Fabre in Sacheon’s Tang Novel - Chapter 130

Chapter 130
“Ah, no, wait. Hyang, spit that out right now. Ptooey, ptooey. Quickly.”

Startled, my first instinct was to ask where she had found the insect, but I realized that was the wrong initial reaction. My primary concern as a father was that the bug might bite and injure her, so I urgently told her to spit it out. Hyang promptly obeyed, ejecting the creature from her mouth.

*Thud.*

The bug, still twitching from being expelled, righted itself slowly and came into full view. It was approximately the size of an egg, with a semi-transparent white body, antennae, and stubby legs. Though noticeably larger than any I had seen before, it was unmistakably a species I recognized.

‘A termite!?’

It was somewhat rounder and bigger, but its identity was certain. Hyang had brought over a white ant, known in the Middle Kingdom as a *baiyi*.

‘But there are no trees here. Where could it have come from?’

As I stood blinking in astonishment at Hyang’s discovery, I suddenly perceived her thoughts in my mind, answering the question I had forgotten to ask.

‘Daddy, there are so many over there! Hyang saw them!’

‘Ugh!’

Even amidst my shock about the termites’ origin, I was momentarily paralyzed by the overwhelming cuteness of her mental voice. It was a true paternal heart attack, brought on by a daughter’s adorable nature. What father could possibly keep his composure in such a moment? We might have our disagreements, enough to make one of us storm out and shatter my peace of mind, but this incredible sweetness is one of the unique joys of having a daughter.

‘Wait, why is she so cute right now, of all times?’

Shaking off the daze, I asked her again.
“W-Wait, where is it?”

I had always considered Hyang to be somewhat easygoing, but she proved to be remarkably efficient when it mattered. Determined not to let my question go unanswered, she immediately pounced on the termite she had just spat out, rendering it immobile, then began wriggling her way toward the base of a red rock peak.

She scurried to the root of the rock formation, glanced back at me, and cried out.

*Tsurr!*

‘Daddy! Here! Over here!’

I hurried over and crouched down where she indicated. Under a low, shelf-like rock was a cleverly concealed space—a fissure in the stone that opened into a hole. Just as Hyang had said, several termites were poking their heads out from inside.

‘Oh my!’

A thrill of understanding shot through me from head to toe! I stared blankly at the multitude of towering rock spires surrounding us. Suddenly, the over hundred red peaks began to look completely different. I now saw them for what they truly were.

These red peaks were not simple rock formations. The countless pillars rising from the basin were not mere stone; they were all termite nests. I quickly deduced what kind of termites they must be.

While termites are commonly associated with wood, not all species live in it.

‘These must be a type of cathedral termite!’

The scientific name *Nasutitermes triodiae* came to mind. Commonly known as Cathedral Termites. The insects before me were definitely a close relative, also sometimes called “church termites.”

Cathedral termites originate from the desert regions of Australia, and their name is no accident. They construct immense, towering mounds that bring to mind the famous European cathedrals designed by architects like Gaudí, such as the Sagrada Família. They build these high structures because the shape is perfect for regulating heat and air flow.

These cathedral-like mounds may appear to be haphazard piles, but they are, in fact, highly scientific structures. As desert inhabitants, these termites draw in cool air through lower ventilation shafts when temperatures rise, and vent hot air out through towering chimneys. When night falls and the air cools, they seal the upper openings to conserve heat.

‘Standard cathedral termites are six millimeters long and build mounds six meters high… Since the one Hyang found is about six centimeters, I suppose the scale is proportional…’
Their mounds were so massive because they had constructed them in proportion to their own great size.

“So-ryong, is there anything over there? All I can see are more of these peaks.”
“Ryo, did you find anything? It’s just more of the same pillars.”

Just as I realized the truth about the red pillars, Hyang and Seol came over and asked, “Did you find something?”

Then, a voice came from above—a question from Shintu. “Did you find something?”
“I did find something….”
“Found something?”
“Yeah, well…”

Instead of answering directly, I pointed to Hyang, who was now plucking termites from the hole with the focused diligence of a child picking gray hairs from her father’s head. She had injected them with a mild venom, and they now lay stunned and motionless. I could feel her eager excitement, her desire to show off her discovery to everyone.

