Black and White Martial Emperor

“Buuuurp!”

He belched so hard it felt like his soul might have flown out of his mouth.

“Wow, I’m stuffed! I ate like I was trying to die.”

Yeon Jipyeong’s mouth opened and closed like a carp.

“Ah, it’s a wonder you didn’t die, really.”

“Hm? Uh-heh-heh-heh! Second Young Master, you’re underestimating me far too much. A beggar’s stomach, by nature, far surpasses that of ordinary folk. It’s only because my intake has gone down that it’s this modest; in my youth I could put away twelve catties of pork without trouble.”

Converted to catties, Yeon Jipyeong’s weight hovered around a hundred catties. Ga Deoksang had just claimed he’d eaten more than a tenth of Jipyeong’s body weight.

Yeon Jipyeong shuddered. It wasn’t easy to get goosebumps from watching someone eat.

Yeon Hojeong pointed at the rice bowl with a finger.

“You left three grains.”

“That’s... sincerity, sincerity.”

“Empty it clean.”

Ga Deoksang smacked his lips.

“Strict, aren’t you.”

Even with his belly full, he popped the last grains into his mouth and savored each one. It was strange to watch him taste single grains of rice like that.

“Would you like tea?”

“What tea for a beggar? If it were wine, maybe.”

“It’s broad daylight.”

“Do you sort night and day for drinking? Peculiar temperament.”

Yeon Hojeong couldn’t help a faint smile.

Ga Deoksang said with a sly grin,

“Come to think of it, our Second Young Master holds his liquor pretty well, doesn’t he?”

With a look of disgust, Yeon Jipyeong waved his hand.

“You have no idea how much I suffered the next day. It’s good while drinking; the problem is after.”

“Um-hahaha! To enjoy the hangover itself—that is the true Way of Wine. You’ve only just taken your first step.”

“I–is that so?”

Yeon Hojeong said curtly,

“Don’t teach the kid nonsense.”

“Nonsense? How is that nonsense? Now that hurts my feelings.”

“Enough.”

Yeon Hojeong spoke to Yeon Jipyeong.

“Go tell them to bring some wine outside. And I’d like you to give us the room.”

“Ah, of course!”

Yeon Jipyeong had quick perception. From the moment Ga Deoksang arrived, he knew the man had business with his «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» brother.

Soon only the two of them remained in the guest room.

Ga Deoksang swept his gaze around with theatrical exaggeration.

“By the way, the clan atmosphere is downright chilly.”

“It’s always stiff. Not much fun.”

“Well, Yeon family law being murderous is famous enough.”

“Is it that famous?”

“Among beggars it is. Other clans might not know.”

In other words, something only the Beggars’ Union knew. Considering they gripped the orthodox intelligence world, it wasn’t strange.

“Has something bad happened recently? Even for the Yeon, it feels excessive.”

“Nothing much.”

“Nothing much, and it’s like this? People folded in half at the waist when you walked by.”

“People of the main house are second to none in etiquette across the Central Plains.”

“Their faces looked like raw fear to me. Thought a ghost was passing.”

“As you see, I’m not much of a person.”

Ga Deoksang let out a small laugh.

“Understand me. Given my line of work, I like to dig.”

“I understand.”

After a moment, the wine tray arrived.

Truly, Ga Deoksang was a monster. Before even pouring wine, he sampled the side dishes, and you’d never think he was the one who’d just said he was full.

Yeon Hojeong picked up the wine bottle.

“Have a cup.”

“Huh? Why pour into a cup? Just give me that.”

“......”

Ga Deoksang grabbed a bottle and drank from it like a canteen, a mouthful at a time.

“Kwa! Good wine! Better than Daughter Red, I think. Oh, my throat is burning!”

“It’s strong. Take it slow.”

“Let’s. We’ve got plenty to talk about.”

Light flared in Yeon Hojeong’s eyes.

Seeing those eyes—like an abyss—Ga Deoksang thought,

‘As expected, this man is...’

Different.

As Rear Beggar, Ga Deoksang had met more people than could be counted, many of them giants who moved the martial world.

The strange thing was, Yeon Hojeong’s gaze had a depth that recalled those giants. Not because of temperament or martial skill, but because the person himself was deep.

‘I really can’t see through him.’

