Chapter 23

“It will take about half a shichen.”

Unlike Seogyeom, whose thoughts were spinning in circles, Namgung Yun calmly stated the estimated duration.

An hour might not have sounded particularly long in some circumstances, but it was still far too much time to ask a busy Second Young Master to spend simply waiting around.

Tang Yu seemed to reach the same conclusion.

After a brief silence, he said he would wait in the Medicine Hall before slowly turning away.

Seogyeom watched the back of Tang Yu’s head disappear into the distance.

He even reached out a hand.

But he couldn’t catch so much as the shadow of his departing savior.

A moment later, the soft click of the door opening and closing echoed through the room.

Seogyeom was now completely alone with Namgung Yun.

He muttered a quiet curse under his breath.

Half a shichen.

An entire hour.

There was no way he could endure this embarrassing situation for that long.

“It would be better to change positions.”

Just as Seogyeom was desperately trying to think of a way out, Namgung Yun spoke.

Seogyeom’s gaze traveled downward from Namgung Yun’s eyes to his awkwardly bent waist.

Namgung Yun was probably embarrassed, too.

Even with no one else present, the position was undeniably awkward.

Seogyeom nodded.

The finger in his mouth slipped free.

Then his entire body was suddenly lifted into the air.

“Brother Jo?”

“It may be uncomfortable, but please bear with it for a moment.”

Bear with what?

Before Seogyeom could even ask, Namgung Yun sat down in an empty chair.

Seogyeom’s bottom naturally settled onto his lap, his back coming to rest against Namgung Yun’s broad chest.

Through the points where their bodies touched, he could feel the faint, steady thump of a heartbeat.

“Wait. Hold on…”

Seogyeom’s shoulders jerked as he struggled weakly.

It was hardly enough to count as resistance, however, and Namgung Yun subdued his movements with a single motion.

“This position will be more comfortable for you. Resting your back is surely better than having to keep your head raised the entire time.”

An arm wrapped around Seogyeom’s waist, holding him securely in place.

The embrace pulled him even closer, erasing the tiny bit of distance he had managed to maintain.

“Do we really have to stay like this for half a shichen?”

Seogyeom tapped Namgung Yun’s forearm.

“With me… biting your finger?”

He couldn’t help sounding pathetic.

Sitting on another man’s lap was already embarrassing enough.

Having to keep his mouth wrapped around that man’s finger for an entire hour on top of it felt like enough to kill him from sheer humiliation.

“It may take even longer. The medicinal potency is not absorbing properly.”

Every answer Namgung Yun gave seemed determined to plunge Seogyeom deeper into despair.

Should I just ask him to knock me unconscious?

Someone of Namgung Yun’s caliber could probably put him to sleep without causing any pain.

Seogyeom was seriously considering the possibility when another thought suddenly occurred to him.

“Come to think of it…”

He looked back at Namgung Yun.

“How did you treat me before?”

His eyes narrowed.

“You wouldn’t have put your finger in the mouth of someone who was unconscious… right?”

There was no way a noble young master of the Orthodox faction would do something so crude.

Right?

Seogyeom stared at him with genuine curiosity.

His question seemed to catch Namgung Yun off guard.

The awkward expression on his face was particularly noticeable because he was the one holding Seogyeom captive in his arms. There was nowhere for him to look away.

“At that time…”

Namgung Yun hesitated.

“I had no choice but to use another method. Treatment is naturally slower when the patient is unconscious.”

At last, a piece of the truth slipped from his lips.

That lingering hesitation was probably proof enough that there was a reason he hadn’t mentioned it earlier.

Unfortunately, Seogyeom’s rational judgment had long since abandoned him after one humiliating moment after another.

“Then let’s use that method!”

His eyes lit up.

He even clapped his hands right in front of Namgung Yun’s face.

A tiny dimple appeared beneath the mole under his eye as his expression brightened with delight.

“How long did it take?”

He leaned forward eagerly.

“Did it… take a long time?”

“No. Not at all.”

Namgung Yun answered after a slight pause.

“I believe it took a little over one ke.”

Distracted by Seogyeom’s unexpectedly casual reaction, he had answered almost belatedly.

There was a faint reluctance in his voice, but Seogyeom barely noticed.

Why would anything else matter?

The time would be cut down to a quarter.

“That’s perfect!”

Seogyeom nodded enthusiastically.

“There’s no reason to hesitate. Let’s start right away.”

With that, he turned forward again and settled his back against Namgung Yun’s chest.

In Seogyeom’s simplified understanding, the other method was probably some treatment that hurt a little but finished quickly.

Maybe Namgung Yun would simply force some internal energy into him.

That was about as bad as he expected.

“Will you not regret this?”

Namgung Yun’s low voice almost sounded like a sigh.

“Of course not!”

Seogyeom nodded confidently.

If he had to choose between sitting on someone’s lap with a finger in his mouth for an entire hour or enduring a little pain for fifteen minutes, surely anyone would choose the latter.

“Understood.”

Seogyeom had answered so confidently that he almost felt relieved when Namgung Yun agreed.

Then tension slowly coiled through his body.

