Chapter 24: He Who Ties It Unties It (4)
Having received his orders, Hanbin left the family head's chamber with the chief steward.
At that moment, Paeng Kangwi called him back once more.
"Don't go straight there. Stop by the guest hall first."
"Yes, family head."
"And make sure to change your clothes."
Paeng Kangwi emphasized again, pointing at Hanbin's tattered upper garment, which was little more than a rag.
Hanbin bowed his head.
"Yes, family head."
Paeng Kangwi addressed everyone.
"Today's meeting ends here!"
With that, the elders and division heads rose and departed.
Once everyone had left, Paeng Kangwi turned to Paeng Daewi, the law enforcement division leader who had been watching from the side.
"Law enforcement leader!"
"Yes, brother."
"Has that boy ever called me 'father' before?"
Paeng Kangwi was pointing at the spot where Hanbin had just been standing.
Paeng Daewi grinned.
"Not that I know of."
"Has the youngest always been like this?"
"He seems to have changed lately, brother."
"Starting today, I'm entering secluded training. Handle things in my stead, brother."
"Ah."
Paeng Daewi's face twisted in dismay, but Paeng Kangwi pretended not to notice and headed toward the ancestral hall.
As Hanbin walked to the guest hall with the chief steward, So Daeseop hurriedly caught up from behind.
"My lord!"
Hanbin glanced back to see So Daeseop standing there, pale as a ghost and utterly stunned.
"What's wrong, So Daeju?"
"A-Are you alright?"
"I'm fine. And don't make a fuss over a scratch that some spit will heal."
"How is that a scratch some spit will heal?"
"Exactly."
Cheolno, who had rushed over late, nodded with teary eyes.
Hanbin gave them an exasperated look.
"I'm in a hurry. We'll talk later."
"My lord, what do we do with this?"
So Daeseop held up a heavy money pouch.
It was the silver taels collected from the recent sparring matches.
Hanbin grinned widely.
"Save it for the feast. Hold onto it for me, So Daeju."
"A feast in this situation...?"
Before So Daeseop could finish, Hanbin turned to Yi Seolyeong, the chief steward.
"You should join us for the feast too, Chief Steward."
"Hoho, would it be alright for me to attend?"
He didn't seem opposed. Hanbin replied,
"Of course. You're more than welcome."
So Daeseop, dumbfounded by their exchange, stared up at the sky.
Hanbin then turned to Cheolno beside him with a serious expression.
"Cheolno. One favor."
"Speak, young master."
The word "favor" hadn't come up in ages, so Cheolno responded with unusual deference.
Satisfied, Hanbin continued,
"Prepare a red martial robe."
"A red martial robe?"
Cheolno tilted his head.
The Paeng family did have red robes, but their standard colors were gray or blue.
No upright, prestigious faction wore red martial robes.
Seeming to read his confusion, Hanbin explained,
"I'll be getting blood on me a lot from now on. Red won't show stains as much."
"Young master!"
Cheolno let out a shriek that could pierce eardrums, but Hanbin waved it off casually and headed to the guest hall with the chief steward.
Watching Hanbin walk away, Cheolno turned to So Daeseop.
His eyes screamed, Is this normal?
So Daeseop shook his head.
Not normal at all.
So Daeseop couldn't wrap his head around today's events.
Just recently, the youngest young master fainted at the sight of blood.
Overcoming that alone had seemed impressive.
And he'd been so moved by Hanbin's actions that he'd sworn true loyalty, believing in his warm heart and sharp wits—not his martial prowess.
But this level?
So Daeseop couldn't tear his eyes from Hanbin's receding figure.
Cheolno was no different.
In one corner of the Hebei Paeng family's guest hall sat several pairs of sharp, gleaming eyes.
The sharpest among them belonged to a woman who spoke in an irritated tone.
"When the hell is he coming? It's been two full hours already. Are they just ignoring our family?"
"We've sent word, so please wait just a moment longer, lady."
The Mu Sword Clan's chief steward placated Musoryul carefully.
He prayed she'd handle the business without causing a scene.
The trouble had started when her younger brother, Mu Sowi, came home beaten by his fiancée, Paeng Hanbin.
Not even a proper spar—a sneak attack, from what he'd heard.
The Mu clan had already been looking for an excuse to break off the engagement.
And now the Paeng family had handed them one on a platter.
Yet even after arriving, they'd been left waiting silently for two hours.
Eying Musoryul's increasingly sour expression, the Mu Sword Clan's chief steward said,
"Lady, as the family head instructed, just announce the broken engagement and leave."
His face bore a single word: uneasy.
His mission was to end this cleanly, without escalating into a clan dispute.
Truth be told, no one in the Mu clan opposed dissolving the engagement—it was clearly a loss for them.
Musoryul grumbled reluctantly,
"Fine, I get it, Chief Steward Jang. Why would I stick around the Paeng family for scraps? We'll wrap it up neatly and go."
At that moment, the guest hall doors opened, and a tall man strode in.
A man who stood out far too much.
He wore a red martial robe.
Pale skin against crimson fabric.
He looked like a gisaeng's pretty boy.
