Black and White Martial Emperor

Yeon Hojeong’s party made it back to the clan in twenty-one days.

Amazingly, they looked wrecked. That was because they’d turned the entire return trip into training—lightness skill drills and conditioning.

Naturally, the one who drove that insane march was Yeon Hojeong. Captain Shin Mo took the instructor’s role.

By the time they reached the estate, everyone was on the verge of collapse.

But they couldn’t rest. Yeon Hojeong and Yeon Jipyeong were summoned to the Clan Lord’s hall, and the Azure Hawk Squad—of all times—hit training hours the moment they checked in from return duty and had to plunge straight back into drills.

Normally, on the day you return from an out-of-roster mission, all schedules are canceled. Shin Mo didn’t budge. He’d been looking to ratchet up intensity anyway, and he didn’t miss the chance to lay on the whip.

That day, the Azure Hawk Squad that had gone to Hefei got a taste of hell.

****

Yeon Wi widened his eyes when his sons entered the Clan Lord’s hall.

Huff.

Despite the chill in the air, the smell of sweat came in a hot wave.

Not the stale reek of old sweat—new, raw sweat, just shed. And from their clothes, this hadn’t been a day or two of it.

“We’re back.”

“We’re back, Father.”

For a moment, Yeon Wi couldn’t speak.

At the sight of his sons’ state, words failed him. Was this how it felt to face your children returning alive from a battlefield?

After a beat, Yeon Wi opened his mouth.

“Up, both of you.”

The two stood.

A glint came into Yeon Wi’s eyes.

Yeon Hojeong’s face was composed. Yeon Jipyeong’s face, by contrast, had hollowed out. He’d never had any spare flesh, but anyone could see the toll plain as day.

“I’ll hear the particulars from your brother. Pyeong, go and rest.”

“Ah... thank you.”

Thank you? Knowing Jipyeong’s usual temperament, it was the sort of reply that would draw a wry laugh.

When Jipyeong left, only father and elder son remained in the hall.

“Sit.”

“Yes.”

Yeon Hojeong took his seat.

They said nothing—until Chief Steward Tae Gyeong came back with tea.

“Wet your throat.”

“Yes.”

Yeon Hojeong lifted the cup.

Yeon Wi’s eyes lit. He had seen it: the faint tremor in both hands as Hojeong raised the cup.

After several sips, Hojeong finally let an expression cross his face—one that said he could breathe again.

Yeon Wi asked,

“What on earth is that state?”

“We trained on the road home.”

“Training? What sort?”

Calmly, Yeon Hojeong laid out the regimen they had kept to all the way back.

Yeon Wi’s gaze wavered.

“You mean you did that savage training with Pyeong?”

“No.”

“Then?”

“Captain Shin and the entire Azure Hawk Squad trained with me.”

“...You led it?”

“I did.”

What a ruthless brat.

He almost said it aloud without thinking. For even Yeon Wi, the content of the training was shocking enough to pull that reaction up from his unconscious.

The training was simple. Just running.

The problem was how they ran.

Keeping a steady pace over a long haul—if your base conditioning is decent, it isn’t hard. It’s only a question of how long, not of the running itself.

But changing speed every half interval is a different beast.

For half an interval you sprint flat out; when the next half interval passes, you slow to a jog. Another half interval, all-out again; another half, throttle back.

That was day one. With each passing day, they lengthened the sprint segments by another half interval.

And they kept that up the entire way home—taking mountain trails instead of even roads, at that.

Ten of those days without using inner power?!

Even if they rested for meals and slept at least eight hours a night, it was brutal to the point of harshness.

It was only fortunate that these were bodies trained from childhood, with True Qi on top; anyone else trying to copy it could be courting real danger.

“We made sure rest and nutrition were solid.”

“Muscle is one thing, but joints may have been damaged.”

“I don’t rate myself so lightly that I can’t read my own condition.”

“Excess can drive you into inner injury.”

“Which is why I still reserved time for circulation.”

You can’t get more hard-edged than this. In truth, Yeon Wi had done training like that himself—but never sustained for twenty-one straight days.

Still...

He read the emanation coming off Hojeong’s body.

Where his energy had been perfectly contained before, it was now spilling as it pleased. That meant stamina and True Qi were at their limits.

“In twenty days to this degree... You’ve gained a staggering amount.”

Startled by the sheer volume of work, he nevertheless believed his son.

He had to. The boy himself was proving it had been proper training.

The quality of his True Qi was far clearer and more grand than when he’d left home. Compared to before, the change was so great you’d scarcely believe it was the same person’s qi.

No mere flash of insight could do this. Ruthless physical tempering had altered even the very nature of the qi inhabiting the flesh.

“Qi continually shapes the body. You drove yourself to the edge of collapse, then accelerated change with heavy nutrition, rest, and True Qi.”

Yeon Wi nodded.

“In any case, you’ve borne a lot.”

“No. This is only the start.”

“...Hm?”

Yeon Hojeong smiled.

The fatigue he couldn’t hide still clung to him, but above it sat a sense of payoff.

“I’ll keep this kind of training up until I hit the limits of mind, body, and qi. Of course, the rest will have to match.”

“You’ve set your heart hard.”

“You can stake your life on training ◈ Nоvеlіgһт ◈ (Continue reading) and still not know when you’ll touch the essence. I’ve still got a long, long way to go.”

“...Is that so?”

Yeon Wi nodded.

“So it is.”

At last—

Only now could Yeon Wi accept his son’s change without reservation.

Before Hefei, his son’s shift had carried a strong sense of dissonance. As if he’d become someone else out of the blue; it had put him on edge.

