Black and White Martial Emperor

“Hmm?”

Yangcheon’s eyes gleamed.

“He’s on his way back?”

“That is correct.”

“Hmm.”

At White Rat’s report, Yangcheon stroked his chin.

“He finished his training already?”

White Rat answered cautiously.

“The Third Young Master’s talent rivals the First Young Master’s, perhaps even surpasses it. We cannot rule out the possibility that he finished earlier than expected.”

“Of course not.”

A peculiar look crossed Yangcheon’s face.

“That is certainly possible, but......”

White Rat had come to report that Yangcheon’s third disciple, Jeon Hong, had entered Hunan.

“He’s always had a fierce competitive streak, even as a child. And he knew perfectly well how talented he was. He used to pull some rather childish stunts just to put the first and second beneath him.”

Yangcheon’s assessment of Jeon Hong was simple and unwavering.

A bear that thought itself a fox.

That did not mean Yangcheon had raised his third disciple carelessly. At least when it came to teaching his disciples, he had always prided himself on treating them fairly.

Only much later had he realized that this was precisely what had caused the problem.

His disciples were people, after all. Their temperaments and talents differed wildly, and each of them should have been treated differently. It had taken him a long time to understand that.

Even after realizing it, however, Yangcheon felt no regret.

If he had to raise them all over again, he would do exactly the same thing.

If someone went astray or broke down despite receiving the same treatment and the same instruction as the others, then so be it. Once they had clawed their way up far enough to become martial artists worthy of some recognition, then he would give them genuine affection.

That was Yangcheon’s philosophy of teaching.

They had to claw their way upward, harden themselves, and reach understanding through their own efforts.

That was the kind of world the Dark Path was.

“Then, my lord, you believe the Third Young Master has returned early because......”

“Because of the second.”

Buseon’s growth of late had been dazzling.

She had yet to overcome her confusion, but the very fact that she had fallen prey to an inner demon of such magnitude proved just how formidable her tenacity was.

That was why Yangcheon valued Buseon.

At least by his standards, she had finally become someone capable of inheriting what he had learned.

Jealousy, perhaps.

Jeon Hong revered him.

Not because Yangcheon was his master.

Because Yangcheon was powerful enough to stand among those who could contend for supremacy under heaven.

And now rumors were circulating that a man of such strength had acknowledged another of his disciples.

It would hardly be surprising if jealousy and rage had gone to Jeon Hong’s head.

Yangcheon clicked his tongue.

I hope that isn’t why. But if it is, then you, too, are destined never to amount to much.

This was not a world where starting ahead meant crossing the finish line first.

He could only hope his third disciple had learned that by now.

“When he returns, tell him to come see me immediately.”

“Understood. Ah, and one more matter......”

“Hmm?”

White Rat spoke carefully.

“The guests from Putuo wish to see you, my lord.”

Yangcheon smiled coldly.

“They must be getting desperate.”

“They have repeatedly resorted to rather aggressive words and behavior. I considered giving them a warning.”

The Dark Path did not give warnings with words.

Yangcheon shook his head.

“No need. Tell them I’ll see them in three days.”

“Understood.”

“Anything else?”

“No, my lord.”

“Very well. You may go. Ah!”

“Yes, my lord?”

Yangcheon asked with a sly grin,

“How does it feel to go from a rat to a rock?”

The question would have sounded baffling to anyone else.

White Rat understood immediately.

He bowed his head, visibly overwhelmed with gratitude.

“Thanks to the boundless grace you have shown me, every day feels different from the last.”

They were no empty words.

Even White Rat, a man renowned for being stiff and unemotional, could not keep the surge of feeling from his voice.

Yangcheon burst into hearty laughter.

“Hahaha! I’m almost ashamed that such a paltry gift is all I could offer a man who has worked silently at my side for so long.”

“How could you possibly call it paltry? The divine art you bestowed upon me is a supreme art worthy of contending beneath heaven. Give me only a little more time, and I shall become a wall of steel—an impregnable bulwark in your service.”

“Hahaha, listen to you.”

White Rat’s martial arts had stagnated for a long time.

Yangcheon had therefore passed one of his own supreme arts down to him.