Or perhaps a clown.
As the mysterious man appeared, the Mu Sword Clan's chief steward rose and asked,
"Who might you be...?"
Before he could finish, the man spoke.
"I'm Paeng Hanbin. I heard you were looking for me, so I've come."
Musoryul narrowed her eyes and stood at Hanbin's greeting, her hostility plain on her face.
"Why have you come, young master? I requested an audience with the family head."
"If the Mu Sword Clan's family head had come, my father would have received you. But you're not the family head, are you?"
It was proper etiquette between clans, leaving Musoryul unable to retort.
Instead, she sized him up and sneered.
"Hmph. Then why were you late? Did you get beaten somewhere on the way? And what the hell is with that outfit?"
"My apologies, but I took a minor injury during a spar."
Musoryul glared, scanning him.
His face was fine, but scratches marred his hands, neck, and elsewhere.
She smirked viciously.
"Minor? Looks like you've been getting thrashed."
Her words stabbed relentlessly, not just at his wounds but his pride.
Hanbin grinned.
If she knew he'd faced five swordsmen, she wouldn't dare mock him.
Composing himself, Hanbin said,
"I've been granted full authority by the family head, so speak to me."
He gazed politely at Musoryul as he presented the matter.
Rumors called her the North's top beauty, and her looks lived up to it.
But she was a woman laced with venom and ambition.
Hanbin eyed the hairpin in her hair.
Gleaming against her silky locks, it wasn't mere jewelry.
From his past life's memories, she wielded it as a weapon in battle.
As Hanbin admired her hairpin, Musoryul spoke.
"Hmph, full authority from the family head?"
She snorted again, glancing arrogantly at Yi Seolyeong, the Paeng clan's chief steward beside Hanbin, and jerked her chin.
Is what he says true?
Even the gray-haired Yi Seolyeong bristled at her haughty attitude and replied impassively,
"The family head permitted it. I'm here to handle the proceedings."
"So that's how it is?"
Musoryul alternated glances between Hanbin and Yi Seolyeong, rubbing her temple.
Hanbin prompted,
"If you have business, please state it quickly."
Musoryul's eyes narrowed at his words.
Pretending ignorance after beating her brother only fueled her rage.
"You really don't know?"
"That's why I'm asking."
"Why did you harm my brother?"
"I had a feeling..."
Hanbin trailed off deliberately, and Musoryul pressed on with growing smugness.
"What do you mean?"
"Even a flea has pride. You can't just blurt it out like that."
"A flea? You call that an answer?"
Musoryul's eyebrows twitched.
Ignoring her expression, Hanbin continued,
"Everyone knows he was terrorizing Stone Tiger Sect and got rightfully beaten in a fair spar. What's your angle in dredging up his thuggery again?"
He emphasized rightfully.
"Rightful? You think you rightfully defeated our young master? Unbelievable."
"Why not?"
"You, the so-called weakest in Hebei? Defeating our young master?"
"It's the truth."
"Prove it."
"How?"
"Spar with me. If you win, I'll believe you."
The two chief stewards' jaws dropped.
They exchanged glances, signaling to intervene.
"L-Lady."
"Young master."
The stewards tried to stop Hanbin and Musoryul simultaneously.
Hanbin snorted inwardly.
Musoryul clearly sought revenge for her brother's defeat.
Breaking the engagement? Just announce it.
But she was pushing for a spar.
On paper, she'd crush him.
In other words, she intended to thrash Hanbin.
Yi Seolyeong fidgeted like a cat on a hot tin roof.
He even stood, hands out to block.
"Absolutely not."
Yi Seolyeong's refusal had a different nuance.
Having witnessed the prior spar, he favored Hanbin's odds.
But the guest hall physician had advised a week of rest.
A spar in that state?
Yi Seolyeong hurriedly tried to reveal the truth and cancel it.
"Hear me out. Our young master is..."
"One moment, Chief Steward."
Hanbin cut him off.
And eyed Musoryul with an amused grin.
"I despise unproductive spars."
"Unproductive?"
"Gotta be something worth moving for, right?"
Yi Seolyeong's eyes widened at Hanbin's words.
It mirrored the situation before the five swordsmen's spar.
He reassessed Hanbin.
Far from just warm-hearted, he was shrewdly pragmatic. Realist seemed etched on his forehead.
As Yi Seolyeong reevaluated him, a deep furrow formed on Musoryul's brow.
"A wager, then?"
"Yes."
"Winner takes all? Your treatment of my brother, our engagement—everything. I can't stand weak men anyway."
She swept her hair back and fixed Hanbin with a stare.
Hanbin shrugged.
"Better to cut ties sooner. Shall we head to the training ground?"
He nodded slightly and exited the guest hall.
Musoryul followed right after, leaving the two stewards staring at the ceiling as if the sky had fallen.
Moments later, Hanbin faced Musoryul in the main training arena.
Tall for a woman, with long arms, pale skin accentuating her beauty.
But those limbs were weapons for the sword-wielding Musoryul.
Her skill level? Peak realm entry.
Comparable to Second Young Master Paeng Kyungbin.
Could she have beaten him in a fair spar?