Guide of the Sichuan Tang Clan C48

Chapter 48

“Why are you even here?”

A low voice slipped out. After barely getting the information from Namya that Eunmyeong often climbed the Sichuan Great Mountains, Mujin had rushed here without hesitation.

His eyes sharpened as he looked at the throwing knives scattered everywhere.

“If you’d been hit by even one of those, what then? You know there are traps all over the Sichuan Great Mountains—what were you thinking, coming all the way out here…!”

Following Mujin’s gaze, Eunmyeong looked down at the ground. Under the moonlight, sharp blades gleamed—far keener than the swords kept in the training grounds.

Gulp. Eunmyeong’s throat bobbed.

So I’ve been dodging death by sheer luck this whole time?

Realizing how many close calls he’d unknowingly survived, Eunmyeong panted. He was going through all this trouble just to live longer, yet he’d almost died before the Demon Cult War even broke out. Fortunately, it seemed he’d avoided most traps by following the faint traces Mujin had left behind.

Am I insane…

As Eunmyeong stared at the knives with trembling eyes, Mujin grabbed him. One hand cupped his chin as Mujin turned his face this way and that.

“Are you hurt anywhere? You look pale. Did anything even graze you?”

“I’m fhhine. Let gho.”

“Then why are you covered in dirt like this? Just how did you climb the mountain?”

How did I climb? I rolled.

But Eunmyeong swallowed the answer. He didn’t need another lecture.

He placed his hand over the back of Mujin’s hand. When he applied a bit of pressure, Mujin slowly released his grip.

“I said I’m fine. I didn’t get hit by any knives—I just rolled a little while dodging them.”

“……”

“Seriously.”

Still unconvinced, Mujin scanned him again. Trying to prove his point, Eunmyeong stood and spread his arms. When he rolled up his sleeve, a bandage wrapped tightly around his arm came into view—the injury from saving Mujin before.

“See? Look. I’m fine.”

“In your eyes, this counts as fine?”

Mujin ground the words out through clenched teeth. Slowly, he rose to his full height—like a predator straightening after crouching low.

In the darkness, his gaze gleamed sharply. Watching Eunmyeong with relentless focus, Mujin seized his wrist and lifted it.

“Ah—”

“You flinch every time you lift this arm, and you still say you’re fine?”

His hand slid down to Eunmyeong’s arm. The moment he pressed against the elbow, searing pain tore through Eunmyeong’s body. It was an injury he hadn’t even noticed before.

“—!”

Eunmyeong bit his lip hard. Mujin’s eyes darkened further.

“Your elbow’s fractured. Your legs are shaking, and your knee bent inward—you don’t even have the strength to walk down.”

“……”

“And in this condition, you climbed the mountain. Why?”

At last, the question he’d been avoiding arrived.

Where do I even start?

That he’d gone up to guide Seowon? That he’d deliberately left traces of scent to locate the cave?

His thoughts tangled. What if he asks how I even knew about Seowon?

Eunmyeong’s eyes wavered aimlessly. Mujin caught his cheeks in both hands.

“Tang Eunmyeong, stop overthinking and answer.”

Forced to meet his gaze, Eunmyeong looked into pitch-black eyes that didn’t waver in the slightest. In that steady stare, he realized that flimsy excuses wouldn’t work.

“…You wouldn’t consider letting this slide, would you?”

“…Should I become your Grim Reaper, then?”

“No.”

Apparently dissatisfied with the answer, Mujin tightened his grip. Eunmyeong’s soft cheeks puffed out as Mujin pressed down, as if he wouldn’t let go until he spoke.

“What on earth goes on in that head of yours.”

That the Sichuan Great Mountains were riddled with traps was common knowledge—even outsiders knew that. To prevent incursions from unorthodox sects or the Demon Cult, the Tang Clan had scattered deadly mechanisms throughout the area.

Reckless…

If Mujin had arrived even a little later, Eunmyeong would have been shredded by flying blades. Just imagining it made Mujin’s blood run cold.

Unaware of how close he’d come to dying, Eunmyeong just kept sneaking glances at Mujin’s face. Seeing his reddened cheeks and stubborn silence, Mujin sighed. He couldn’t leave this reckless calf roaming such a dangerous place anymore.

“We’ll talk about the details back at the quarters.”

In an instant, Mujin lifted Eunmyeong into his arms.

“A—!”

Startled by the sudden height, Eunmyeong clung to Mujin’s neck.

“Hey, at least warn me—!”

“You’re one to talk about not saying anything. And when we get back, you’ll tell me everything.”

He adjusted Eunmyeong in his arms and turned, lowering his stance to run.

“That will be better for you as well.”

The scenery blurred past as if the world had been fast-forwarded. Eunmyeong squeezed his eyes shut, pounding Mujin’s back repeatedly—but Mujin didn’t budge.

Kill me…

Eunmyeong muttered, unheard.

