Fabre in Sacheon’s Tang Novel - Chapter 223

Chapter 223(The following is a continuous narrative translated and adapted from the original Korean text.)

At the old woman’s mention of “spirit poison,” a term that sounded like it came from a religious mystic, Hwa-eun asked again,
“But spirit poison? What exactly is a *spirit*?”
In my past life, I’d encountered the word countless times in fantasy novels and games, but to Hwa-eun, a pragmatic scion of a martial poison clan, it was clearly a foreign and abstract concept.
Just then, I heard Sister Seol’s voice explaining softly from behind me. It seemed she was quite knowledgeable about the customs of the Black-Clad Tribe, said to be numerous in the Yunnan region.
“The people here worship spirits and deify their ancestors. They revere natural entities—trees, the sun, the moon, animals—as spirits and offer them veneration. That old woman is likely saying these men were poisoned by one of the very spirits they worship.”
“That old lady is what they call a *sangmu*—essentially a shamaness of the Black-Clad Tribe.”
As I’d suspected, this all smelled of ancient, primal belief systems—shamanism, animism, totemism, all intertwined. The *sangmu*, or “mourning shaman,” of the Black-Clad Tribe was essentially a priestess, an intermediary between the physical world and the spirit realm.
Without a word, Hwa-eun gave a small, almost imperceptible nod. Then, her face a mask of calm detachment, she walked calmly to the very edge of the weathered wooden dock. And then, without a moment’s hesitation, she bent down, grabbed one of the pallid corpses by its ankle, and hauled it out of the water in one smooth, powerful motion.
One.
Then another.
Was it that unshakable “The Tang Clan says so, therefore it is” authority?
No—on second thought, she was clearly letting her actions speak louder than any words could.
After all, when dealing with devout believers, logic often falls on deaf ears. You can present all the reason and empirical evidence in the world, only to be met with “But I believe…” or “A vision told me…”, and that is where any meaningful conversation ends.
So Hwa-eun was doing the most effective thing possible—simply showing them.
“See? No poison. What explanation do you have now?”
The crowd recoiled as one, a wave of fearful movement.
“W-whoa! Stay back!”
“Th-the spirit’s venom…!”
Even though Hwa-eun had personally guaranteed there was no poison and had handled the bodies with her bare hands, the locals—especially those from the Black-Clad Tribe—still looked utterly terrified to be near the corpses.
The old *sangmu* kept muttering her warnings about the spirit’s venom, her voice a low, ominous drone. It was clear this belief in a vengeful lake spirit was deeply ingrained and held serious sway over these people.
Even the Han Chinese among the onlookers, perhaps infected by the palpable fear, had begun to back away cautiously.
Or maybe it was simply the chilling weight of the old woman’s dire tone.
“Miss of the Tang Clan, please beware the venom of the spirit. Its poison infects the heart and brings a wasting sickness…”
When deeply held belief clashes with cold logic, scenes like this are inevitable. Even in my past life, in an age of advanced science and technology, faith still produced outcomes that defied reason. So it was hardly surprising that in this ancient world, people were still firmly in the grip of primal superstitions.
Now the pier was nearly deserted—just the three of us standing there with the two water-logged bodies while everyone else had retreated to a ‘safe’ distance.
Sister Seol, herself hailing from a minority lineage and perhaps more susceptible to the local fears, leaned in close to Hwa-eun and whispered,
[“Hwa-eun… are you absolutely certain there’s no poison?”]
[“Positive. Even if it were a toxin unknown to me, poisons that kill humans act on the body in certain predictable ways. But these corpses show none of the typical signs.”]
[“Their eyes and lips are normal, the skin shows no discoloration. There’s no subcutaneous bleeding, no petechial hemorrhaging in the eyes, nothing. The silver needle and chemical reagent tests from our clan’s methods also showed no reaction.”]
[“You saw me touch them directly—if there were even a trace of potent poison, my own internal venom arts would have sensed it and reacted.”]
[“Then that’s a relief…”]
Just then—
“Make way!”
