Guide of the Sichuan Tang Clan C57

Chapter 57

In the end, his stamina was sucked dry all the way into the night. There wasn’t even enough strength left to move a finger. Perhaps because everything had been wrung out of him, sleep refused to come, and Eunmyeong lay there blinking.

“Mm……”

Something heavy thudded onto his waist. Startled by the suffocating weight, Eunmyeong looked down.

Seowon lay there with a peaceful expression, one thick arm wrapped firmly around Eunmyeong’s waist.

When Eunmyeong slapped at the arm a few times, Seowon tightened his hold as if he absolutely could not let go. Not to be outdone, Mujin—who had been lying on the left—burrowed straight into Eunmyeong’s chest.

‘Aaah…’

With two large men clinging to him, he felt like he was about to be crushed to death. Eunmyeong pushed at them with what little strength he had left, but there was no way a weakened physician could shove off trained martial artists.

‘And I can’t even wake them up!’

If he did, he’d only get more exhausted. Giving up, Eunmyeong covered his face with both hands.

The workload was beyond brutal. Back at the Center, they’d worked the only S-rank guide to the bone too—but at least working hours were respected. Except for emergencies, there was a concept of weekends.

Here? Day and night blurred together into endless guiding. And not just that—breaking up fights between the two of them had Eunmyeong wondering if he’d become a dog trainer instead of a physician.

Just as he was sighing, his body suddenly felt lighter—lifted upward.

“Huh?”

Eunmyeong moved his hands away from his face. Tang Cheongwoo’s face came into view, looking down at him.

Just as Eunmyeong was about to call out, Cheongwoo covered his mouth with one hand and pulled him close with the other. Seeing him for the first time since the day Seowon had lost control, Eunmyeong obediently relaxed into his arms.

Cheongwoo rose with him held securely, then slipped effortlessly through the window. There was no rustle of fabric, no sound of footsteps.

As he ran while carrying Eunmyeong, Cheongwoo made no sound at all—not even his breathing. It felt like being held by a ghost. Is this really the Tang Clan Head? Eunmyeong was staring up at him in fascination when—

“If you stare like that, even I get embarrassed.”

Cheongwoo had already stopped. He whispered softly while looking down at Eunmyeong.

Eunmyeong sucked in a breath and hurriedly turned his head away.

In that brief moment, the scenery had completely changed.

“Wow……”

Under the night sky, countless purple flowers stretched out before them. The flower field was so vast its end couldn’t be seen, and Eunmyeong let out an awed breath.

Sweet floral fragrance rode the night breeze. Somewhere, insects chirred softly, and whenever the wind passed through, light spilled from the petals.

Overwhelmed by the unreal scenery, Eunmyeong’s head turned busily from side to side. Watching him like a child sightseeing, Cheongwoo let out a small laugh.

“I’m glad. You seem to like it.”

“Where is this place?”

“On the outskirts of Sichuan. With so many flowers, lovers come here often.”

The word lovers pierced straight through Eunmyeong’s chest.

Lovers? With Mujin and Seowon alone, his head was already splitting—there was no room for Cheongwoo too. Letting out a small groan, Eunmyeong said,

“But you and I aren’t lovers, Clan Head.”

“It’s not only lovers who come here. For example…”

Cheongwoo gently set Eunmyeong down on the ground. Then he tucked a purple flower behind Eunmyeong’s ear. Even after fixing it, his hand lingered at Eunmyeong’s earlobe, reluctant to leave.

“They also come here when asking for love.”

As if he knew exactly what Eunmyeong was thinking, Cheongwoo’s lips curved upward in satisfaction.

His languid expression, the lifted corners of his mouth, the gaze that wouldn’t leave—combined with the sea of flowers behind him, everything tangled up Eunmyeong’s thoughts.

‘That’s cheating.’

A breathtaking view and a devastatingly handsome man? He must have planned this, fully aware of how effective his face was. Pouting, Eunmyeong stepped back.

“Then it has nothing to do with us. We’re far from lovers.”

Cheongwoo’s hand slipped easily from his earlobe. Reassured, Eunmyeong took another step back.

“Right?”

“Yes. Very far.”

As if he had no intention of pushing further, Cheongwoo clasped his hands behind his back. Even with his hands hidden, an air of leisure radiated from him—the confidence of someone who could snatch you back no matter how far you ran.

Looking straight at Eunmyeong, Cheongwoo continued,

“It’s a one-sided thing, after all. I’m the only one clinging.”

“…What?”

At Eunmyeong’s blank expression, Cheongwoo laughed.

“Isn’t it true? I’m the one who keeps coming to you, the one who carries you around. Meanwhile, you’re rolling around with other men.”

“That sounds… weird.”

“It can’t be helped. I dote on arrogant creatures like that.”

From the way he spoke, Cheongwoo sounded outrageously libertine. As if I roll around because I want to. Eunmyeong stopped retreating; by now, a considerable distance lay between them.