The moment they reached the quarters, Eunmyeong knelt like a criminal and confessed everything. That he’d heard about Seowon from Yujo, thought he might be able to help, and gone up the mountain—half truth, half lie.

When Eunmyeong mentioned deliberately leaving his guiding scent behind, Mujin’s eyebrow twitched upward, but he didn’t scold him further. He simply listened.

Even after the explanation ended, Mujin remained seated with his arms crossed. In front of him, Eunmyeong fidgeted with his fingers.

I’d rather he yell at me…

The uncomfortable silence pressed down on the room. Just as Eunmyeong was about to speak, Mujin finally did.

“So you’re saying you can heal the Plum Blossom(Maehwa) Sword Master.”

Eunmyeong’s face brightened at last.

“It’ll take time, but probably. He’s incredibly strong-willed, and he’s holding onto his internal energy well. The chances of recovery are high.”

“So there’s still a chance of failure.”

“…That’s true, but the odds of success are higher.”

“In the end, it’s still a possibility. Not a certainty.”

Mujin looked at Eunmyeong with clear displeasure. His fingers tapped lightly against Eunmyeong’s elbow.

“He’s someone who could break out of that cave at any moment. He’s too dangerous to treat.”

“…Even so.”

“If he falls into qi deviation again, he’ll cut people down like a demon blade. And you’ll jump right in without thinking.”

“……”

“Am I wrong, Tang Eunmyeong?”

Eunmyeong bit his lip. Mujin was right. If Seowon lost control again, Eunmyeong would rush in without hesitation. He couldn’t abandon someone who was dying.

Still.

He lifted his head and stepped closer.

“You’re right, Young Master. You’re completely right. But… we never know who might suffer qi deviation next.”

Eunmyeong placed his hand lightly on Mujin’s thigh, sending a faint thread of guiding energy through—his own way of asking for leniency.

“Next time it could be you. Or Yujo. Or Yuseong. We can’t just give up every time.”

“No one would ever ask you to risk your life. They’d all tell you to run first.”

Seowon’s words—telling him to stay away despite his own pain—rose in his mind. So did Mujin’s past attempts to push him away while suffering himself.

Yujo and Yuseong would be no different. So would the others who’d once gone berserk in his old world.

Eunmyeong let out a small laugh.

“If I’d avoided danger every time, I wouldn’t have met you. Or Yujo. Or Yuseong.”

“……”

“It’s just how I am. I can’t watch people die. I can’t watch them suffer. I guess being a physician really is my calling.”

His eyes curved into crescents as he smiled—so fleeting it looked like it might vanish at any moment. Mujin clenched his fist.

That small body held more resolve than anyone in the Tang Clan. Gentle when dealing with people, but utterly unyielding when it came to healing.

He’d been like that from the very first time he took Mujin’s hand to guide him.

Maybe that’s why he shines.

Mujin suddenly grabbed Eunmyeong by the waist. With one hand, he spread Eunmyeong’s legs slightly and pulled him onto his lap.

“Then we’ll go together.”

“…Where?”

Eunmyeong asked, desperately hoping he was wrong. Seeing straight through him, Mujin let out a quiet chuckle.

“Y-you mean… where exactly?”

“You and me.”

Mujin tapped Eunmyeong’s shoulder.

“To the Sichuan Great Mountains. To where the swordsman is.”

This had escalated far beyond expectations.

“So… that’s how it turned out.”

Standing before Seowon’s cave, Eunmyeong finished his explanation and glanced back. Mujin was leaning against a tree, his expression openly displeased.

He looked relaxed, but if the cave so much as trembled, he’d draw his throwing knives without hesitation.

At least I made him promise not to interfere…

If Eunmyeong hadn’t, Mujin would’ve snuck out day and night. Reluctantly, he’d agreed—on condition.

Watching Seowon’s unstable flow, Eunmyeong swallowed.

“I would have done the same,” came Seowon’s gentle voice from within the cave. “Please don’t trouble yourself over it.”

“I’m simply overwhelmed with gratitude, Physician. That you would brave such danger for me… I don’t know how to repay this kindness.”

“Then recover quickly.”

Eunmyeong tightened his grip on Seowon’s hands. Seowon flinched slightly at the contact.

“You need to get better first if you want to repay anything. We don’t have many days left as it is.”

“…Isn’t the day the Clan Head mentioned only two days away?”

“That’s right. Two days.”

Eunmyeong stared hard at the turbulent energy beyond the cave. It was better than before—but still dangerous.

Hand-guiding really has its limits.

At this rate, Seowon would either die by Mujin’s hand or by Cheongwoo’s. No matter how he looked at it, this was a waste of incredible talent. In the novel, there was no swordsman like Seowon.

After staring at their joined hands, Eunmyeong made up his mind.

“Don’t be surprised. I won’t bite.”

“…What?”

In the next instant, Eunmyeong leaned forward.

Soft lips pressed against the back of Seowon’s hand.