“Clear the path!”
A new commotion erupted at the entrance to the port. The crowd parted once more as a group of patrol soldiers, armor clinking, approached with an officer striding at their front.
The officer, a man with a weary but sharp gaze, eyed us up and down—two strikingly beautiful women and a young man standing calmly beside two corpses. He seemed utterly perplexed by the scene.
“I am Tang Hwa-eun of the Sichuan Tang Clan. The clan lord is my father. And you are…?”
Her introduction was brief, devoid of flourish, yet carried an immense, unshakable authority.
The officer flinched in surprise and quickly saluted, his posture straightening immediately.
“Ah! A direct descendant of the Tang Clan! Forgive my impertinence! I am Ye Masahun, officer of the local garrison here in Seochang.”
“I see. We were just retrieving the bodies because people kept insisting they were poisoned. I have confirmed they are not and brought them out for proper handling.”
“Really!?”
He glanced at the lake water and then back at the bodies, his eyes wide with astonishment.
“To think a noble lady of your status would go to such lengths personally… Thank you! We were actually on our way to fetch the *wujak*.”
“*Wujak*?”
“That’s a forensic examiner, So-ryong,” Sister Seol whispered to me.
Ah, so like the coroner or medical examiner of this era. They must have planned to check for poison through an official autopsy, but Hwa-eun had already preempted them with her definitive assessment.
Hwa-eun tilted her head slightly, a thoughtful frown on her brow as she asked the officer,
“You said ‘this time again’ earlier—does this sort of thing happen often?”
The officer nodded, his expression turning grave. “Yes. Once or twice a year, we find a body like this in the lake. Usually fishermen who went out on the water at night and never returned.”
“And every time, the people from the Black-Clad Tribe crowd around, claiming the lake spirit is angry, that its poison is to blame. It spooks my men so badly they refuse to handle the bodies, so we always have to summon a forensic examiner from the county office to officially rule out poison before we can proceed.”
Putting it all together: unexplained deaths occurring in the lake. The locals, spurred by the Black-Clad Tribe’s beliefs, attribute it to a spirit’s poison. The garrison’s hands are tied by superstition until an official examination is done.
“The locals insist ❖ Nоvеl𝚒ght ❖ (Exclusive on Nоvеl𝚒ght) it’s poison, and the fear is so contagious it paralyzes my soldiers.”
“I see…”
“But now that a direct descendant of the Tang Clan, the world’s foremost authority on poisons, has personally confirmed it, no one will dare say otherwise. You’ve done us a great service and saved us considerable trouble!”
The officer turned and shouted over his shoulder to his hesitant men.
“You heard the young lady from the Tang Clan! Same as before—no poison! Now stop dawdling and get these bodies loaded onto the cart!”
“Yes, sir!”
Maybe because they were Han Chinese soldiers, less bound by tribal superstitions, or maybe because the declaration came from a Tang Clan heir—but the patrol soldiers now moved with swift efficiency, gathering the bodies and loading them onto a wooden cart.
The officer turned back to us and bowed deeply once more.
“Our deepest thanks to the Sichuan Tang Clan for your assistance.”
“It was no trouble. We’ll be on our way then.”
“Let’s go.”
They departed, carting the bodies away towards the local government office for paperwork and burial.
As they left, I found my eyes drifting back to the old *sangmu* from the Black-Clad Tribe, who was watching the proceedings with a dark, unreadable expression.
“…Excuse me, madam,” I began, approaching her cautiously. “But what exactly *is* this lake spirit? What form does it take?”
Thinking there might be a spirit beast or a unique creature involved, I hoped for a description. But she didn’t answer my question directly.
Instead, she simply fixed me with a deep, unsettling gaze and left behind a bone-chilling warning:
“The deaths by the lake spirit’s poison… they were but a warning. If you show no fear in the face of its wrath, if you dismiss its power… the spirit’s anger will surely stir again, and its vengeance will not be so gentle next time…”
Her words hung in the air like a cold mist long after she had turned and melted back into the dispersing crowd.

