Black and White Martial Emperor (Wuxia Novel)

The air in the dining hall turned frigid.
Chu Seong’s face was twisted into something truly grotesque. At the far end, where he’d been sipping tea, even Namgung Hyun’s face had hardened to stone.

Yeon Jipyeong swallowed.
“B—Brother.”
“Why? Not hungry?”

“…That’s not it.”
“If you’re not eating, I’ll finish it. I trained since dawn—feels like my belly skin’s stuck to my back.”
Thud!

The floor shuddered.
Every gaze but Yeon Hojeong’s swung to Chu Seong.
“What did you just say?”
Yeon Hojeong slid him a glance.

The look was strange—indifferent, as if he were looking not at a person but at some passing beast, a scrap of scenery not worth noticing.
He went back to chewing his meat.
It was absolute disregard. Blood flushed hot up Chu Seong’s face.

“I asked what you said!!”
“Loud.”
Yeon Hojeong picked at his ear.

“A beast is a beast. Can’t understand human speech.”
Oil poured onto an already blazing fire.
“You little whelp, how dare—!”

“Enough.”
Namgung Hyun rose from his distant seat and came forward.
Chu Seong didn’t look at him. Rage had surged to the crown of his head. He looked a heartbeat away from drawing steel.

In fact his hand kept clenching and unclenching. He really looked ready to draw.
Namgung Hyun put force into his voice.
“Captain Chu.”

“…”
“Stand down.”
Grinding his teeth, Chu Seong turned away. His movement was so rough his robe snapped in the air.

Namgung Hyun, inwardly relieved, spoke in a voice like frost.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
Yeon Hojeong cocked his head.
“Talking to me?”

“Who else would I be talking to?”
“What did I do?”
“Insulting another clan’s escort captain—do you think our house will let that pass?”

A corner of Yeon Hojeong’s mouth lifted.
“When did I insult your escort captain?”
“What?”

“I don’t recall naming anyone.”
“Petty. Don’t play word games. Anyone who saw this situa—”
“Good. You said it.”

Yeon Hojeong’s face went serious.
“If you were watching all this, why didn’t you show yourself earlier? You saw my temper yesterday and still sat there, sipping tea?”
“W—What did you say?”

“If you’ve got something to say, say it to me directly. Don’t push an old escort captain in front and sit back to watch.”
“What nonsense is that?!”
“I said stop being petty. You’re the Namgung Clan’s Second Young Master. What are you lacking, that you couldn’t say one sentence—‘step outside’—to me yourself? Don’t tell me you’re afraid.”

“Don’t flatter yourself. To drive a man like that—”
Yeon Hojeong waved a hand, cutting him off.
He didn’t listen to the end. It would be the same tripe either way.

If it’s obvious he’s going to jab at the nerves, best to skip to the part where you say what you came to say.
“I know you don’t like me. Then do it like a martial man—request a proper bout, or at least ask me to share a drink. If you’re going to scheme, do it without making it obvious.”
“Absurd. Why would I—”

“Isn’t it because of your dear sister that you made up your mind?”
Namgung Hyun’s expression flipped.
Bringing up Namgung Sanghwa where everyone could hear? Dangerous.

He tried to hurry a reply, but Yeon Hojeong’s words were already falling.
“A warped temper might be inborn, but if you learned the vaunted laws of a great house, you should know where the line is. Seeing you and your sister, the name Namgung is wasted.”
Namgung Hyun’s face turned vicious.

“Are you insulting our house?”
“If you don’t want to be called a beast, listen properly when people speak. Saying the name Namgung is wasted means you or your sister haven’t acted as people of the Namgung Clan should. Can’t you parse even that?”
“You—!”

“And another thing.”
A soft light stirred in Yeon Hojeong’s eyes.
For an instant, Namgung Hyun’s body jolted. That flash of light leapt like lightning across his eyeballs and felt as if it burned through the back of his skull.

“Right here, right now, you’re using yesterday’s closed incident as a pretext to insult my house through me and my brother. Give me one reason I shouldn’t insult you in return.”
“I—Insult? How dare you—”
Yeon Hojeong smiled.

“Wasn’t it an insult? Then you’re saying you didn’t order your escort captain to do this?”
“Of course I didn’t!”
“Then you’ll have nothing to say if I discipline the escort captain who publicly insulted my house.”

Absurd.
And yet Yeon Hojeong made the absurd make sense.
“If you didn’t order it, your escort captain acted on his own to insult another clan. As the first son of the insulted house, shouldn’t I resolve that grievance?”

“Nonsense! Captain Chu merely exercised his authority for the gathering—he didn’t insult anyone—”
“I told you not to be petty with me. I’d ask the same of you. Everyone here saw your illustrious escort captain’s overbearing manner.”
Namgung Hyun glanced around without thinking.

Young men and women, scattered about the hall, were watching. Some looked uneasy, some intrigued.
Crucially, every one of them belonged to the Seven Great Clans.
Namgung Hyun ground his teeth.

Damn it.
All he wanted was to refresh the mood of day two.
It had been his idea to set Chu Seong on Yeon Hojeong. He had no intention of actually driving the Yeon brothers out. Small as their power was, the Yeon were still one of the Seven Great Clans.

He meant to step in at the right moment and smooth it over in front of everyone—to raise his own standing, sap the other side’s spirit, lull Yeon Hojeong.
Then, at the decisive instant, shave the other’s face and trumpet Namgung might.
What was this? The audience that should have tilted the board in his favor was bracing the other side instead.