As though he had spent years waiting for precisely this opportunity, White Rat absorbed the art with remarkable speed, improving day by day. Even in Yangcheon’s eyes, his progress was exceptionally fast.

Considering his age, calling it explosive growth would hardly have been an exaggeration.

“Go and keep honing the art. It is by no means an easy one. You could devote the rest of your life to it and still never exhaust all there is to learn.”

“Thank you, my lord.”

White Rat bowed deeply, then hurried out of the great hall.

Once he was alone, Yangcheon sank back into his grand chair.

His eyes, fixed upon the ceiling, suddenly turned cold.

“It’s about time I climbed one step higher as well.”

* * *

The restaurant was bustling with noise.

It was called Ghostfire Pavilion, a rather unusual name for a restaurant. The place was famous for lighting lanterns of every color once night fell, and it had remained popular with young people ever since opening more than a decade ago.

Of course, flashy appearances alone could never have kept a business thriving for nearly ten years.

The food served here was renowned as some of the finest in all of Hunan.

“Oh?”

Yeon Hojeong smiled.

“There’s no gamey smell at all. And they haven’t even buried it under spices.”

“Right?”

Gangryang poured wine into Yeon Hojeong’s cup.

“This place is famous for having the best cooking in the area. I’ve eaten all over the place myself, but there aren’t many restaurants in Hunan that can compare to Ghostfire Pavilion.”

“You recommended it with such confidence. Now I see why.”

“I’m glad it suits your taste.”

Gangryang glanced at Jeongan.

She sat hesitating with her chopsticks in hand.

It was difficult to find a single dish on the table that did not contain meat.

“Not to your liking?”

“What? Oh, no, it’s not that......”

Yeon Hojeong waved a hand.

“She’s from a Buddhist order. Of course she avoids meat.”

“Is that all? How is anyone supposed to have any strength if they don’t eat meat?”

Jeongan cleared her throat.

“Putuo permits meat until we come of age. After that, though, we generally try to limit it.”

“If it’s only restricted and not forbidden, then enjoy yourself. It’d be rude to the person treating you otherwise.”

“Ah. Right.”

Once he framed it as a matter of courtesy, refusing became difficult.

Jeongan picked up a piece of meat and placed it in her mouth.

Gangryang smiled.

He had seen her pupils tremble violently.

“It’s very good, isn’t it?”

“It’s incredibly good.”

Even her voice trembled.

Apparently, the reason she had avoided meat throughout her training was that she knew she would lose to the temptation if she tasted it.

Yeon Hojeong snorted.

“Stop tormenting her. People grow up in different environments.”

“How is this tormenting her? If something is good, you recommend it. That’s only natural. Besides, like I said, it’s a matter of courtesy.”

“Or coercion dressed up as courtesy?”

“Can you really call it coercion when Lady Jeongan looks that happy?”

Jeongan lowered her head in embarrassment.

Yeon Hojeong could not help bursting into laughter.

And so the three enjoyed their meal.

They had left Guangdong so abruptly, and for the next several days they had pushed themselves to save time, sleeping outdoors and tearing into dried meat on the road.

Perhaps that was why the atmosphere felt so relaxed and cheerful despite the fact that, aside from Yeon Hojeong, none of them was particularly talkative.

This brings back memories.

Yeon Hojeong watched Gangryang.

Apparently enjoying himself now, Gangryang was busy teasing Jeongan.

His jokes never crossed the line, so even though Jeongan was embarrassed, she occasionally let out a quiet laugh.

He used to be like this too.

Gangryang.

During the days of the Black Emperor’s Citadel, he had been one of its Five Martial Commanders, the supreme swordsman known as the Iron-Blooded Sword King.

His martial prowess and decisiveness had been so fierce that some even said he possessed the makings of an Overlord.

As lord of the Citadel, Yeon Hojeong had inspired primal fear as the Dark Emperor, projecting an overwhelming authority. Gangryang, by contrast, had earned a reputation among both the orthodox and Dark Paths for the relentless strength that seemed to have no end.

But Gangryang was still human.

Even during his years at the Black Emperor’s Citadel, he had been surprisingly sociable in private, quick with jokes and fond of conversation.

