Black and White Martial Emperor

“Is that so?”

“Yes.”

Stripped to the waist, Yeon Wi stood with ➤ NоvеⅠight ➤ (Read more on our source) his left hand clasped behind his back, a sword in his right leveled toward mid-guard. He had held the stance so long that his upper body was drenched in sweat.

The chill autumn wind rose from his skin in translucent waves of steam. His breathing was rough, though never loud.

“How did they seem?”

“Pardon?”

“I asked—how did the two of them seem together?”

Kang Yun answered honestly.

“It was only for a moment, so I cannot be certain. But... the atmosphere did not feel strained.”

“Is that so.”

“Yes.”

At last, after an hour of unwavering focus on his sword’s point, Yeon Wi broke the stance.

Shing—

The blade slid into its scabbard with a sound smooth as song.

“He claimed it was at his request?”

The report left Yeon Wi quietly unsettled.

The eldest son had not merely disliked the second—he had hated him, treated him as if he did not exist. And Yeon Wi knew well the reason for that hatred.

Yet now, the boy had admitted it was his doing? Voluntarily?

“Any other unusual signs?”

“None.”

“I see.”

Kang Yun bowed crisply.

“Shall I summon the Master of the Law Blade Pavilion?”

“No need.”

“...Pardon?”

“I said there is no need.”

For once, Kang Yun’s rigid face betrayed genuine doubt.

“Then... will you not punish the Second Young Master?”

Yeon Wi fixed him with a silent stare.

Kang Yun blanched. Meeting the Clan Lord’s eyes struck like hundreds of swords piercing him at once.

“Captain Kang.”

“Y-Yes, my lord!”

“Do not forget your station.”

“My apologies!”

“You may go.”

With a deep bow, Kang Yun withdrew in strict formality.

Yeon Wi lifted his gaze skyward.

The heavens lay clear, without a single cloud. The breeze was cool, the sunlight measured.

“Perhaps it isn’t worth dwelling on.”

At the memorial rites, he had been shocked when his eldest suddenly embraced the second.

A man’s tongue lies easily, but actions rarely do. The sight of the eldest, overcome with emotion as he held his younger brother, had been undeniably genuine.

And even toward himself—

For a son who had never once drawn close to his father to suddenly show such a face left Yeon Wi unmoored.

“Is he entertaining some strange ideas?”

At eighteen, a youth was grown. Were he not a child of the martial world, he might already be married.

But his firstborn had never shown the bearing of an adult. Even as his father, Yeon Wi could not say what his son truly thought.

He pulled the sword from his belt and tossed it onto the weapons rack.

Thud!

The rack shuddered violently. Though outwardly no different from an ordinary longsword, it was a specially forged heavy blade weighing a full twenty catties.

“Wang Jeon.”

“Yes, Clan Lord.”

A hazy voice answered from empty air.

“When will the Namgung Clan arrive?”

“Roughly four days, it is said.”

“Wasn’t their young lady also to come?”

“Yes. The Namgung Clan Lord’s youngest daughter. She came to audit classes at the academy where the Second Young Master studies. She has already arrived, some days ago.”

“I see.”

He cared little for the daughter. What mattered was that one of Namgung’s senior figures would visit the Yeon Clan. It had been a long time since they received such a guest.

“Tell the Guest Hall Master: preparations must be complete within two days.”

“As you command.”

A faint weariness clouded Yeon Wi’s otherwise impassive eyes.

But it was not, it seemed, on account of his two sons.

****

Three days passed swiftly.

There had been much to think on, much to put in order. Though called punishment, for Yeon Hojeong it had been precious time.

Back in his chamber, he settled his thoughts.

“In the end, my task is this: to prepare, and to prevent.”

The Yeon Clan would be annihilated in a year and a half.

And twenty years later, the Cult of Perversity would turn the Central Plains into hell.

Neither could be ignored. The Yeon Clan was his family. The Cult’s rampage had scorched the entire martial world. If they were not stopped, the clan would fall regardless.

Worse—their first strike against the Central Plains had been launched from Jiangsu Province, the very land of the Yeon Clan.

“And beyond the Cult, there are two other foes of equal threat. Even if I start now, it won’t be enough to block them all.”

His mind burned with the pressure.

With a few deep breaths, he calmed himself and chose.

“Enough. Forget the Cult for now. The clan comes first.”

Returning to the past gave him the chance to do what he once could not.

But he did not scatter his goals. He had always been swift to judge what mattered most, what must be done first.

Right now, it was the clan.

To protect it—

He slapped his own cheek lightly.

“First, my body.”

Cross-legged on his bed, he began examining himself.

“As I thought.”

Even in the Ancestral Hall, he had checked several times, only to be disappointed.

“I hardly know where to begin.”

For his age, his inner force was considerable. Even Jipyeong, who eclipsed him in every other respect, was behind him in sheer reserve.

But as in all things, quality outweighed quantity.

“Only seventy percent in the Flying Swallow Heart Method?”

It was the Yeon Clan’s foundational cultivation method. Neither refined nor forceful—merely the basics.

And yet at eighteen, he had only grasped seventy percent.

He grimaced.