With a bit of space secured, the tension drained from his body. And only then did the thoughts he’d been suppressing burst out—exactly what Cheongwoo had been waiting for.

“How much have you even clung to me, anyway?”

“Hm?”

“You haven’t actually done that many things. Calling me to meetings. Teasing me by calling me ‘baby.’ Sitting me on your lap and feeding me sweets. Giving me liquor when I asked…”

Wait.

“Taking me to nice places… sneaking me out of my room at night.”

“……”

“Hugging me…?”

Saying it out loud, it all sounded like things you only did to someone you liked.

Always acting like he was barely there, Cheongwoo nevertheless appeared at crucial moments and gave Eunmyeong exactly what he needed.

‘And he granted almost every request.’

When Eunmyeong had asked to treat Mujin, when he’d asked for liquor—Cheongwoo had agreed without hesitation. Do as you please, he’d said, willingly.

Eunmyeong’s eyes wavered in confusion. Just as he instinctively stepped back, his knee buckled and his legs tangled.

“Ah!”

His body toppled toward the field of flowers. Just before he hit the ground, Cheongwoo—who had been standing far away—rushed in and caught him.

The world flipped.

Suddenly, Eunmyeong was sitting astride Cheongwoo’s lap. Something heavy asserted its presence behind him.

“So that’s still not enough for you?”

“……”

“Well, just looking at you sitting on top of me like this—clearly, you’re not ordinary. Right?”

“Clan Head, that’s not—”

“I thought you were only pretty lying down, but you’re a sight even from below. I should seat you like this more often.”

It was definitely praise, but his thoughts kept drifting in dangerous directions. Seat me often? Was that his taste? Remembering how he’d once been rocked mercilessly atop this very place, led by Cheongwoo, Eunmyeong’s face burned.

“Clan Head, please—!”

Cheongwoo, sensing where his thoughts had gone, stroked Eunmyeong’s waist. When his fingers traced downward, Eunmyeong jolted.

“Ugh!”

As Cheongwoo lifted his knee, Eunmyeong pitched forward. His head slammed squarely into Cheongwoo’s solid chest, drawing out a groan.

Ow…

Rubbing his head, Eunmyeong looked up—and met Cheongwoo’s eyes.

The playful smile was gone.

“C-Clan Head.”

“You should stop playing around and go back. The place you’ll return to was decided long ago.”

I’m planning to retire and run, though… Flustered, Eunmyeong asked,

“Where to?”

“Where else? Everything in Sichuan is mine.”

“…Me too?”

“Then what—were you planning to change your surname to Namgung?”

Where did he hear that? Did Father say something?

Waiting silently for an explanation, Eunmyeong watched as Cheongwoo chuckled.

“Didn’t I tell you? Everything in Sichuan is mine.”

His hand moved down from Eunmyeong’s forehead. Fingering the purple flower still obediently tucked behind his ear, Cheongwoo spoke again.

“In Sichuan, there is nothing I don’t know, Eunmyeong.”

His lowered gaze fixed on Eunmyeong. Though his hand lingered near the ear, it felt as if it were already at his throat—ready to close at any moment.

This was Sichuan, just as he said. If even Eunmyeong’s joking with Namya reached Cheongwoo’s ears, then everything else must have too—his nightly climbs of Mount Sichuan for Seowon, his bickering with Mujin, all of it.

The oppressive weight he’d felt upon first meeting Cheongwoo surged back. Cheongwoo kneaded his earlobe, then continued,

“I don’t know what you’re waiting for… but my patience isn’t that long. The leeway I had is running out.”

“……”

“My composure came from the certainty that you would return. But if that isn’t so, why would I need to leave you free?”

“……”

“Watching you run around recklessly is cute, but…”

His fingertip slid lower.

Gulp.

He tapped lightly at the center of Eunmyeong’s throat.

“I think it would be quite fun to put a leash around this pretty neck.”

A chill raced down Eunmyeong’s spine. It felt as if a collar had already been fastened there.

His tone was gentle, but the threat was unmistakable: If you don’t return, I’ll lock you up.

‘I-I’m supposed to retire!’

Once the Demon Cult War ended, he was supposed to enjoy a peaceful retirement. Yet when that time came, it felt like Cheongwoo—and the others—would never let him go.

‘Should I just run near the end of the war…?’

“You’d better abandon thoughts of running.”

As if he’d read his mind, Cheongwoo murmured.

“Hic.”

A small hiccup slipped from Eunmyeong’s lips.

Like soothing a well-behaved puppy, Cheongwoo stroked Eunmyeong’s head. Eunmyeong was cute—his thoughts written plainly across his face.

“I would prefer not to use sound-based inner arts on you.”

Eunmyeong didn’t even know what sound-based inner arts were—but instinctively, he understood.

It meant: I’ll chase you to the ends of the earth and kill you.

Eunmyeong’s already pale face drained of all color.

Cheongwoo patted his head gently.

And at that moment, a figure clad in black appeared behind them.

“Clan Head.”

It was Heukryudan, Cheongwoo’s closest guard.