He had quietly investigated Yeon Hojeong.

But there was nothing worth harvesting. In his prior life, Yeon Hojeong had no notable record.

A son raised by a strict father from childhood. The firstborn who went astray in despair at his younger brother’s talent.

A past you could find anywhere. There were no stories of him belonging to some secret society of the rivers and lakes, or the clan spreading bad rumors on purpose.

He was, as the saying goes, a man who had simply fallen out of the sky. Yeon Hojeong’s change had been far too abrupt.

“Is there something on my face?”

“Hm? Ah, no! I just thought, you’re handsome.”

“Flat.”

“Flat? With eyes that wistful, you’ll catch the guard of every maiden under heaven.”

“Enough. Let’s get to the point.”

“Cluck, let’s.”

Ga Deoksang laced his fingers and set his hands on the table.

“First, about the first request.”

“Go on.”

“At present, the martial world beyond the passes is all but a no man’s land. Nothing in particular to note. I hear Little Thunderclap Temple in Xizang is slowly opening its gates, but it won’t threaten the Central Plains.”

Yeon Hojeong’s eyes deepened.

“Nothing else? No depraved cults stirring up the common folk?”

“Depraved cults? You mean things like the old Demonic Sect that got wiped out?”

“Anything.”

“No such signs. In a sense it’s so uneventful it’s strange. Well, now that things have gone quiet, those weirdos from Little Thunderclap Temple probably figured this is the time to unseal their gates.”

Yeon Hojeong nodded.

‘So—not yet.’

The Beggars’ Union’s eyes weren’t confined to the Central Plains. If there had been even the slightest hint, Ga Deoksang wouldn’t have missed it.

“Let’s move straight to the second.”

“Good. The second request was the whereabouts of Mo Yongwu, yes?”

“That’s right.”

“As I said before, finding where that gentleman is isn’t difficult.”

“Tell me.”

“Only—I want to ask you something.”

Ga Deoksang’s eyes gleamed.

“Why is the Yeon clan’s First Young Master looking for the clan lord of the Mo Yong clan’s youngest brother?”

Mo Yongwu.

The half-brother of Mo Yonggun, clan lord of the Mo Yong Clan of the day.

And a brother with a large age gap. Mo Yonggun was near fifty, while Mo Yongwu was only twenty-nine.

Exactly ten years older than Yeon Hojeong.

“I’ll tell you later.”

“Hm. ‘Later’ meaning I’ll find out on my own?”

“Likely.”

Ga Deoksang studied Yeon Hojeong’s face with a sharp gaze.

‘I can’t tell.’

His expression was pure indifference. No matter how he tried, he couldn’t read anything.

‘At that age, is that even possible?’

Eyes, the movement of the lips, gestures, posture, and so on—

There are many ways to read a man’s mind. But with Yeon Hojeong, there was nothing to read.

“Fine.”

Ga Deoksang drew a letter from his bosom. For a man dressed in rags, the letter was clean and crisp.

“Here.”

Yeon Hojeong took the letter and unfolded it.

His eyes flashed.

“Zhejiang?”

“Right next to Jiangsu. The next province over.”

“Maritime trade.”

“Yes. Mo Yongwu oversees the Mo Yong branch in Zhejiang and, through that branch, handles maritime trade. Amazingly, the funds from that maritime trade account for a tenth of the Mo Yong clan’s total capital.”

A single man in charge of a tenth of the financial power of an organization as vast as the Mo Yong clan?

That was truly remarkable acumen. Bringing in a tenth of the clan’s entire capital alone wasn’t something you did with ordinary wares.

“Investigating Mo Yongwu surprised me quite a bit, personally. The clan tried to hush it up, but this Mo Yongwu is no ordinary man. In martial talent he can stand with the clan lord Mo Yonggun, and with virtue and character outstanding to boot, ‘fit to be clan lord’ doesn’t even do him justice.”

Of course.

Yeon Hojeong remembered the night before Mo Yongwu’s death—the man bowing to the master of the Demonic Path, asking him to look after his elder brother. He recalled that deep heart.

Even though his elder brother had cast him out under the pretext that he was a threat, the younger worried for the elder’s safety. A great man who knew humility despite overflowing talent—that was him.

‘...He resembles us.’