He closed his eyes, bracing himself for the pain.

But nothing happened.

Not after a few seconds.

Not after a little longer.

When is he going to start?

Just as Seogyeom was about to call out to Namgung Yun, anxiety creeping into his voice, Namgung Yun spoke.

“It would be best to keep your eyes closed.”

A broad, firm hand settled against the back of Seogyeom’s neck.

Thinking the treatment was finally beginning, Seogyeom consciously relaxed.

Then—

His body was suddenly turned around.

His face was gently drawn forward.

Something pressed against his lips.

What…?

The instant his body stiffened in shock, a low voice echoed directly inside his mind.

Open your mouth. Our flesh must touch for me to transmit the medicinal potency.

He hadn’t heard the words with his ears.

Yet their meaning reached him with perfect clarity.

Sound transmission.

An advanced martial art said to be usable only by masters.

The unfamiliar sensation made Seogyeom’s lips part instinctively.

Namgung Yun patted him lightly on the waist, almost as though praising him.

Then a firm yet surprisingly soft tongue brushed gently against the roof of his mouth.

Only then did Seogyeom understand what Namgung Yun had meant by another method.

Fuck.

In trying to escape a finger, he’d stepped straight onto a much bigger landmine.

No, wait.

This is medical treatment.

It’s just treatment.

He was so flustered he felt like he might leap out of his own skin, but Seogyeom desperately tried to calm himself.

If he was going to be embarrassed either way, at least this way it would be over sooner.

…

Like hell it would.

The warm breath passing between their touching noses tickled his skin.

Every tiny movement felt painfully vivid.

There was no way he could possibly remain calm.

Overwhelmed by the unfamiliar sensation, Seogyeom squeezed his eyes shut.

He cautiously tried to push Namgung Yun’s tongue away with his own.

That only made everything worse.

This is… my first time…!

Technically, if the time he’d been unconscious counted, this might have been his second.

But to Seogyeom, this was his first real kiss.

People these days acted as though kissing was nothing special.

He knew plenty of people who formed deep relationships without even meeting face-to-face.

Seogyeom, however, had always been far removed from people who dated casually and moved on just as casually.

Not because he believed in some grand notion of destiny.

Not because he intended to cherish his first love until death.

There was only one reason.

He was afraid of being abandoned.

Seogyeom had never known his parents.

He had grown up in an orphanage.

Fortunately, the institution had been financially stable, so his circumstances had never been obvious from the outside.

The director had also been a warm and kind woman.

She had even given Seogyeom her own surname and carefully chosen his name.

But none of that had made him forget the truth.

To the adults, he was simply one child among countless others they were responsible for caring for.

So Seogyeom had learned to hide his emotions before he was even old enough to understand them.

When he fell and scraped his knees, he would bite his lower lip to keep himself from crying.

He never threw tantrums for attention.

He never cried just to make someone notice him.

The director praised him for being such a good child.

But Seogyeom had never been trying to be good.

He simply hadn’t wanted anyone to dislike him.

He wasn’t especially cute.

He wasn’t the type to charm adults with an adorable smile.

So he had done the only thing he knew how to do.

Become an obedient child who caused no trouble.

Never expect too much.

Never get close too easily.

Seogyeom had built those rules for himself.

Rules meant to protect him.

Physical contact had been one of them.

And now—

Namgung Yun had just shattered that rule into pieces.

This is the Seungjang acupoint.

The sudden voice inside his head pulled Seogyeom out of his memories and back into Namgung Yun’s arms.

After naming the acupoint, Namgung Yun rubbed the hollow beneath Seogyeom’s lower lip with the thumb that had been supporting his neck.

His voice remained solemn.

But the hand wrapped around Seogyeom’s waist and the tongue moving across the roof of his mouth were anything but restrained.

Namgung Yun gently stroked the inside of Seogyeom’s cheek.

Then, with a firm motion, he drew his finger up along the base of Seogyeom’s tongue.

Seogyeom’s heart began pounding.

“Mmph…”

The strange, ticklish sensation lingered.

It was somehow both unfamiliar and intensely intimate.

Seogyeom’s throat trembled involuntarily.

At the same time, warmth spread outward from the place where Namgung Yun’s hand touched him.

A little farther down is the Yeomcheon acupoint.

The warmth traveled downward, following the path to the hollow beneath his jaw.

It felt as though the energy was soothing his weakened body.

Yet the concentrated warmth also sent faint, ticklish shivers across his skin.

But what truly drove Seogyeom crazy was something else.

Continuing below the neck is the Cheondol acupoint.

At the center of the chest is the Danjung acupoint.

Every time Namgung Yun passed an acupoint, he traced the corresponding spot with his hand.

He wasn’t even applying much pressure.

Yet wherever those firm fingertips passed, Seogyeom’s skin seemed to flare as though a feverish flower had suddenly bloomed beneath it.

The situation inside his body was no different.

True to the nature of its origin, Namgung Yun’s energy was gentle yet overwhelmingly powerful.

It pushed deep into Seogyeom’s meridians and vital points, steadily making its way through his fragile body.