The Guardian of the Wabul (1)
At the same time, the spot where the errand boy had been standing suddenly caved in.
A vanishing figure.
Han Bin quickly reached out and thought.
Pressure point?
Or a formula?
Pfsh!
Han Bin chose the formula.
The moment Han Bin struck the errand boy's shoulder where the formula flickered, the boy vanished downward, and the caved-in floor sealed shut in an instant.
But Han Bin looked up into the empty air with satisfaction.
Confirming sword stance with Dragon Eye.
Acquired Human-grade formula: Gold (gold).
Gold?
And Human-grade at that?
His surprise was fleeting. Nodding with pleasure, Han Bin now looked down at the floor.
Fortunately, the errand boy had taken the leather pouch containing the iron coins laced with Thousand-Li Pursuit Fragrance.
From here on, he would track the scent.
Han Bin crouched with a serious expression, twitching his nose.
Staring fixedly at the floor without even blinking, Han Bin suddenly stood up.
He had caught the direction of the scent.
At that moment, a faint noise began to echo from somewhere.
Kkiiik, griik.
What was that?
Tilting his head, Han Bin's eyes caught a strange sight.
The ceiling was starting to shake.
Kkiiik, griik.
The sound rang out again.
Looking closely, it wasn't shaking—it was tilting.
Han Bin swiftly grabbed a torch from the wall.
With a light puff of dust, he vanished from the spot.
Sasasak.
A moment later.
Han Bin reappeared in a dead-end passage.
The path ended, but there was a round exit above.
Han Bin quickly emerged through it.
The instant he tried to survey his surroundings, a thick voice struck his ears.
"Who are you?"
"……."
Han Bin silently regarded the man.
There was a chance this had nothing to do with the vanished errand boy.
The man appeared to be in his mid-thirties, holding his scabbard thrust forward.
His martial realm was Peak.
Around him, ten warriors stood ready to draw their swords.
In that instant, a scent tickled Han Bin's nose.
His target was still here.
And very close.
Grinning, Han Bin said,
"I'm here for my money."
In a way, this wasn't a lie.
Veins bulged on the back of the hand gripping the scabbard.
"What money? You break into someone's home looking for money? You're clearly a thief."
"The thief isn't me—he's somewhere around here. The one who stole my money."
"Nonsense. Do you even know where you are, breaking in to steal?"
"Where is here, exactly?"
As Han Bin tilted his head, the warrior snapped back angrily.
"You've truly walked into your own grave."
"Hm, it'd be nice if you could answer a bit more politely…."
That was when it happened.
A young scholar about Han Bin's age approached slowly from behind.
"Cheongmyeong, stand down."
At that voice, the warrior quickly retreated.
All eyes turned to the scholar with his clear, bright tone.
The scholar walked forward and stood before Han Bin.
"I am Gong Son Myeonghu of the Gong Son family. What brings you to our Gong Son family?"
"……."
Han Bin rubbed his nose and tilted his head.
A faint trace of Thousand-Li Pursuit Fragrance emanated from the scholar calling himself Gong Son Myeonghu.
Gong Son family?
Racking his brain briefly for memories of the Gong Son family, Han Bin continued.
"Might you be related to Master Gong Son-su, the Bamboo Breaker?"
Han Bin asked as politely as possible.
The name Gong Son-su, the Bamboo Breaker, was famous not in the martial world but among Confucian scholars.
The moniker came from his unyielding conviction: better to break than to bend.
To Han Bin's question, the scholar replied with a surprised look.
"He is my grandfather."
"Your grandfather?"
Han Bin's eyes widened.
He had asked because the Gong Son surname was uncommon, but this was the Gong Son family he remembered.
The Gong Son family wasn't a martial clan—it was a scholarly one.
A family that produced emperors' tutors for generations, tied to events in Jangun-hyeon?
Even digging through his past life's memories, the current situation made no sense.
Then Gong Son Myeonghu asked,
"By the way, what do you mean by coming for your money?"
"Someone swiped my iron coins."
"Did you see them take them?"
"Of course I did—that's why I chased them. I clearly offered them to the Buddha, but someone pocketed them. So I followed the trail here."
"Iron coins… How do you plan to find common iron coins with no names on them?"
"I've never lost anything of mine before. I'd know it if I saw it."
"Then shall we let you look?"
Finishing his words, Gong Son Myeonghu clapped his hands.
Clap, clap!
At once, a maid approached from behind, carrying a pouch.
Han Bin stared at them in stunned disbelief.
The pouch the maid carried was identical to the one the errand boy had taken.
And the scent wafting from it matched exactly the fragrance Han Bin had applied to his iron coins.
Yet they presented it so casually?
The maid set the pouch down before Han Bin.
Thud.
Gong Son Myeonghu said,
"Go ahead and look."
Gong Son Myeonghu's expression remained impassive, arms crossed.
Han Bin briefly sorted through the events so far.
Did taking this pouch make the Gong Son family guilty?
Could he blame them even if Gong Son Myeonghu was the errand boy?
What Han Bin sought wasn't the errand boy, but the item targeted by mysterious forces.
A treasure, perhaps a manual, or an elixir.
From the situation, it was clearly connected to the Gong Son family.
So he needed answers here.
To get them, he had to engage in a battle of wits with Gong Son Myeonghu from now on.
Han Bin opened the pouch and precisely picked out the iron coin marked with the character for "flower."
"Here’s my iron coin."
Han Bin showed it to the scholar and tucked it into his bosom.
Gong Son Myeonghu's head tilted slightly as he watched Han Bin casually reclaim his coin.
Han Bin didn't miss the subtle change in expression.
He quickly cupped his fists.
"I've found my item, so I'll be going now."
Gong Son Myeonghu's eyes widened at Han Bin's perfectly shifted demeanor.