It called to mind the bond between Yeon Hojeong and Yeon Jipyeong.

Had he been the one with talent, he would have cast Jipyeong aside without mercy. In that sense, Mo Yonggun resembled himself.

‘Which is why I need Mo Yongwu. To stop them, it has to be him.’

Yeon Hojeong knew the measure of his own vessel.

He could become Lord of the Black Emperor’s Citadel because the Demonic Path under him was soaked in unrefined violence. But the orthodox martial world was different.

‘I have to be shadow and shield, and at once spear and architect. I must not make myself the sovereign. Not that I could.’

Ga Deoksang sighed.

“The Mo Yong clan lord is a frightening man. There aren’t many who will cast out their own blood to preserve power.”

Is that so?

Yeon Hojeong had seen more people than he could count who would cut down parents, siblings—even their own children—for power. Mo Yonggun wasn’t normal, but the world was full of men worse than him.

“At any rate, that completes the second request.”

“You’ve worked hard.”

“Worked hard, my ass. Thanks to you I learned plenty I didn’t know. Now, the third request...”

Ga Deoksang’s face grew serious.

“You may not tell me, but let me ask one thing this time.”

“......”

“How did you know?”

“Know what?”

“How did you know that the ‘Greatest Under Heaven,’ the Ming Clan of the Nine Provinces, is secretly raising Death Swords with no one the wiser?”

For an instant, killing will flared in Yeon Hojeong’s eyes.

‘So it was true.’

Yes.

After crossing hands with Ming Holim, he was certain the raiders’ martial art was the Ming Clan’s.

That alone wasn’t enough to call the Ming the culprits. Someone could have stolen and altered the Ming clan’s arts and learned them.

But hearing Ga Deoksang’s words, true certainty settled.

‘The culprit was the Ming.’

Brrrrr.

The wine tray gave a soft tremor.

A blue aura surged off Yeon Hojeong’s body. It was Jade Wave True Qi on a level that made any past comparison meaningless. With killing will laced into that True Qi, the temperature in the guest room plunged.

‘So you dared kill my father, bury my brother, and burn the Yeon clan’s seat?!’

His father’s face surfaced—gazing up at the heavens in lament.

His younger brother’s face—smiling wide, saying he believed in him—rose up.

And—

The blood-drenched back of his father, clashing in a storm of steel amid chaos.

The back of his brother, his spine snapped in the hands of a masked freak.

Fwoooosh!

The heaving aura grew fiercer, like flame.

The air in the room turned hellish. Ga Deoksang’s face went pale at once.

“Young Master Yeon!”

“Grrrk.”

“Young Master Yeon! Hey, you little bastard! My heart’s jumping out!!”

Startled, Yeon Hojeong reined in his killing will.

Whooom—

The energy that had been spewing a world-toppling murderous intent vanished in an instant.

Ga Deoksang pressed a hand to his chest. His heart was pounding like mad.

“Planning to kill somebody, are you? Man! Handle your killing will properly! It’s only because it’s me that I’m fine; if it were someone with weaker martial skill, they’d be coughing blood!”

It wasn’t empty talk.

Yeon Hojeong’s spiritual force was that of the Dark Emperor. The killing will of a master at the utmost heights was lethal power in itself.

“My apologies. I showed you an unseemly sight.”

“How am I supposed to talk when I’m scared out of my wits? Didn’t you startle the whole household?”

Ga Deoksang peered out the window.

By the greatest good luck, the faces of passersby were calm. The killing will hadn’t leaked outside the room.

“Whew, it’s like being shut in with a wild beast. I almost pissed myself. Huh? Maybe I did, a little?”

“I’m ashamed.”

“Enough! Just be careful from now on!”

“I will.”

Ga Deoksang drew a deep breath.

“But is that something to get that angry about? That the Ming are secretly building up a force? A house on the level of the Ming Clan of the Nine Provinces training warriors in secret isn’t all that odd.”

“The question is what they plan to do with that force.”

“Plan?”

“Rear Beggar.”

“Mm?”

“One more request.”

“...Shit—will you at least pay a commission fee. What now?”

Yeon Hojeong spoke, cold.

“This request may run against the code.”

When the war drums sound, the law falls silent.

Yeon Hojeong felt, with certainty, that it was time to shrug off law and discipline—if only for a while.