Black Cat, White Cat (2)
Han Bin furrowed his brow.
'A talisman just for seeing Father?'
That thought lasted only a moment before he nodded.
Memories from his past life had resurfaced.
Grinning, Han Bin accepted the talisman.
He left the trio behind and entered the patriarch's hall, but Paeng Kangwi was nowhere to be seen.
Then a side door opened, and a white-haired elder approached him.
The elder politely cupped his hands toward Han Bin, who tilted his head in confusion.
"Young master, you've arrived?"
Upon closer inspection, it was Yi Seolyeong, the chief steward of the Hebei Paeng Family.
In his past life, Han Bin had rarely seen him, so it took effort to recall his face.
Han Bin returned the salute.
"Steward, it's been a while."
Yi Seolyeong had held the position of chief steward since the time of the previous patriarch.
Even the family head couldn't treat him lightly.
At Han Bin's courteous demeanor, Yi Seolyeong's eyes narrowed slightly.
That lasted only a moment before he offered a silk pouch.
"Take this first."
"Yes, steward."
Han Bin quietly accepted the pouch.
Seeing this, Yi Seolyeong's eyes narrowed again.
No trace of curiosity showed in Han Bin's gaze as he took the silk pouch.
Yi Seolyeong asked,
"Aren't you curious?"
"I trust you'll explain if it's necessary, steward."
Yi Seolyeong's white eyebrows curved like a crescent moon.
There were rumors that the young man had lost his mind, which had worried him somewhat. But now, Han Bin exuded the calm aura of a seasoned Daoist cultivator after years of training. It was impressive.
Yi Seolyeong continued,
"Young master, open it."
"Yes, steward."
Han Bin quietly opened the silk pouch.
Inside was a letter and a lump of black metal.
Han Bin murmured softly,
"Could this metal be mukcheol?"
As Han Bin tilted his head, Yi Seolyeong smiled faintly.
"It is mukcheol."
"Yes, it is mukcheol."
Han Bin placed the fist-sized chunk of mukcheol back into the silk pouch.
Curiosity flickered in Yi Seolyeong's eyes once more.
Mukcheol was a rare ore worth five times its weight in gold.
Its value was immense, but more importantly, alloying it with ordinary iron produced a treasure sword.
This treasure sword served as the mark of a young patriarch candidate.
Both the first and second young masters had gone through this exact process.
Yi Seolyeong vividly remembered delivering the mukcheol to them.
Their hands had trembled uncontrollably, their faces unable to hide their overwhelming joy.
But Han Bin was different.
"Hoo."
Chief Steward Yi Seolyeong let out a long sigh without realizing it.
Yet Han Bin's gaze remained unshaken.
Maintaining such serene composure clearly indicated profound mental cultivation.
Under Yi Seolyeong's watchful eye, Han Bin slowly unfolded the letter.
After reading it, he spoke in a low voice.
"Jeong Cheolmin..."
Before Han Bin could finish, Yi Seolyeong replied,
"You know of him too, young master. He's the greatest master smith in Hebei."
"But isn't calling him the greatest in Hebei inaccurate?"
"What do you mean?"
"Shouldn't it be the greatest in the Central Plains?"
"Haha, he insists on being called Hebei's greatest. I've sent word to my old friend, so he'll do his utmost to forge your first cherished blade."
"Thank you, steward. But..."
Han Bin trailed off.
"Speak freely."
"May I have it made to my specifications?"
"Size and shape don't matter."
"Is this the patriarch's will?"
"It's family tradition, isn't it? Besides, it's your cherished blade—you decide."
Finishing his words, Yi Seolyeong observed Han Bin with eyes full of amusement.
Then he tilted his head.
No one receiving a sword from the patriarch would react this way.
Unable to hold back, Yi Seolyeong asked as he studied Han Bin's expression,
"Young master, do you understand the meaning of the mukcheol and this letter?"
"Of course."
"Ah."
Yi Seolyeong's mouth fell open.
The patriarch bestowing mukcheol and a letter meant entrusting the forging of a sword—officially naming one a young patriarch candidate.
Until now, the candidates had been the first and second young masters.
But suddenly, the youngest had been granted a sword.
For the youngest, who had no chance at the position, this was no blessing—it was a curse.
It might be fine for now, but once the first young master returned from the Justice Alliance and the competition truly began, Han Bin would become everyone's target.
In short, he'd be stripped bare.
In truth, Chief Steward Yi Seolyeong couldn't understand the patriarch's decision.
As Yi Seolyeong let out a sigh of regret, Han Bin smiled faintly and spoke.
"As the saying goes, 'Man proposes, heaven disposes.'"
Han Bin's words and expression seemed to pierce right through Yi Seolyeong's thoughts, snapping him back to attention.
Silence blanketed the hall for a moment.
Finally, Yi Seolyeong spoke.
"Young master, take care."
"Thank you for your concern, steward. Ah, one moment!"
Yi Seolyeong paused at Han Bin's call.
"Yes?"
"This is a talisman I got from the market. For your health."
"Ah... Thank you, young master."
Chief Steward Yi Seolyeong couldn't hide his upturned lips.
From the crumpled yellow talisman, he glimpsed Han Bin's sincerity.