Of course, as the war against the Three Creeds claimed more and more of his subordinates, that side of him had gradually darkened.

Yeon Hojeong quietly watched him for a while before casually asking,

“How does it feel?”

“Hmm?”

“How does it feel?”

“Do you know one of your flaws, Brother? Your questions have a remarkable tendency to come out of nowhere and make no sense.”

“It’s been a long time since you returned to Hunan. Doesn’t it feel good?”

It was the sort of question that could have shattered the easy atmosphere in an instant.

Anyone who knew Gangryang’s past would probably have shot Yeon Hojeong a warning look.

Even putting that aside, it was hardly the sort of subject one normally raised with Gangryang during a pleasant meal.

But Gangryang neither stiffened nor frowned.

“I suppose this must be what nostalgia feels like. It’s nice.”

“Is it?”

“Of course. This is my home.”

Yeon Hojeong smiled.

Gangryang’s heart had grown every bit as much as his martial arts.

Yeon Hojeong knew that, which was precisely why he could ask such a question.

“You’ve grown stronger.”

“It’s a hard world to live in if you don’t.”

“It’s still a hard world even when you do.”

Yeon Hojeong poured wine into Gangryang’s cup.

“You’re almost there too. It won’t be long before you break through the wall.”

Gangryang chuckled.

“Words of encouragement out of nowhere?”

“Words of encouragement based on fact.”

“You really think so?”

“I’m only saying it because I know you’ve grown strong enough not to be swayed by praise. The path you’re walking isn’t wrong. Before long, the sun beyond that shattered wall will guide you into a new world.”

“You know, sometimes the way you put things is surprisingly poetic.”

“There isn’t really any other way to explain it.”

Yeon Hojeong turned to Jeongan.

“Wouldn’t you agree?”

Jeongan nodded.

“If you’re referring to the Wall of Transcendence, then I think it’s a very fitting description.”

Apparently, Putuo called the Wall of Martial Arts the Wall of Transcendence.

Whatever the name, Gangryang’s swordsmanship had undeniably reached its limit.

The only question was whether he would gather more before moving on or smash through the wall in one decisive stroke.

Either way, Gangryang had grown almost beyond recognition.

Only then did his expression turn somewhat serious.

“You really sense that from me?”

“In truth, you’ve been ready to move beyond your limit for some time.”

“I have?”

“You’re the one who has to break the wall in the end. There can be many reasons why it hasn’t broken despite your having reached the limit. But the most important is your state of mind.”

Yeon Hojeong smiled.

“I don’t know what you’re hesitating over, but stop looking back and move forward without restraint. At the moment you break through your limit, even chivalrous spirit and a sense of justice are nothing more than distracting thoughts.”

Only then did Gangryang fully appreciate just how sharp Yeon Hojeong’s eyes truly were.

He had seen through Gangryang’s hesitation at a glance.

It really did feel as though nothing could be hidden from this man.

Of course, Yeon Hojeong probably did not know exactly what kind of hesitation it was.

“Thank you for the advice. Though I do wonder whether you really had to give it during such an enjoyable meal.”

“You’ve gotten awfully spoiled, you brat.”

“I’m just saying.”

Gangryang leaned back against his chair with a smile.

Yeon Hojeong looked around the restaurant.

“Still, it seems Ink Dragon Manor keeps the surrounding area under pretty good control.”

“It certainly does.”

At present, the Dark Path held tremendous power throughout Hunan.

Yet there were no swaggering troublemakers inside the restaurant.

They had not even encountered so much as a common thug on the road here.

Gangryang shook his head.

“They’re not the sort of people who do things halfway, are they? Neither Ink Dragon Manor nor its lord.”

Jeongan flinched before she could stop herself.

Yeon Hojeong nodded.

“True enough.”

“Enough of that. Let’s have another drink. It’s been a while, and I’m enjoying myself.”

“My cup’s empty. Fill it.”

“Yes, yes.”

And so the three passed the wine back and forth, enjoying themselves.

How much time had passed?

BANG!

The door on the first floor flew open violently.

The surrounding noise died away in an instant.

Yeon Hojeong, Jeongan, and Gangryang’s eyes all sharpened at the same time.