But as of today—

Seeing that deep smile and those clear eyes, Yeon Wi could accept the change exactly as it was.

“Perhaps it was my own obstinacy that didn’t want to acknowledge my firstborn’s change.”

His son had become an adult.

Not in the sense of age alone, but in the eyes and heart with which he looked at the world.

Leaning back in his chair, Yeon Wi asked,

“How was the gathering?”

Light kindled in Hojeong’s eyes.

I learned something big, Father.

There was a great deal he wanted to say. He held his tongue. He judged it wasn’t yet time to tell his father.

“It was... so-so.”

“Make many acquaintances?”

“Not deeply.”

From the way he put it, there were a few he’d taken a liking to.

Yeon Wi took a neatly folded letter from his breast and handed it over.

“What is this?”

“Read it.”

Hojeong unfolded it.

A moment later, he spoke in a sour tone.

“Hm... I don’t think it’s anything so grand.”

“If it were me, I’d send such a letter, too. That’s a parent’s heart.”

“When did it arrive?”

“This morning.”

Hojeong cleared his throat.

“That girl has a light tongue.”

The letter was from the Je Gal Clan Lord himself—thanks conveyed in person.

Considering when it arrived, they must have been told before the gathering.

Yeon Wi nodded.

“Good work.”

“It’s nothing. Not for this.”

He didn’t show it, but he was proud of his son.

He’d saved a life, yet he neither bragged nor even treated it as something special—he saw it as only proper.

He had grown far rougher than before, but by just that much, he seemed to be learning the way of a person. Yeon Wi was very pleased with the change.

So he asked him head-on,

“I hear you tangled rather viciously with the Namgung Clan.”

Hojeong nodded.

He’d expected the topic.

“Yes.”

“I want the details.”

Yeon Hojeong laid out what had happened at the gathering in full.

Naturally, he did not mention anything involving Ming Holim. Even without that, nothing was lacking to convey the situation.

“I see.”

Yeon Wi could tell Hojeong had tried to be as objective as possible.

“So the Namgung Second Young Master... did that.”

“Yes.”

Cold settled into Yeon Wi’s eyes.

At that look, Hojeong flinched without meaning to.

Gooseflesh ran up from his lower back. He had never seen his father’s eyes so cold.

“It’s not simple. To call it merely a bad tie is too kind—what they did went a long way past the line.”

“I had no wish to tangle if I could help it, but joining hands with the Tang heir—that I call a bit much.”

“Of course it’s too much. I hear he’s past twenty—how did he learn such nasty stratagems?”

Inwardly, Hojeong cocked his head.

Was it because they hadn’t spoken in a while? Somehow, Father’s emotional expression felt more forthright than before.

“Good work.”

“Sir?”

The look Yeon Wi gave him was clear. The familiar sternness was still there, but it was as if a layer of hard ice had fallen away.

“At times rumor can cut deeper than a blade. You didn’t storm over in a fit and make a scene—you handled it wisely.”

“Ah. Yes.”

His father wouldn’t know this: he’d half-killed the Tang heir and his men.

Han Homyeong had hidden it completely. If that got out, a real bomb would go off.

“However—it seems they also know well how dangerous rumor is.”

“What do you mean?”

“The Namgung side sent an apology to our main house.”

Hojeong knit his brow.

“An apology?”

“Yes. From the Clan Lord himself.”

“That can’t be...”

“He also confessed what his daughter did.”

Hojeong let out a low exclamation.

“What an old fox.”

Light flashed in Yeon Wi’s eyes.

“Do you see how the board is turning?”

“They tossed the daughter overboard and saved the son’s face, didn’t they? They’ve packaged the son’s deed as a private matter unrelated to the Namgung Clan.”

Yeon Wi marveled inside.

After just a few lines, he’d assembled the pieces and inferred the situation on the spot.

This wasn’t just about having a quick head. You had to be able to read how the world moves.

“That’s right.”

“Hah. I thought they’d keep it buried to the end, but they shaved a little face and sutured the case closed. The Namgung Clan Lord’s way with affairs is no ordinary thing.”

Yeon Wi nodded.

He had to admit it now—his son’s growth, his son’s eye.

“So then, what do you think?”

“About what?”

“We haven’t answered the Namgung apology. How would you handle it?”

Hojeong shook his head.

“What’s there to agonize over? It’s a bit irritating, but spending time on that kind of headache is a waste.”

“Accept the apology?”

“Unless we can shake the Namgung Clan Lord himself, what else can we do when they’re calling it the Second Young Master’s private grudge? And they say it was over his younger sister, besides.”

“You’re not angry?”

Hojeong gave a thin smile.

“How many times do you think your life gets threatened, living in the martial world? Better to take the apology here and turn it to raising the Yeon Clan’s name.”

A rational judgment.

He had no intention of spending another thought on the Namgung Clan—“the likes of them.” He had a mountain of work ahead.

But Yeon Wi, who didn’t know what lay under that, felt both sorry and proud at the conclusion his son had reached.

Forgive the one who tried to kill you? That isn’t easy for a young man not yet twenty.

Yet he not only forgave; he was thinking of the clan’s future. That was praiseworthy—and it made him sorry as well.

“Good. We’ll do as you say.”

“Yes, understood.”

Yeon Hojeong rose.

“Then, may I go wash up now?”

“Go.”

Hojeong bowed his head and turned to leave.

Without meaning to, Yeon Wi called to his son just as he reached the door.

“Hojeong.”

“Yes?”

Yeon Wi was silent a moment.

Puzzled, Hojeong’s head tilted until his cheek nearly touched his shoulder.

“You’ve worked hard.”

Hojeong grinned.

“It was nothing.”