Black and White Martial Emperor

Yeon Wi stepped into the Clan Lord’s hall and went straight to work.

But the documents wouldn’t come into focus. A moment ago, the words his son had said wouldn’t leave his mind.

‘Even if my aim is different, my heart is always here.’

His eyes grew deep.

For the aim to be different—meant his son’s gaze truly faced the world.

‘It is truly difficult, wife.’

He thought of the wife who died not long after bearing Jipyeong.

‘I wanted to raise our two sons splendidly so I wouldn’t be ashamed before you who went ahead. But I used being a clan lord as an excuse and only ever came down hard on our child.’

He remembered it vividly—himself roaring at Yeon Hojeong when the boy was small.

Thinking back, Yeon Hojeong had only been six. An age to laugh at a spring butterfly, yet he spent his days under his father’s scolding and training.

Back then, Yeon Wi realized it. Watching his firstborn grow thinner by the day, he understood there was a problem with his own way.

So when he taught the second, he never drove him. Though the boy feared his father’s few words, Yeon Jipyeong still grew up kind and sound.

But Yeon Hojeong was different.

Jealous of his younger brother’s talent, he went crooked before anyone realized it. He cast aside martial training and started haunting taverns.

Yeon Wi couldn’t bring himself to chastise that son. Because he was the one who’d raised him so. He was the one who should have taught him that martial arts weren’t everything, and instead he narrowed his son’s world.

Time passed, and Yeon Wi realized one more thing.

When the boy first started to go astray—that was when he should have seized him. In short, he rebuked when he should have soothed, and looked on when he should have held on.

I’m a failure.

He truly thought so. Which is why he never felt he had the face to meet his firstborn’s eyes.

‘But, wife. That same Hojeong is now growing into a man. He has come this far on his own, without anyone’s help.’

When his son changed, Yeon Wi couldn’t hide his quiet joy. He himself hadn’t done a single thing for the boy, yet the boy had suddenly grasped something.

Too rough at times, yes—but each day he lived with a heart that pounded at his son’s splendid growth.

And yet that splendidly grown son says he has no thought of becoming master of the Yeon Clan.

‘Come to think of it, I can see why.’

A bitter taste rose in Yeon Wi’s mouth.

‘Who could I blame? It’s all my own lack. If I had shown Hojeong a responsible figure, he wouldn’t have turned his eyes outward.’

What was past had already passed. He could see he couldn’t change his son’s heart.

He looked toward the window.

He saw his son’s back, heading for his quarters. He looked truly stalwart.

“...Well. If your heart is at least here, that is a relief.”

That was enough. To have grown under an unworthy father and yet leave his heart with the clan—just for that alone, Yeon Wi thought he ought to be grateful.

He stood there staring out the window for a long time.

“Clan Lord. Chief Steward.”

“Come in.”

The door opened and Tae Gyeong entered.

“Goodness, the cold still bites.”

“It does.”

“So—did your bout with the First Young Master end well?”

Yeon Wi said nothing.

Feeling suddenly awkward, Tae Gyeong pulled a letter from his breast.

“Here, the thing you mentioned before.”

“Let me see.”

Yeon Wi unfolded the letter, and his eyes deepened.

“Truly tenacious.”

“Has the Mo Yong Clan still not given up?”

He looked at Tae Gyeong.

The man certainly had quick eyes. A bit frivolous at times, but the shrewdness he showed and his quick execution left nothing lacking in a Chief Steward of the Yeon Clan.

On a sudden thought, Yeon Wi asked:

“What do you think?”

“Do you mean the Mo Yong matter?”

“Yes.”

It was rare for the clan lord to ask his thoughts on business of this size.

Tae Gyeong answered at once.

“My thought is—it would be good to join hands.”

“Your reason?”

“The Mo Yong Clan is, with our main house, counted among the Seven Great Clans. If we join hands with such a house and expand our ventures, we can accumulate more wealth.”

“...”

“Ah—of course I know you have little interest in riches, Clan Lord. But each year you spend a fortune for those afflicted by floods, do you not?”

“The more wealth we build, the more people’s livelihoods we can save?”

“Exactly. In living in this world, money is indispensable.”

There was sense in Tae Gyeong’s words.

Yeon Wi weighed it. His son’s affairs were his son’s affairs; business was business. If they could contribute more to public welfare, it wouldn’t be bad to take Mo Yong’s hand.

Only—

“Is it because you think there’s a chance the Mo Yong Clan harbors another intention?”

“The Seven Great Clans are not the same as the Nine Sects and One Union. They walk the orthodox road, but they strive to fortify their standing as power clans. Most are frantic to swell their influence.”

“Mm.”

After a brief think, Tae Gyeong clapped his hands.

“Ah! Then—what about this?”

“...?”

“Have you heard of the current clan lord’s daughter of the Mo Yong Clan? They say she excels not only in martial talent but in wit, and her character is very lovely besides.”

“The girl called Mo Yong Yeonhwa?”

“You knew?”

The names of children of the Seven Great Clans were, of course, known.

“And that girl—what of her?”

“What of betrothing the First Young Master to the Mo Yong daughter?”

Yeon Wi’s eyes flashed.

“A marriage?”

“Yes. Granted, it might seem excessive to push a match over a single venture, but no one knows the future. If this venture becomes the occasion for our two houses to move forward together, might it not help the people even more down the line?”

Yeon Wi shook his head.

“This is a matter of human rites. I won’t go so far as to marry off a child over something like this.”

It was common to strike a marriage to secure cooperation between houses. But he had no particular wish to do so.

“But Clan Lord, it could also be good for the First Young Master.”

