Guide of the Sichuan Tang Clan C53

Chapter 53

Cheongwoo sat at the head of the table, the elders lined up on either side. Baekseon, his closest aide, took the seat to his right, while Goju, who handled matters outside Sichuan, sat to his left.

A heavy silence filled the room. Everyone looked as though they had plenty to say, yet no one dared speak first—because Cheongwoo was deep in thought.

“Hm…”

Leaning back in his chair, he stroked his chin.

I told him to be careful.

Eunmyeong’s face from dawn surfaced in his mind—so pale he’d looked dead. Cheongwoo had spent the entire morning pressing his fingers to Eunmyeong’s nose, just to be sure he was breathing.

On the day Eunmyeong collapsed, when the battle dragged on, Cheongwoo and the elders had headed to Sichuan Great Mountain themselves—just in case Mujin failed to subdue Seowon properly.

They arrived just as Eunmyeong shouted Mujin’s name.

“Tang Mujin!”

At that moment, Mujin’s gaze flicked briefly toward Cheongwoo—then away. Only after he was certain Eunmyeong would survive did Mujin complete Mancheonhwau.

And amid the rain of falling hidden weapons—

Eunmyeong pressed his lips against Seowon’s.

Good heavens.

What in the—!

The elders’ mouths fell open at the shameless sight. Among them, Namya gasped and hurriedly covered his eyes with both hands.

What followed unfolded exactly as Cheongwoo had expected.

Those present watched Seowon regain his sanity, and soon realized that the kiss they’d witnessed was part of treatment. Elders who had reached higher realms could clearly sense the energy flowing from Eunmyeong.

How troublesome.

Perhaps next time, he should just tie the boy to his knee. Watching him scurry around like a puppy was cute, but it might be time to properly train him.

A dog should at least know who its owner is.

Maybe he’d even tie a ribbon around Eunmyeong’s neck. Since he liked running around in the sun, yellow would suit him nicely. As Cheongwoo imagined loosening that ribbon, the corner of his mouth lifted—

“From the moment you kept him close, I knew something was amiss.”

An elder seated diagonally across from Baekseon spoke up. Hosun, long white hair flowing down his back, was the oldest among those present. Though well past the age to pass his position to his son, he still held leadership over a collateral branch.

Pulled back from his thoughts, Cheongwoo turned to him.

“And why is that?”

“There’s nothing special about that child, is there? He wasn’t someone who regularly associated with you, Clan Head…”

Hosun’s gaze briefly settled on Namya.

“He doesn’t even have particularly good blood. Yet from a certain point on, both you and the Young Master kept him close.”

“To say I ‘kept him close’ feels rather unfair.”

“That’s beside the point. What matters is something else.”

Cheongwoo’s eyebrow twitched at the dismissive tone. Though his smile remained gentle, his eyes had gone cold.

Noticing the shift, Hosun signaled subtly to the other collateral elders. One of them took the cue and continued.

“Ahem. I asked my son, and he told me of an unsavory rumor. That the Young Master and that child, Tang Eunmyeong, are in an amorous relationship.”

“I’ve heard it too. It’s been circulating for days now!”

Anyone in Sichuan had heard the rumor at least once. Some dismissed it as nonsense, others as the Young Master’s whim—but now that Eunmyeong’s ability to control internal energy was known, the rumor carried a different weight.

Sensing the unrest, Hosun smiled thinly.

“Did you perhaps know in advance and monopolize the child?”

For a Clan Head to pursue private gain rather than the clan’s prosperity was a grave accusation. The Tang Clan had changed leaders before—such things were not unheard of.

Hosun slammed his cup down loudly.

“If you knew beforehand, then it should be shared fairly. For the Clan Head and Young Master—those who should lead by example—to scheme so selfishly…”

“Mind your words, Elder!”

Baekseon snapped sharply. The room froze at once.

Those loyal to Cheongwoo and the dissatisfied collateral branches exchanged glances. The silence stretched on—so thick that even the servants outside the door felt they couldn’t breathe.

The one who broke it was Cheongwoo.

“Haha.”

He laughed lightly, uncrossing his arms. With a relaxed air, he poured himself tea. The gentle sound of liquid filling the cup echoed through the room.

“No matter how close we are, I can hardly interfere with my younger brother’s love life.”

He continued in a voice warm enough to sound genuinely affectionate.

“He’s grown. I can’t very well tell him to hold hands or kiss someone. Perhaps you meddle in your brother’s bedchamber, Elder—but I don’t have such hobbies.”

Hosun ground his teeth at the kindly expression on Cheongwoo’s face. Everyone there knew the truth.

Cheongwoo did not dote on Mujin.