“W-What is this?”
“What is this, Ryo? Hyang, what are you doing? What are those things coming out?”
“Hyang, what is that?”

The three of them stared, wide-eyed and startled by the large insects. Even Shintu’s disciple, Yeong-ryeon, joined them, her eyes equally round with shock as she gazed at the termites.
“What is this?”
“This is…”

‘But what should I call them?’

I had made the discovery, but now it needed a name. Structures like cathedrals or basilicas didn’t exist in the Middle Kingdom. I was pondering this when a brilliant idea struck me.

‘Oh, that’s it!’

“Buddhist Stupa White Ant (불탑백의)!”

It occurred to me that the only local structures resembling these mounds were the stupas built in temples. I had to admit, it was a rather fitting translation. Like the name Cathedral Termite, it carried a religious connotation, making it perfectly suited to the setting! It was an ideal name, culturally appropriate and accurate.

“Buddhist Stupa White Ant?”
“Buddhist Stupa White Ant?”

They repeated the name in confusion, looking from the insects to the red peaks. I reached out and knocked on one of the peaks—which was, in fact, a termite mound.

*Tap tap.*

“I thought these were simple red rock peaks, but I was mistaken. These are all termite mounds. Each entire peak is a nest for these insects.”
“What!?”
“The whole peak is their home!?”
“Truly? The entire structure?”

Everyone began to back away from the gigantic termite mounds in surprise. I nodded in confirmation.
“Yes. Every single one of these massive peaks is actually a mound built by the Buddhist Stupa White Ants.”
“Then these things…”

Just as I finished explaining the true nature of the surrounding pillars, I heard Hyang emit a sharp cry.

*Tsurr!*

At the sound, I looked toward her and saw a larger termite emerging from the hole she had been investigating. Several of these bigger soldiers had appeared, blocking the entrance and now confronting Hyang.

“H-Hyang, no! Get back!”

*Tsurr?*

Hyang flinched and jumped back at my sudden shout, then conveyed her surprise and a hint of hurt through our mental link. She had been working so hard to impress me, and likely thought I was scolding her. I quickly lifted her onto my shoulder.

“No, I wasn’t scolding you. It’s just that those insects are dangerous. We must be cautious.”

The bug that had emerged from the mound was a soldier termite. It seemed the disappearance of the workers had prompted the soldiers to investigate. I could hear their powerful jaws snapping loudly.

*Click! Click!*

The mandibles of soldier termites are strong enough to inflict fatal wounds on other insects their own size, making extreme caution necessary. That was why I had shouted so urgently at Hyang.

If she had rushed forward and engaged the soldier termites, she could have been seriously bitten. While I doubted Hyang’s agility would make her an easy target, I couldn’t be careless. If she were distracted—perhaps by the tough silk of a Heavenly Silkworm—or tried to block their powerful jaws directly, she could still be in danger.

To reassure her, I gently scratched her jaw and head while offering plenty of praise.
“You did very well, Hyang. You found the termite, didn’t you?”
“Oh, Hyang found it? Our Hyang is so clever, isn’t she?”

After Hwa-eun and I quickly complimented her, Shintu pointed at the soldier termites at the hole entrance and the unconscious workers on the ground, asking, “So, these are the creatures threatening the Heavenly Silkworm? Then what of their food?”

His question about food seemed prompted by the soldiers’ appearance. Since I had previously mentioned that finding the threat would likely lead us to the food, he was following up now.

“Hmm… we’ll have to verify that now.”
“Verify? What do you mean?”

I was about 99% certain the Heavenly Silkworms were connected to the termites. After all, many species live in a symbiotic or parasitic relationship with termites and ants.

I took the box I had earlier retrieved from Shintu and smiled. “With this.”

Gathering Cheo-hwa and Yo-hwa, I led the way to the tallest peak at the basin’s center. To understand the Heavenly Silkworm’s sustenance, I believed the best method was to hatch one of their eggs, and the oldest, largest mound seemed the perfect place to do it.

