongwoo, what elevated his prestige.

Even this private meeting of elders favorable to the Clan Head existed solely to reinforce Cheongwoo’s power.

But those closest often saw least clearly.

Even if Tang Mujin were not fully recognized as the rightful Young Master, Namya doubted Cheongwoo’s position would truly shake.

If anything, he’d tighten his grip even more.

Though Cheongwoo rarely stepped forward in peaceful times, his martial prowess was among the finest in the Tang Clan’s history.

To think such a man would be swayed by collateral branches? Namya almost laughed aloud.

At the sudden sound, the elders’ gazes snapped toward him.

“…Did you just laugh?”

Veins bulged on Baekseon’s forehead. Realizing his mistake, Namya hastily opened his mouth to explain—

“Come to think of it, isn’t your son quite close to the Young Master?”

“……”

“There are rumors that your son and the Young Master are… involved. For now, the Young Master’s name shields everything—but if that name were gone, could your son remain in Sichuan?”

Namya looked at Baekseon with unsteady eyes. Beside him, elders bowed their heads. Even Goju—who had been close with Namya—avoided his gaze.

“This concerns you as well, Tang Namya.”

“……”

“For your son’s sake, Tang Mujin must keep the position of Young Master.”

Baekseon’s words coiled around Namya like a snake. Like the others, Namya could not move, lowering his head under the pressure.

Just as the weight bore down on him—

The doors of Wimungak Pavilion opened.