“That the child possesses a remarkable ability—I learned that at the same time as all of you.”

“Clan Head!”

“I called this meeting not to discuss that, but to decide how the Tang Clan should proceed from here. I’d appreciate it if you kept that in mind.”

The topic was deftly redirected. Hosun’s eyes rolled back in fury, but the elders’ focus had already shifted—to what to do about the Sword Master of Mount Hua, and how to explain the situation to other orthodox sects.

Bang!

Hosun slammed the table and stood.

“Then why did you seat the boy on your knee during the elders’ meeting?!”

“….”

“I’ve heard you even gave him special sweets to curry favor! Surely that’s because of his ability!”

Cheongwoo set down the teacup he’d been lifting. The smile had long since vanished from his lips.

“That’s because…”

When Cheongwoo’s snake-like gaze turned on him, Hosun stiffened. Even at over sixty, he could never get used to that look. If anything, it grew more frightening with each passing year.

Forcing himself not to falter, Hosun met his eyes.

At last, Cheongwoo spoke.

“Because the child is pretty.”

“….”

“I simply believe in giving one extra rice cake to someone pretty rather than someone ugly. I thought handing him a sweet might soothe my heart. If I win his affection too, all the better.”

“….”

“Is that answer sufficient? Or shall I go check the child’s face with you?”

Cheongwoo’s eyes curved gently.

Hosun’s face flushed red—completely cornered. Saying more would only strengthen Cheongwoo’s position.

As Hosun dropped back into his seat, fuming, Cheongwoo added casually,

“Oh, and one more thing.”

The elders, who’d just exhaled in relief, looked back at him. The smile vanished, replaced by an icy expression.

“Since when did collateral branches decide Tang Clan law?”

Tension snapped back into place. Seeing them straighten instantly, Cheongwoo finally began the real meeting.

He smiled only once more—when Mujin’s attendant delivered a message.

“So, he woke up late.”

With that, the meeting continued.

When Eunmyeong woke from a nap, Namya was sitting beside him. His face looked drawn—clearly worried sick about his only son. Namya was silently placing needles when Eunmyeong grabbed him.

“Dad.”

“Gah!”

Startled, Namya plunged the needle straight in. A needle as long as a palm sank into Eunmyeong’s thigh, and they both screamed.

“Ah!”

“Ah!”

“Oops. Missed the spot.”

“Dad!”

Where was the master physician in him?! Eunmyeong desperately wanted to check his thigh, but all he could do was pinch Namya.

“You brat! That hurts!”

“It hurts for me too!”

Though he complained, Namya examined Eunmyeong carefully—checking the whites of his eyes, the clarity of his gaze, the color of his lips, any cracks in his skin.

Better noisy than lying still like a corpse. Sometimes annoying, yes—but that was because Eunmyeong took after him.

“Enough, this is embarrassing. We have a guest…”

“A guest?”

Lifting his head, Eunmyeong saw Seowon standing in the doorway—this time properly dressed in inner robes and an outer robe.

Seeing him clothed felt oddly unfamiliar, after only ever seeing him half-naked. Seowon inclined his head politely, receiving Eunmyeong’s searching gaze.

Neatly groomed, he looked exactly as described in the novel: hair tied high, attire immaculate, the very image of an orthodox disciple. Beneath it all was a gentle face.

He’s handsome too.

Eunmyeong realized belatedly. Why did martial arts protagonists have to be good-looking on top of everything else?

Distracted, he nudged Namya with his elbow.

“I heard the Young Master prepared separate quarters for you. So why are you in my room?”

“It was the Clan Head’s order.”

“…What?”

Eunmyeong’s eyes widened.

Cheongwoo’s order? The man who hated Mujin clinging to him wouldn’t attach another nuisance. And hadn’t Seowon already been given a room?

Completely forgetting he’d occupied Mujin’s room for a week, Eunmyeong pressed on.

“I’ll need more explanation. Why would the Clan Head give such an order?”

Seowon relayed Cheongwoo’s words exactly.

That Eunmyeong would surely ask what had happened the moment he woke—and what situation he was now in.

How did he know him so well?

As Eunmyeong mulled over Cheongwoo’s message, he called again,

“Sword Master?”

“…I don’t know the reason, but he told me to deliver this.”

Meeting Eunmyeong’s eyes, Seowon continued with the words he’d hesitated to pass on.

“He said—as feared, you have become an elixir.”

The back of Eunmyeong’s neck went rigid.

“…Ugh.”

His head lolled back as he collapsed.

Let’s just… not think.

Beside him, Namya calmly pulled out several long needles.

Only after being turned into a human pincushion did Eunmyeong finally manage to sit up.