“If you hate that so much, then punish your escort captain yourself in my stead.”
“W—What?!”
“Authority or not, your escort captain crossed the line. As Second Young Master, shouldn’t you scold him properly?”

“…!!”
“Choose.”
By nature, Namgung Hyun was cool and rational.

But he had never faced a head-on bulldozer like this. In truth, this wasn’t even weighty enough to call an ‘incident.’
And yet the other had strapped the weight of house honor onto a petty spat. However clever Namgung Hyun was, rattled was all he could be.
Then—

“I’ll take responsibility.”
Namgung Hyun looked back at Chu Seong.
His eyes burned like fire.

“Whatever the case, this started because of me. I can settle it at my level. There’s no need for you to trouble yourself, Young Master.”
Blood drained from Namgung Hyun’s face.
Damn it.

The worst.
This was exactly what Chu Seong must not do. He should have refused to be led by the nose—said he wasn’t at fault.
Instead he claimed responsibility. Which was as good as admitting he had insulted the Yeon.

Yeon Hojeong grinned.
White teeth bared, a smile of pure pleasure.
“Unlike your master, you at least know how to take responsibility. I like that much.”

A low hum.
Chu Seong stepped forward.

He didn’t release inner force, but a menacing intent was spreading.

“So—how does Your Excellency intend to hold Chu Seong to account?”
“How complicated is a martial man’s way of settling conflict?”
“You mean a bout?”

“Wouldn’t that be the cleanest?”
From Chu Seong’s standpoint, it was absurd.
First son of a great clan he might be, but he wasn’t even twenty. Chu himself was a seasoned first-class master with over fifteen years of life-and-death on the rivers and lakes.

A bout with him? That confidence was incomprehensible.
Perhaps it was too ridiculous—Chu spoke in a mocking tone.
“I did see you trade with the Ming Clan’s Third Young Master. You certainly have a knack for close-quarters. Since we’re at it, how about you give Chu Seong a sharp lesson here in front of everyone?”

A sneer—and also a chance to trumpet the Namgung Clan’s greatness. What he truly wanted was to break Yeon Hojeong thoroughly before the younger generation.
And Yeon Hojeong?
What a gift.

A broad smile spread before he knew it.
He’d wanted a stage anyway, and the man was handing him one. He could almost forget the scene from a moment ago.
“Shall we? That seems best.”

The one who should be the least pleased looked far too happy.
For a moment, Chu wondered if a trap lay beneath. By his reckoning, Yeon Hojeong’s odds of victory weren’t even one in ten.
Yeon Hojeong sprang to his feet.

“Call it a friendly bout if you like. After I call you to account, having the younger generation show off a little skill has its own meaning, doesn’t it?”
Chu let out a short, derisive breath.
“As you wish.”

“Good—very good.”
A grim light flickered in Yeon Hojeong’s eyes.
Right now, he wasn’t looking at Chu Seong. He was looking at Ming Holim.

“Let’s have ourselves a rousing match.”
 
****

“What?!” Je Gal Ahyeon’s jaw dropped.
“Chu Seong? Don’t tell me—the Thunder Hero Chu Seong who just took a Namgung corps captaincy?”
“…Yes.”

Ahyeon pressed her forehead.
“Damn it! Why pick a fight with someone like him?”
Thunder Hero Chu Seong.

A mid-career master who’d made a formidable name across Henan and Anhui. Swordplay as violent as his fiery nature—he was famous for single-handedly wiping out three tenths of the bandit gangs across those provinces over fifteen years.
Most of those bandits practiced martial arts. Many were Demonic Path; there were big bands in the hundreds, too.
In short, not someone the younger generation’s level of martial skill could simply handle. The younger generation means standouts among peers; a once-in-a-century genius might appear, but fighting a true swordsman tempered by countless real battles is perilous for anyone.

The Namgung Clan hadn’t made him a corps captain for nothing.
“We have to stop it! No matter how strong Hojeong is, this isn’t it!”
“Well…” Yeon Jipyeong let out a breath. “They’re already setting up at the outer compound training ground. It starts in about fifteen minutes.”

She gasped.
“Even so—no! Chu Seong’s as notorious for a ruthless hand as for his skill! He’s not the type to worry about how it looks!”
“We can’t help it. If he backs down here, my brother’s honor falls—before our house’s does.”

Je Gal Ahyeon was beside herself.
“But Jipyeong, why are you so calm? Did you just let everything go? Attain enlightenment?”
Jipyeong sighed.

“Of course not. I’m worried. I tried to °• N 𝑜 v 𝑒 l i g h t •° stop him, over and over. But…”
“But?”
“As much as I worry, I trust my brother.”

“…!”
“From what I’ve seen, even if he looks a bit extreme to others, he only does what he can take responsibility for. As his blood, I worry—but I believe he has a plan.”
Ahyeon’s eyes trembled.

Trust your brother? Even if you trust him, this is too much, isn’t it?
A strange pair of brothers. Worried, yet trusting? Not ordinary thinking.
Brothers are brothers.

But Yeon Jipyeong’s gaze didn’t waver. He wasn’t anxious.
He clearly trusted not only his brother’s judgment, but his skill.
“You two really are neck and neck in your own way.”

“Huh?”
“Forget it! To the training ground—now! Jun! You too—move!”