“Truly, my talent was never much.”

To advance to the next art, one had to perfect the Flying Swallow Heart Method at ninety percent.

In his past life, he had reached that point only days before the clan’s destruction. Jipyeong, by contrast, had mastered it fully at sixteen.

The gap in talent was that wide.

Hojeong closed his eyes.

“But now, this much is nothing. I can finish it at once.”

Even twenty-six years later, the formula remained etched in his memory.

He began to chant the incantations.

Hummm—

From his seated form rose a faint haze.

The qi had not yet condensed into visible manifestation. His reserves were ample, but this young body lacked practice in expulsion.

Still, it was only a matter of time.

Bzzz—

His dantian stirred.

Compared to his days as the Dark Emperor, his core, his meridians, his flesh and bone were crude. Yet in his mind, the Flying Swallow Heart Method was already dissected to its essence. He could fuse it back into his body.

Soon—

Buzz! Buzz!

A soft green glow shimmered within the haze rising from his shoulders.

Dim and flickering, but there.

Sweat broke across his brow.

“Not easy...”

But not impossible.

Twitch!

His shoulders jerked.

Crack, crackle!

From upper arms to forearms, his limbs twitched of their own accord.

His folded legs quivered as well. Qi coursed into his limbs, breaking through blocked channels one by one.

Half an hour crawled past like this.

Drip.

From his nose, dark blood fell. The qi had forced its way even into his head, where countless points converged.

“Done.”

A faint smile touched his lips.

“Just one full circulation more—”

Whummm!

The green haze brightened slightly, flowing through his entire body.

“Whew.”

Exhaling, he opened his eyes and unfolded his legs.

“I thought it’d be easy. Harder than I expected.”

He rose.

Clenching and unclenching his fists, he nodded.

“Better. This will do.”

His body was the same, but the quality of his inner force had changed, more meridians opened. Now he had the foundation for true cultivation.

It was a frightening pace of progress.

“Now comes the important part.”

After a moment’s hesitation, he shook his head.

“No need to overthink. I’ve already decided. Don’t waste time.”

After washing clean and changing, he went straight toward the Clan Lord’s hall.

On the way, countless clansmen greeted him:

“Greetings, First Young Master.”

“First Young Master.”

Their manners were proper, not a trace lacking.

Yet there was no reverence, no awe. Nor any disdain.

Stiff, cold, mechanical—as if all behavior had been slotted neatly into its place, whatever thoughts lay behind it.

“A governance of laws without any flexibility...”

The clan’s atmosphere struck him anew.

And inevitably, he compared it to the Black Emperor’s Citadel.

“Still, better than the Citadel.”

In the long run, the Yeon Clan’s order was preferable. Cold to affection, perhaps, but absolute in hierarchy and command.

Yet too rigid. That inflexibility would one day fester into problems.

“Not my concern... yet.”

At last, he stood before the Clan Lord’s residence.

Two guards kept the entrance, middle-aged warriors armed with sword and saber.

“Greetings, First Young Master. What brings you here?”

“I’ve come to see Father.”

The sword guard’s eyes flickered with surprise.

Never once had the heir come to seek the Clan Lord first.

“Has the Clan Lord given orders to receive you without our knowing?”

“No.”

“Then we cannot let you enter.”

Hojeong frowned.

“It’s urgent. At least announce me inside.”

“Apologies. The Clan Lord commanded none be admitted before noon.”

A direct command?

“...I mistimed this. Then at least, could you relay a message?”

“Of course.”

“Good. Tell him this: I intend to begin studying the Jade Wave True Formula ahead of schedule.”

The guards’ eyes widened.

“...Pardon?”

“Didn’t you hear? Tell him I’ll begin the Jade Wave True Formula early.”

Turning, Hojeong waved casually.

“That’ll do. Carry on.”

“W-Wait!”

“Hm?”

“Did you truly say—the Jade Wave True Formula?”

“Yes. Why?”

Their mouths worked soundlessly.

Hojeong scowled.

“Don’t tell me your ears have gone dull.”

“....”

“Be sure to pass it on. Don’t twist my words later.”

Leaving the stunned guards behind, Hojeong’s eyes caught sight of a boy.

“Jipyeong?”

“Ah? Brother, you’re here?!”

“Mm. Came to see Father.”

Jipyeong stared in surprise.

In a household where all wore stiff masks, he alone showed open, human reactions. Hojeong couldn’t help but smile.

“W-What brings you?”

“This and that. What about you? Here to see Father too?”

Jipyeong pouted.

“I couldn’t find you in your quarters, so I was looking.”

“Me? Why?”

“I promised to buy you a meal, didn’t I? I even picked out a good inn.”

“Oh.”

Hojeong coughed, as if only just remembering.

“Well, is there need to eat outside? The food here is enough—”

He cut himself short when he saw his brother’s large, calf-like eyes glistening.

His mouth went dry.

“...Then shall we, for the air’s sake, go out to dine?”

At once Jipyeong’s face lit up.

“Yes!”

Overjoyed, he strode ahead toward the gates, his proud swagger like a victorious general.

Hojeong sighed inwardly.

“Wait a while longer, Jade Wave True Formula.”