Fabre in Sacheon’s Tang Novel - Chapter 22

Chapter 22

The insect I held with the tongs had the head of an ant, but its body was dark and swollen. My sister studied it with a puzzled expression. Soon, a bright orange fluid began to drip from its body onto the ground.

I had been so determined to find a hornet’s nest—especially one with low activity—for this exact reason. These little creatures are notorious for plaguing hornet colonies.

“Why must they torment those poor hornets…” I murmured under my breath.

“What is this?” my sister asked.

“This is our target.”

“A Ji-dam?” she identified it at once.

So that’s what it’s called here, I noted silently.

“I had no idea Ji-dam could be found in hornet nests. That’s unexpected.”

The insect I had extracted is known as Ji-dam in the Central Plains. In Korea, it’s called a blister beetle. More specifically, the one I captured was a Southern Blister Beetle. Their method of invading hornet nests is particularly unusual.

Unlike most insects, blister beetles do not lay their eggs in secure or sheltered places. Instead, they scatter them randomly across grass, tree bark, or any available surface. The closest thing to care they exhibit is clustering their eggs together. Once the eggs hatch, the tiny larvae climb to the highest point they can reach. There, they perform an astonishing deception—they imitate a flower.

The larvae gather into a circle, each extending its body to look like a petal. Together, they form the shape of a small, bright yellow blossom. Hornets, deceived by the mimicry, land to gather nectar. The larvae then leap onto the hornet, clinging tightly as it returns to its nest.

Inside the nest, the larvae abandon their flowery disguise and start to feed. They begin with the stored nectar and pollen, but eventually consume the hornet larvae themselves, maturing into adult beetles in the process.

“Among the different kinds of Ji-dam, this variety specifically targets hornet nests to eat their nectar, pollen, and young,” I explained.

“How dreadful. I almost feel sorry for the hornets,” my sister said with a disapproving frown.

She leaned in to look more closely at the beetle in my grasp. “Doesn’t this creature secrete a burning toxin? I’ve also heard it can be deadly if too much is consumed.”

She was, without a doubt, a true daughter of the Tang Clan, deeply knowledgeable about all things poisonous.

“You’re correct. The toxin can cause serious burns,” I confirmed.

The orange fluid oozing from the beetle contained cantharidin, a powerful poison. On contact with skin, it causes blisters and painful swelling. For humans, it can leave lasting scars and takes a very long time to heal.

“But… can this truly help restore a certain someone’s dignity?” she asked, her voice tinged with doubt.

“It can. It all depends on the application.”

Cantharidin is not merely a poison—it has a strange secondary effect. Once ingested, it is processed by the kidneys and expelled through urine. This process irritates the urethra, causing the genitals to become inflamed and swell. This accidental outcome mimics that of an aphrodisiac. Its use for this purpose dates back to ancient Greece. It was famously used by Roman empresses and European nobles during lavish feasts and decadent celebrations.

“Alright, that’s enough! Stop right there!” my sister cried out, waving her hands to cut me off.

I was amused by her flustered reaction but decided not to tease her further. I suppressed a laugh, satisfied to have discovered a small vulnerability.

Leaving my sister to compose herself, I turned my attention to collecting the remaining hornet larvae and a few unhatched pupae from the nest. Since some larvae had already matured, the pupae would be sufficient for my needs. With our specimens secured, we headed back to the Mandokjeon, the Tang Clan’s poison refinement facility.

“This way, Soryong. The Tang Clan’s poison masters will prepare the medicine exactly to your specifications,” my sister said, leading me into an area filled with unusual tools and equipment. Instead of glass, there were ceramic jars, various small furnaces, and extraction devices. Poison masters, their faces half-covered, quickly approached us at my sister’s signal.

I began giving careful instructions.

“Cantharidin has a lethal dose of 0.5 milligrams per kilogram of body weight. Ingesting just 10 milligrams can be fatal. The Southern Blister Beetle is roughly 10% cantharidin, so precision is essential to avoid disaster.”

A record of the Sichuan Lord’s weight was produced; he weighed approximately 35 gwan—about 131 kilograms. That certainly explained his current predicament.

After performing several calculations using the traditional measurement system, I directed the poison masters to dry the Ji-dam, grind it into a fine powder, and use only 0.375 milligrams of cantharidin per dose.

The poison masters were clearly impressed. One of them exclaimed, “Your calculations are extraordinarily precise, Master Soryong! I will see to it that this medicine is prepared perfectly.”

“Thank you. I’ll leave it in your capable hands.”

As I was leaving, I noticed my sister stealing looks in my direction. It seemed my display of knowledge had made an impression. In a world where brute strength often overshadows intellect, I was indeed a rare commodity.

She’s fortunate to have a brother like me, I thought with a touch of pride.

***

Late that night, a quiet conversation was underway between Tang Hwa-eun and her grandfather in Mandok Shingun’s residence.

“So, he is making medicine from Ji-dam?”

“Yes, Grandfather.”

They were discussing the medicine Soryong was having prepared. Curious about the day’s events, Mandok Shingun had asked Hwa-eun for a full account.

“To think a substance that can kill and cause swelling in large amounts could have such an effect in smaller quantities. We should re-evaluate all the poisons in the Tang Clan’s arsenal and explore their potential more thoroughly.”