"Please wait a moment."
"No need. On second thought, it wasn't a thief—it was a misunderstanding with the Wabul's caretaker. Well then…."
"Caretaker? Wait, young master, please hold on."
So urgent was he that Gong Son Myeonghu's voice trembled slightly.
Seizing the opening, Han Bin pressed on.
"No need to panic. There's no rule saying Confucian scholars can't have an intelligence network. The imperial court might dislike it, though."
"……."
"You think I'd run to the palace and snitch? I'm not that kind of guy."
Han Bin waved his hand dismissively and turned away.
He walked casually toward the visible main gate.
Step, step.
Then a breeze brushed his ear.
Swish.
Gong Son Myeonghu appeared before him.
He looked at Han Bin, unable to hide his flustered expression.
Seeing Gong Son Myeonghu's quivering lips, Han Bin spoke first.
"Muyeongbo?"
This was a low voice only Gong Son Myeonghu could hear.
"H-how…."
Gong Son Myeonghu trailed off, staring at Han Bin.
Confirming his expression, Han Bin continued.
"Any martial artist would recognize that footwork. But Muyeongbo in a renowned scholar's household? That's a bit odd. Still, your secret's safe with me."
Han Bin flashed a broad smile.
Muyeongbo was one of the supreme lightness skills, comparable to Gugeol Ship-pal-bo.
Its name derived from movements so swift no shadow was visible.
It was a one-on-one transmission art from the Kongkongmun, the thieves' sect.
Of course, Han Bin hadn't seen Muyeongbo in his past life.
The Kongkongmun had vanished from the rivers and lakes long ago.
Han Bin was certain from Gong Son Myeonghu's reaction that it was indeed Muyeongbo.
Yet someone in the Gong Son family—home to Gong Son-su, the emperor's tutor—practiced Muyeongbo!
By now, Han Bin's curiosity about the Gong Son family's true nature overshadowed the missing treasure.
He decided to prod Gong Son Myeonghu a bit more.
"Nice lightness skill show. Well, I'm off!"
As Han Bin strolled away leisurely, the gate suddenly opened.
Creak.
Through the wide-open main gate walked an elderly man with flecks of white hair.
He didn't seem like a martial artist at first glance, but his presence was anything but ordinary.
His expression was so thoroughly schooled that not a drop of blood would spill even if pricked with a needle.
His sleeve hems were so stiff they could pass for blade edges.
Han Bin recognized him as the great scholar Gong Son-su, former imperial tutor.
Han Bin quietly cupped his fists toward him.
"Greetings, Elder Gong Son-su."
"Ho ho. How did you know it was me?"
"With your upright character matched by your upright attire, it'd be my eyes that are faulty if I didn't recognize you."
Raising his head, Han Bin wore an invisible smile.
At that, Gong Son-su glanced sidelong at Gong Son Myeonghu.
"What happened, Myeonghu?"
"Grandfather, well…."
Gong Son Myeonghu quietly explained his encounter with Han Bin here, presenting himself—not the errand boy—as the one who met him.
After hearing the story, Gong Son-su dismissed the others.
* * *
A moment later.
In a secluded pavilion of the Gong Son estate, Han Bin, Gong Son Myeonghu, and Gong Son-su sat facing each other, steaming teacups before them.
Once the maid's footsteps faded into the distance, Gong Son-su spoke.
"Why were you tailing Myeonghu?"
"That's a secret."
"A secret? You enter a tiger's den and keep secrets?"
"I know it's a tiger's den, but it's one I can leave anytime."
"Leave? You think you can?"
"Of course. As long as you keep your wits, you can always escape a tiger's den alive."
"That's just an old tale to give false hope."
"Haha, if you say so, Elder, I'll believe it. But even a tiger won't bother with a tiny sparrow."
"So you're confident in your lightness skill. You might escape, but can your family?"
"……."
Han Bin silently met Gong Son-su's gaze.
No killing intent, no jest—no emotion at all.
Gong Son-su was clearly playing imperial politics, the kind only the court would employ.
Politics was about taking what you could and giving what you must.
The problem was, what he wanted was clear, but Han Bin had nothing to give.
Forcing an awkward smile, Han Bin said,
"Can you even figure out which family I'm from?"
"Shall I take a guess?"
A change finally crossed Gong Son-su's face.
It was the look of a tiger eyeing a puppy.
Han Bin tilted his head.
This was no leisure a scholar facing a martial artist should show.
Gong Son-su rummaged in his bosom and pulled out items.
Thud.
Thud.
Placing several objects on the table, Gong Son-su gestured toward Han Bin.
As if to say, go ahead and check.
Seeing the items, Han Bin gave an awkward smile and scratched the back of his head.
"I got done in. When did you pickpocket me from my own bosom, Elder?"
The items Gong Son-su had taken were from Han Bin's own possession.
Gong Son-su continued.
"Didn't you already know?"
"Busted, huh?"
"Hand over my item too."
Han Bin pulled a scroll from his bosom and placed it on the table.
Han Bin went on.
"Are you truly Gong Son-su, the real former imperial tutor?"
"And what are you? How did you rummage through my bosom?"
Another shift in Gong Son-su's expression.
This time, curiosity flickered.
Han Bin and Gong Son-su had each pilfered items from the other's bosom using deft sleight-of-hand techniques.
And now they laid them out before each other.
Silence fell briefly, and Gong Son Myeonghu stared at the bright moon, utterly baffled by the turn of events.
Then an untimely breeze swept through the pavilion.
Whoosh.
One of the pouches taken from Han Bin's bosom toppled sideways, spilling its contents.
Roll, roll.
It was the crimson bloodstone bestowed upon Han Bin by the emperor.
In that instant, Gong Son-su's eyes widened.