172. The Guardian of the Wabul (2)
The Red Bloodstone was an imperial gift Han Bin had obtained thanks to his fateful encounter hunting the Heavenly Thunder Wolf in Absol Valley.
Gong Son-su had been a scholar in the imperial court until just ten years ago.
He seemed to recognize the Red Bloodstone at a glance.
But what was strange was his reaction.
For a man who had even served as the emperor's teacher, was he really this shocked over a single Red Bloodstone?
Gong Son-su must have received dozens of gifts comparable to it at least.
That was why his reaction felt so off.
Han Bin silently watched Gong Son-su's trembling gaze.
The scene was like time itself had frozen.
Only after the moon reflected in Gong Son-su's eyes had shifted noticeably did Han Bin cautiously ask,
"Elder, what's wrong?"
"Could you be the fourth young master of the Hebei Paeng Family?"
"Yes, that's right. But why are you so surprised?"
In times like these, it was best to be direct.
Han Bin tilted his head, peering at Gong Son-su.
Gong Son-su closed his eyes, seemingly lost in thought for a moment.
"My master's prophecy was true, after all."
His master's prophecy?
Han Bin's head tilted slightly at the out-of-left-field remark.
"Your master? And what's this about a prophecy?"
"Before my master departed, he left me with one request. I've been staying in Jangun-hyeon to fulfill it."
"……."
Han Bin decided to keep listening attentively.
Once he realized Han Bin was the Hebei Paeng Family's fourth young master, Gong Son-su's attitude had shifted dramatically.
It wasn't hostility—it was goodwill.
He might not have known Han Bin in his disguised form, but he seemed to have thoroughly investigated the identity of Paeng Hanbin, the fourth young master of the Hebei Paeng Family.
Otherwise, he couldn't have that kind of friendly gaze.
Ignoring Han Bin's growing suspicions, Gong Son-su continued.
"He said that if I guarded the Wabul in Jangun-hyeon, eventually a martial artist bearing the Red Bloodstone would come."
"And you're saying that's me?"
"That's what I think."
Gong Son-su's words were firm.
Han Bin spotted a hole in his story.
Had he left something unsaid? Or overlooked an inconsistency?
Leaning forward, Han Bin drew closer.
Then, politely yet discreetly, he posed his question.
"Think about it, Elder. The Red Bloodstone may be an imperial treasure, but it's not exclusive to the court, is it?"
"True enough. What are you getting at?"
Gong Son-su rested his chin on his hand, fingers interlaced, gazing at Han Bin as if ready to answer anything.
With a serious expression, Han Bin pressed on.
"If it's not unique to the imperial family, what's so special about a martial artist with a Red Bloodstone showing up in Jangun-hyeon?"
"But here's the thing……."
"Yes, go on."
"My master taught me how to identify that martial artist."
"How?"
"He said the martial artist would send a flower. A swordsman sending a flower? That's odd, isn't it? At first, I thought it might be a warrior from the Volcanic Sect, since they come to mind with flowers and martial artists."
"Hm, yeah, the Volcanic Sect buried in plum blossoms is the obvious association."
"But then I heard the imperial family had bestowed a Red Bloodstone upon you recently, and I wondered……."
"It's true I have the Red Bloodstone, but I never sent any flowers."
"Didn't you send some today?"
"Me, sending flowers?"
"Myeonghu, show him."
Gong Son-su nodded subtly to his grandson.
Receiving the signal, Gong Son Myeonghu placed the pouch containing the iron coins on the table.
He then quietly arranged the iron coins in sequence.
He has arrived.
The message formed by the iron coins was simple.
Han Bin narrowed his eyes.
It was the same writing he'd glimpsed earlier in the space beneath the Buddha statue.
As Han Bin focused on the characters, Gong Son Myeonghu spoke.
"Try placing the iron coin you brought earlier, young master."
"Here it is."
Han Bin set down the iron coin inscribed with the character for "flower" (flower).
Gong Son-su pointed at it with a smile.
"That iron coin there—isn't it the flower you sent us? To me, it clearly looks like a flower."
"Ah."
Han Bin let out an exclamation, momentarily at a loss for words.
He'd only thought of actual flowers, not interpreting a written character as one.
Before their conversation in the pavilion, Han Bin had plenty of reasons to be wary of them.
But the situation had taken a strange turn.
He had become the very person they were waiting for.
Han Bin waved his hand dismissively.
"Even if I'm the one you've been waiting for, Elder, what difference does it make?"
"There's something I need to hand over."
"Then give it to me now."
Han Bin's eyes gleamed.
Whatever it was, it could very well be what he sought.
Gong Son-su chuckled softly and continued.
"I can't give it to you here."
"Then when can you?"
"You're impatient. Even if I gave it to you, you couldn't take it with you. No need to rush."
"It's not an object, then."
"Sharp one, aren't you?"
Gong Son-su grinned broadly, moistening his lips with tea before looking up.
With an expression of relief, he leisurely gazed at the moon while chatting with Gong Son Myeonghu.
Afterward, Han Bin quietly listened to their conversation.
But there was no new information.
Whatever they planned to show him, it would be revealed soon enough.
* * *
Gong Son-su was an exceedingly cautious man.
Only after thoroughly confirming Han Bin's identity as the Hebei Paeng Family's fourth young master did he rise from the pavilion.
The place he led them to was the Gong Son Family's western annex.