“I had the same thought,” Hwa-eun agreed.

Although the Tang Clan had studied Ji-dam’s poison before, their research had focused solely on determining the lethal dose. They had never investigated what a smaller, non-lethal amount might do to the human body. The idea of creating medicine from it was both new and intriguing, raising the possibility that other poisons might harbor similar hidden uses.

“And you say he is skilled in arithmetic as well?”

“Yes. He broke the dosage down into tenths and compared it to the weight of ten drops of water,” Hwa-eun explained.

“Is that so? He is truly a remarkable boy. I believed his expertise was limited to venomous creatures, but he is far more than that. The more I learn, the more he shines like a polished gem.”

“Yes, Grandfather.”

“And? Has your opinion of him changed since your first meeting?”

At this, Hwa-eun’s cheeks flushed slightly as she nodded.

“Yes, Grandfather. I believe I judged him too quickly before, and I regret that.”

“What’s past is past. As long as you treat him well from now on, it will be fine. Now, once the medicine is finished, how do they plan to verify its effects?”

Mandok Shingun’s question made Hwa-eun hesitate. She fidgeted before answering in a voice barely above a whisper.

“They said they would use it to… ‘correct’ some of the elders from the branch families who have been causing trouble…”

“What?”

After hearing the full plan, Mandok Shingun’s robust laughter echoed through the quiet night air of his residence.

“Hahaha! What an amusing boy he is!”

***

Mandok Shingun’s relentless drive for training permitted no days of rest. However, for someone with a modern perspective, the idea of endless training without a break was simply intolerable. After considerable effort, I had managed to secure one rest day every ten days.

On my precious day off, I was practicing my inner energy cultivation by circulating my Small Heaven Circuit (Sojucheon) after breakfast, with little else to do.

“Master Soryong, a message has arrived from Hyeonmujeon—the medicine is ready,” announced the servant assigned to my quarters. She informed me that I was summoned to Gajujeon, the head family’s hall.

“Understood,” I replied, halting my cultivation. I made my way directly to Gajujeon, eager to see the results.

Upon arriving at Mandokjeon, I greeted the elders before receiving the medicine from a poison master.

“Here it is, Master Soryong,” he said, presenting a small box filled with pills that looked like medicinal tablets.

“To make them easier to swallow, we added licorice powder and honey for sweetness,” the poison master added, perhaps offering more detail than was needed.

I nodded. “Well done. You followed my instructions exactly?”

“Of course, Master Soryong. I measured the dosage exactly as you specified,” he assured me.

As I accepted the box, Mandok Shingun interjected with a question.

“The medicine is ready, but how do you plan to prove its effectiveness?”

Testing was indeed a necessary step. I smiled with confidence.

“I plan to let those who questioned its efficacy see the results for themselves.”

“Good. We trust your skills, so let the skeptics be the ones to verify it,” Mandok Shingun replied with a grin. He immediately summoned the elders from the branch families who had expressed doubts about the medicine.

A short time later, the guards announced their arrival.

“Master, the elders from the branch family are here.”

“Allow them to enter.”

The doors opened, and six branch elders walked in. They bowed respectfully to Mandok Shingun and the other senior members of the Tang Clan before inquiring about the reason for their summons.

“Might we ask why we have all been called here?”

A small box was placed on the table. Mandok Shingun gestured for me to respond.

“The medicine is finished. That is why you are here,” I stated, sliding the box to the center of the table.

The elders blinked in surprise. “You? And is this the medicine intended for the Lord of Sichuan?”

“It is. And since some of you doubted my capabilities, you have been called here to confirm its effects.”

The elders exchanged looks, then nodded among themselves.

“Confirmation, you say?”

“As the great elder suggested, it is only proper to test it first.”

“Indeed. We cannot send untested medicine to the Lord of Sichuan.”

“Then let’s see it,” one of them said, urging me to demonstrate the medicine’s power.

I placed two pills in front of each elder. They stared in confusion.

“What is this?”

“This is your opportunity to personally verify the medicine’s efficacy,” I said with a courteous smile.

“Are you suggesting we test it on ourselves?”

“Naturally. Who better to test it than those who questioned it?”

Their expressions turned dark.

“Do you expect us to blindly trust that it is safe?”

“Ha! What if it contains something dangerous?”

Based on what Hwa-eun had told me, these elders had cultivated a poison immunity exceeding a hundred poisons. They should have no trouble enduring this test. I shot a quick glance at Mandok Shingun, who smirked, clearly relishing the growing tension.

“I was under the impression that those trained in Tang Clan martial arts feared no poison. Surely you aren’t… afraid?”

There it was—the one word no man, regardless of age, can easily abide. Fear.

Their eyes bulged, and their voices rose in outrage.

“Afraid? Us?”

“Ha! This youngster dares to insult us?”

“It seems you mean to humiliate us because we initially opposed you. But you have underestimated us!”

They scoffed at the mention of Ji-dam, dismissing it as a minor poison.

“Ji-dam? Such a petty toxin is nothing to fear.”

“Very well. If nothing happens, you will regret doubting us!”

Grumbling and seething, each of the branch elders swallowed the two pills before them.

A short while later, as their faces flushed and their postures shifted, the pride and confidence of the branch family elders were thoroughly restored.

In every conceivable sense of the word.