Of course, it was really Cheolno's sincerity, but Yi Seolyeong had no way of knowing that.
Han Bin bowed slightly and turned to leave. Watching his retreating figure, Yi Seolyeong sighed.
"Sigh, what a talent."
He couldn't fathom why people called such a talent mad.
* * *
As Han Bin emerged from the patriarch's hall, Cheolno, who had been waiting out front, rushed over.
"Young master, since nothing happened, the talisman must have worked."
"Yeah, it did."
It wasn't a lie.
From the steward's expression, it felt like he'd stolen a sliver of the man's heart.
Curious, Cheolno pressed,
"Young master, what happened in there?"
Han Bin shrugged and showed him the silk pouch.
Cheolno tilted his head, but So Daeseop, watching from behind, hurried over.
He moved so fast someone might mistake it for Phantom Shift.
"My lord, does this pouch mean...?"
"Yes, it means I'm a young patriarch candidate."
Suddenly, So Daeseop clenched his fist and shouted,
"My lord, huzzah!"
Sim Miho poked his side.
"Calm down, Captain."
"Deputy, what do you...?"
"The young master becoming a candidate means we fight the First Young Master's guards and the Second Young Master's new escorts."
"Now that you mention it..."
So Daeseop's face drained of color in an instant.
Seeing them, Han Bin smiled brightly.
"Don't worry! You think I'd let you die?"
At his words, So Daeseop's color returned.
"So you're confident you'll become young patriarch?"
"Nope."
"..."
So Daeseop and Sim Miho gaped.
Confirming their expressions, Han Bin continued nonchalantly,
"If things go south, we bolt together. What's life without a little fun?"
"Gasp."
"Young master!"
As everyone stood slack-jawed, Han Bin bounced the pouch with the mukcheol and strode ahead.
The guards protecting the hall widened their eyes at the sight.
"Did you hear?"
"You think I'm deaf? The Fourth Young Master clearly got a sword."
"What madness is this for Hebei?"
"Right?"
"So now there are three young patriarch candidates?"
"Yep."
"Gotta pick the right side from here on out."
"Pfft."
"Why laugh?"
"You gonna side with the Fourth Young Master?"
"Nah, not that."
"Then why the fuss? This isn't change."
"What is it, then?"
"It's throwing the Fourth into the fire."
"Yeah, when you put it that way. Still, it's earth-shaking news."
"Can't argue there."
* * *
That afternoon, Han Bin's group packed to head to the smithy for the sword.
The smithy was fifty ri north.
Close if you thought about it, far if you didn't.
Sim Miho asked as she watched Han Bin pack meticulously,
"My lord, why pack so thoroughly? It's not that far."
"Who knows."
"Fifty ri—with lightness skill..."
"Deputy Sim."
"Yes, my lord."
"You know my lightness skill level, right?"
"Ah."
Sim Miho let out a gasp and quickly turned away.
She didn't know when the sparks might fly.
She glanced at Han Bin's luggage.
Fifty ri was half a day's trip for a first-rate warrior.
But his pack?
Jerky and even ink and brushes? Something ominous crept up on her.
Then Han Bin called out,
"All set—let's go."
"Yes, my lord."
Sim Miho reflexively cupped her hands.
These past few days, she'd realized Han Bin was nothing like the rumors.
His martial realm was low, but he possessed unfathomable depth and mysterious aides.
And he held grudges.
Then Han Bin's voice continued,
"Deputy Sim, you weren't cursing me in your head, were you?"
"No!"
Sim Miho shook her head vigorously.
* * *
That afternoon.
Han Bin, leaving the Hebei Paeng Family, arrived at a pawnshop.
So Daeseop asked,
"My lord, why here?"
"Got something to pawn. Wait here a bit."
Worried, So Daeseop asked again,
"You're not pawning the mukcheol, right?"
"Secret!"
Han Bin finished and headed inside, fiddling with his waist pouch. So Daeseop and Sim Miho hung their heads.
Without a word, they worried their cowardly lord's paranoia had flared up.
Silence hung over the group.
As they stared at the pawnshop entrance, Sim Miho spoke,
"He's not planning to pawn the mukcheol and run, is he?"
"No way. Our lord's changed so much lately—he wouldn't... no, surely not..."
So Daeseop trailed off.
He chanted it like a mantra, but the bad feeling lingered.
Cheolno just chuckled at the pair.
About the time for a cup of tea had passed since Han Bin entered.
Han Bin emerged with a bright smile.
One thing had changed.
The bulge at his waist—the mukcheol—was gone.
Under their scorching glares, rivaling the sun, Han Bin shrugged.
"Why the stares?"
"Where's the mukcheol pouch?"
As Sim Miho narrowed her eyes, Han Bin grinned.
"Pawed it."
"What?"
"My lord, you pawned the mukcheol?"
Bad feelings always hit the mark.
Sim Miho's voice trembled slightly.
So Daeseop's eyes bulged as he asked,
"My lord! You pawned that at a pawnshop? Why on earth...?"
His voice was so loud it drew stares. Han Bin sighed and gestured.
"Captain So, Deputy Sim—calm down."
So Daeseop took a deep breath and asked again,
"Why pawn it? This has never happened in the Hebei Paeng Family. Why..."
So Daeseop couldn't continue.