A three-story building housing the books he had collected over his lifetime.
Gong Son-su's footsteps halted at the end of the first-floor library.
At the library's end hung a curtain, seemingly to conceal something.
Beside it stood a table and a few chairs.
At Gong Son-su's nod, Gong Son Myeonghu carefully placed a tea set on the table.
"Let's finish our tea first and talk."
"As you wish, Elder."
At the table about three steps from the wall, Han Bin, Gong Son-su, and Gong Son Myeonghu brewed tea for the second time.
As the aroma of tea filled the air, Gong Son-su glanced at the curtain.
It seemed he was now ready to explain the object behind it.
Han Bin swallowed hard, and Gong Son-su rose from his seat.
He faced the curtained wall and beckoned to Gong Son Myeonghu, who waited nearby.
Gong Son Myeonghu cautiously approached the right corner of the wall.
There hung a long cord, strikingly similar to the one Gong Son Myeonghu, disguised as a pageboy, had pulled earlier.
Glancing at Gong Son-su for final confirmation, Gong Son Myeonghu tugged the cord, just as he had in the space beneath the Wabul.
At the same moment, the curtain slid downward.
Whoosh.
With the curtain gone, the wall was revealed.
On the wall was a mural that seemed to emanate spiritual energy.
Gong Son-su pointed at it.
"This is the item I mentioned."
"Strange painting. Is it one of the Four Symbols?"
Han Bin pointed at the image, but Gong Son-su waved it off.
"Only the dragon among the Four Symbols is there, isn't it?"
"True. And looking closely, it's not an Azure Dragon—it's a Crimson Dragon."
"Exactly. A Crimson Dragon bursting through blue clouds. Crimson Dragon—doesn't that ring a bell?"
"Crimson Dragon? Nothing comes to mind right away."
"You're said to be the descendant of the Crimson Dragon Great Hero, aren't you?"
"Ahem."
Han Bin coughed involuntarily.
He knew they'd investigated him and his circle in detail, but he hadn't expected them to dig this deep.
For some reason, they seemed to trust Paeng Hanbin, the fourth young master of the Hebei Paeng Family.
Now that his identity was verified, he could fully earn that trust.
Just what was their true nature?
Simply famous scholars?
Imperial tutors?
Or members of the Public Gate?
To Han Bin's questioning gaze, Gong Son-su and Gong Son Myeonghu responded only with smiles.
They treated him with the warmth of comrades who would entrust their backs in battle.
The more they did, the greater Han Bin's doubts grew.
Noticing his expression, Gong Son-su spoke.
"No need to worry. I learned it through the leadership of the unorthodox sects, but few know. You're safe."
"Understood."
Han Bin nodded.
Well, anyone gathering info through the Wabul clearly had intelligence rivaling the Haomen or Beggar Clan.
Grateful they were allies, Han Bin focused on the mural.
The mural was remarkably simple.
Blue clouds and a red dragon.
At the very bottom lay what appeared to be a scale shed by the red dragon.
One could even say it abstractly depicted Han Bin's current appearance.
Han Bin believed this mural held some fateful opportunity others couldn't discern.
The one who left it might be the same figure who planted arrangements in the Henan Jeong Family and Huangbo Family.
A fateful opportunity?
An arrangement?
Or a prophecy of the future?
Any would do.
Han Bin wanted to gain something from this mural.
Narrowing his eyes and concentrating on it, he then closed them.
He gently stroked the mural with his hand.
But no traces of formulas emanated from it.
After meticulously caressing the mural for a long while, Han Bin opened his eyes.
Glancing sideways, he saw Gong Son-su and Gong Son Myeonghu watching him with eyes full of anticipation.
What exactly did they expect from him?
For now, unraveling the mural's secret came first.
Han Bin sat back down and looked at Gong Son-su and Gong Son Myeonghu.
It was time to get clues from them.
Han Bin asked Gong Son-su,
"About that master of yours."
"My master? What do you want to know?"
"Did he say anything else when he left this mural?"
"No. He said the fated one would unravel its secret in due time."
"Hm. So you're absolutely convinced that fated one is me."
"Coincidences like this can't be explained by any knowledge I possess. I have to believe."
"For now, I have no idea what this mural means. Who exactly is your master? The teacher of an imperial tutor like yourself? I can't even guess."
"I don't know either. He contacts me through the Wabul these days; it's been ages since I last saw his face."
"Then the Shadowless Step was passed down by him too?"
"The Shadowless Step is the Gong Son Family's secret art."
"Gasp, does that mean the Gong Son Family is the hidden face of the Public Gate?"
"Public Gate? That's a bit different, but the Public Gate we established is one of the Confucian schools."
"Confucian?"
"Indeed. What do you think the 'public' in Public Gate means?"
"Public Gate uses the characters for 'beg' and 'gate,' right? Like the saying that to Public Gate disciples, all sect gates are empty."
Han Bin's questions were blunt.
As he said, to the Public Gate, other sects' gates might as well not exist.
They were called the Public Gate because they pilfered from other sects as freely as entering their own homes—like rogues of the martial world.
But it seemed there was another meaning.
Stroking his beard as he regarded Han Bin, Gong Son-su gave a meaningful smile.
"I figured as much. The true meaning of 'public' lies in 'public' as in communal."
To make it clearer, Gong Son-su dipped his hand in a teacup, then wrote characters on the table with the water.
Public Gate (public gate)