We arrived at the largest central peak and began searching for a ventilation hole like the one Hyang had found before.
“We need to locate a hole like the previous one.”
“Understood.”
“I understand.”

*Tsurr!*

At my instruction, everyone spread out to search. It didn’t take long before a hole was found.
“So-ryong, over here!”

I ran to Hwa-eun’s voice and found the hole, hidden just like the last one. Kneeling to peer inside, I saw termites once again poking their heads out.

“Then let’s test it. We need to channel some internal energy into it, correct?”
“Yes.”

Following Shintu’s earlier instructions, I took one of the three remaining eggs from the box—now only three were left—and placed it on my palm. I began to channel internal energy into the ping pong ball-sized egg.

Immediately, the egg began to change color. Its interior turned a vivid blue, and soon a white larva broke through the shell and emerged. It was an unusual specimen, with the horn-like protrusions on its head, its osmeterium, constantly flexing.

Having only seen dried specimens before, witnessing a live one made me gasp in admiration.

‘Ohh! It’s so adorable!’

Its plump, white body was the very definition of cuteness. While the O-gongi were charming in their own way, the Heavenly Silkworm possessed a natural, unique adorableness. The soft, squishy texture of its segments and its peculiar wriggling motion made it incredibly endearing.

“So-ryong?”
“Ah, yes!”

I had been so captivated by the silkworm’s cuteness that I’d lost focus. Shintu’s call snapped me back to the present. I placed the newly hatched Heavenly Silkworm a short distance from the termite mound.

For a moment, it seemed to survey its surroundings. Then, noticing the termites, it began to crawl toward them. Strangely, as it approached, its osmeterium began to transform. The horn-like structures spread out and flattened, becoming resembling yellow leaves.

The termites immediately rushed toward it, eagerly licking the yellow “leaves.” It was then that I began to grasp the Heavenly Silkworm’s ecology.

‘Ah! The Heavenly Silkworms must have a lifecycle similar to that of the twin-tailed butterflies!’

The ecology of the twin-tailed butterfly is quite unique. After mating, the adults lay their eggs near the nests of Matsumura tail-feeding ants. Once hatched, the ants carry the larvae into their nest. The butterfly larvae produce a sweet honeydew from their posterior glands, which the ants consume. In return, the ants care for the larvae and even feed them their own young.

It appeared the Heavenly Silkworms shared a similar symbiotic relationship. Sure enough, the termites that had fed on the honeydew from the silkworm’s yellow leaves quickly carried it into their nest.

“So-ryong, the ants took the Heavenly Silkworm away!”
“Wait, no, So-ryong! Those creatures took the Heavenly Silkworm!”

Hwa-eun and Shintu were alarmed that the termites had taken the silkworm, but there was no cause for concern. This was precisely what I had anticipated, and we needed to excavate the mound regardless.

If the Heavenly Silkworms had an ecology like the twin-tailed butterflies, then we needed the Buddhist Stupa Ants to cultivate them, which meant we had to dig down and find the queen.

‘Last time, the army ants were too dangerous, and we failed to catch them before they died. But these Cathedral Termites aid in farming and are not aggressive—they’re perfect!’

I smiled at Shintu and asked, “Elder, are you good at digging?”
“Dig? You can’t be serious?”
“Yes, I believe we need to dig.”
“Wait, you are supposed to be their protector! How can you suggest digging when you haven’t even discerned their nature after all this time?”

Shintu grumbled about the digging suggestion, but I was about to give him a reason he would have to accept.
“No. I have discerned everything I need to know.”
“You have!?”

Shintu’s eyes widened in shock at my declaration. I pointed down at the ground beneath our feet.
“Yes, of course. But digging is essential for the Heavenly Silkworms.”
“Essential? How?”
“Did you not see? The Buddhist Stupa Ants took the Heavenly Silkworm inside. This means there are likely numerous cocoons and hatching silkworms deep underground.”
“What!? What did you say!?”

Shintu’s eyes went wide, and he stared at the red pillars. He seemed to realize that the treasure he had sought for so long might be buried right beneath us.