“For Hojeong?”

“Yes. Of late the First Young Master has changed greatly. But when you pass the clan to him, won’t he need someone at his side who can help?”

“...”

“If she’s the Mo Yong clan’s gifted daughter, she could be of ample help.”

Tae Gyeong didn’t know—Yeon Hojeong had no interest in the seat of clan lord.

Yeon Wi was about to shake his head, then suddenly thought of Yeon Hojeong.

‘...His aim is set on the world?’

Yeon Hojeong’s change had been abrupt.

Of course, he didn’t think Hojeong would revert to how he’d been. Even so, Hojeong was nineteen. An age when it was hard to know the world.

He didn’t know what his son’s dream was, but having someone at his side who could give firm support—certainly wasn’t a bad thing.

After chewing it over, Yeon Wi nodded.

“I’ll give it some thought.”

“Since we’re on the subject—the sooner the better.”

“I know what you mean.”

Tae Gyeong bowed his head.

“My apologies. I overstepped.”

“I’m the one who asked. It’s fine.”

“Ah—yes.”

“You may go.”

“Yes, then.”

When Tae Gyeong left, Yeon Wi fell into thought.

“A marriage, is it?”

****

Back in his quarters, Yeon Hojeong lay down on his bed as he was.

“Young Clan Lord?”

He hadn’t imagined his father might be thinking of naming him Young Clan Lord.

He let out a small, involuntary laugh.

‘You really never can tell with people.’

In truth, even in his previous life he hadn’t wanted to be Young Clan Lord. He just exploded with inferiority when he heard they meant to name his younger brother instead of him.

Now was different.

He knew his limits. He could rally the rough Demonic Path rabble and forge them into an elite—but leading an orthodox clan was beyond him.

Naturally he’d thought his father would give the heir’s seat to his brother. Given how rough he himself looked since changing, he’d thought it all the more.

‘As clan lord I wanted to test your capacity—yet as a father I grew frustrated seeing your will wasn’t bound to the clan.’

He closed his eyes.

‘I’m sorry.’

He figured his father must be thinking this way: that though he was rough, someday he would walk the same road; that blood couldn’t be denied.

But that was wrong.

He was his father’s blood—but he’d lived a hell that shredded even blood ties.

For someone like him to become master of the Yeon Clan would be misfortune for everyone.

‘Besides, I have something I must do.’

The fiend who annihilated his clan.

The task before him was too large and heavy. Just recognizing it and preparing for it was enough to split his head.

And that wasn’t all.

‘I also have to stop the stirrings of the Three Teachings.’

By taking part in the younger-generation gathering, he’d grasped something big.

The world now wouldn’t flow like the history he knew. The reason: he was moving differently than in the past.

The same for the Three Teachings. They might appear later than scheduled—or earlier.

No—he couldn’t even rule out the possibility they had already seeped into the Central Plains.

‘The Three Teachings—especially the Cult of Perversity—don’t compromise. Their blind hatred was nearly akin to faith. To stop those kinds, both Black and White paths will have to join hands.’

Lost in thought, he scratched his head.

Trying to think ahead for the first time in a while made it feel like a cramp was seizing his brain. He had a plan of sorts, but—

‘In fifteen days, when the Rear Beggar arrives—that’s when it begins. Until then, I’ll focus as much as possible on myself alone.’

He let out a breath.

He really did need to rest today.

The next morning.

When Yeon Hojeong walked out onto the Grand Training Ground, he came upon a curious scene.

“Do you take training for a joke?”

“No, sir!”

“Then why don’t you listen?”

“We’re sorry!”

“I told you plainly. From meals to rest, everything is calculated to the letter.”

“...”

“Are you planning to rebel?”

“No, sir!”

“Or what—do you not trust me?”

“N-no, sir!”

A man stood with his hands clasped behind him, one Flying Hawk Squad unit lined up before him.

Yeon Hojeong’s eyes brightened.

‘The Flying Hawk Captain?’

It was Kang Yun, the Captain of the Flying Hawk Squad who, on the day he returned to the past, had slipped into the Ancestral Hall with Yeon Jipyeong and confiscated their rice balls.

Kang Yun spoke in a cold voice.

“I am stronger than you. It means I broke through the realm you’re treading more than a dozen years ago. I know, one by one, exactly how you need to train.”

“...”

“Given that I personally drafted this schedule, why aren’t you following it? Do you not want to get stronger?”

“We’re sorry!”

“Or did you want to stand out? Or was your sleep time too long? Do you feel power surging up?”

“No, sir!”

He breaks the opponent down completely.

In crude terms, Kang Yun was grinding his subordinates. But the sight wasn’t good.

“Deviating from a schedule built on precise calculation—by itself, that’s a serious breach of discipline. You’ve steeled yourselves, I trust?”

“...”

“Why no answer? Are you deaf?”

“No, sir! We’re sorry!”

Kang Yun snorted.

“Joint responsibility. Today, until midnight, you will train the Flying Hawk Sword Method. No meals or rest. Since you’ve got the stamina to train without sleep, you can digest at least this much, can’t you?”

“...”

“Why no answer? Don’t want to do it?”

“N-no, sir!”

“You start now. Bring the iron-core wooden training swords.”

Faces across ➤ NоvеⅠight ➤ (Read more on our source) the Flying Hawk line went pale.

The iron-core wooden swords weighed over ten catties each. To swing that all day with no rest?

“What are you doing! Move now!”

Just then—

“Stop.”

Kang Yun turned.

Yeon Hojeong was standing there with a deep frown.

“What is this—some third-rate street tough? You really are doing the whole act.”