***

Once the patrol soldiers and the gawking crowd at the dock had all dispersed, we finally turned our attention to our original purpose: the giant salamanders.
We carried the five heavy, sluggish creatures into the ship’s hold. After settling all of them into the large, water-filled tank Hwa-eun had prepared earlier, I finally felt a wave of relief. Now, at least, there was no risk of their heads being bashed in by superstitious fishermen.
Watching the ancient-looking amphibians move lazily in their new temporary home, I turned to Sister Seol and asked casually,
“By the way, Sister Seol, what do you actually think this ‘lake spirit’ is supposed to be?”
“Who knows?” she shrugged. “The Black-Clad Tribe worships a myriad of things. Why do you ask?”
“Well… they were so adamant about the spirit releasing a poison. I was wondering if maybe it’s not a spirit at all, but a type of spirit beast, or a particularly venomous creature living in the lake.”
“But Hwa-eun said there’s no trace of poison, right?”
“That’s true… but even if it’s not poison, someone—multiple someones—still died. I just keep thinking… what if something real *is* living in that lake?”
There was no sign of venom, so it likely wasn’t a venomous creature in the conventional sense. But the fact that people had died was undeniable. Something had to be there.
At my words, Hwa-eun, who had been observing the salamanders, nodded thoughtfully.
“So-ryong has a point. Even if it wasn’t poison, people did die. If we could have examined those bodies more closely, we might have found some other kind of clue…”
But the corpses were already taken away by the patrols. We’d need another approach.
“Tomorrow,” Hwa-eun decided, “I’ll ask around the Black-Clad Tribe settlement—try to figure out exactly what they’re referring to when they say ‘lake spirit.’ Someone may have seen something. If it’s a beast or a creature, perhaps even the Han fishermen or gatherers have caught a glimpse of it. We might get a description.”
“I’ll help!” Sister Seol chimed in enthusiastically. “So-ryong, it sounds like an interesting mystery, doesn’t it?”
In my experience with ancient beliefs, people usually deify real animals or natural phenomena rather than purely imaginary ones. Since this case had the distinct stench of a spirit beast about it, it seemed well worth investigating the tribe directly for more clues.
Just then, a voice called from outside the boat—it was the boatswain.
“Miss Hwa-eun, you have a visitor.”
“A visitor?”
“Someone came to see us?”
There was no one we were expecting in this remote area. All three of us exchanged puzzled glances and stepped back out onto the deck—and there, standing on the dock beside our ship, was a familiar face.
It was Officer Ye Masahun, the garrison commander of Seochang, whom we’d just seen hours earlier with the corpses. He stood there looking slightly awkward, several patrol soldiers waiting respectfully behind him.
“Good to see you again, Officer Ye,” Hwa-eun greeted him politely, though her tone held a note of inquiry.
“What brings you back to us?”
The officer bowed deeply once more and replied,
“The Seochang Magistrate humbly requests an audience with you, Lady Tang.”
“The Seochang Magistrate? Why me?” Hwa-eun’s eyebrows rose in surprise.
The Seochang Magistrate was the chief local official overseeing this entire area. For him to formally request a meeting was unusual.
The officer quickly explained, looking somewhat embarrassed,
“Although you were kind enough to confirm the absence of poison earlier, according to imperial law, any case of unnatural or suspicious death must undergo an official autopsy and be documented.”
“Yes, I am aware of the procedure, but…”
“And since a direct heir of the esteemed Tang Clan, the ultimate authority on such matters, happened to be present in Seochang, the Magistrate wished to… to ask for your insight personally, if you would be so gracious. We’ve been trying to get to the bottom of these mysterious deaths for years, but no definitive cause has ever been found. Now, with your expertise serendipitously here…”
He trailed off, clearly hesitant to impose yet hopeful. In essence, they were respectfully asking Hwa-eun to consult on, or perhaps even supervise, the official autopsy of the corpses.
We were hoping to gain more information anyway, so when I glanced at Hwa-eun, I saw a flicker of keen interest in her eyes, followed by that subtly thrilling smile that sometimes graced her lips.
“An official autopsy… It’s been a while since something gave me goosebumps from excitement.”
That faint, bewitching smile made my heart jolt unexpectedly. But Hwa-eun was mistaken about one thing—just seeing that smile was already exciting enough.
Ahem… I cleared my throat, refocusing.

***

We arrived at the modest yet imposing local government office, paid our brief respects to the Magistrate—a nervous-looking scholar-official who seemed immensely relieved to see Hwa-eun—and were soon led to a separate, colder building that served as the autopsy chamber.
Several *wujak*—forensic examiners clad in simple hemp robes—were already waiting for us and bowed deeply and respectfully upon our entry.
“A profound pleasure and honor to meet you, Lady of the Tang Clan.”
“The honor is ours.”
Hwa-eun glanced over them once, her eyes sharp and assessing, and gave a curt nod.
“You will follow my instructions precisely. Consider yourselves my own hands and feet for this procedure.”
“Of course, my lady.”
“Understood. We are at your service.”
With that, the examiners entered the main hall. The two corpses had already been washed and laid out on stone slabs.
Since the victims were all adult males, Hwa-eun, adhering to propriety, opted to stay outside the main chamber and direct the examination from an anteroom instead of entering herself.
“Then let’s begin. Strip the bodies completely and examine them meticulously for any unusual marks, no matter how small.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
As she sat in the high-backed chair an attendant had brought for her, we waited while the muffled sounds and voices of the examiners came from within.
“No unusual signs on the exterior, my lady. He has a few minor scratches and abrasions on the arms and legs—consistent with fishing activities—but otherwise, nothing remarkable.”
“Be thorough. Check the scalp, between the fingers and toes, the genitals, everywhere. Leave no area unexamined.”
“…Understood.”
Even from outside, I saw Hwa-eun’s cheeks flush just the faintest shade of pink, probably due to the clinical specificity of her own order.
Soon after, the voices came again.
“Still no unusual marks or discolorations found, my lady.”
“Then proceed to open the abdominal cavity. Begin with an examination of the lungs.”
“Yes!”
Sounds of metal instruments clinking, followed by the soft, gruesome sound of a blade cutting through flesh. A wet, ripping noise.
Then a pause. A murmur of confusion.
“Um… w-wait. This is… water?”
“Careful. What do you mean, water…?”
The confused murmuring grew slightly louder.
Hwa-eun’s posture straightened instantly. She called out, her voice sharp,
“Report. What’s going on in there?”
“The lungs… they’re completely saturated, my lady. Full of water.”
“What? Full of water?” Hwa-eun’s eyes narrowed.
“Yes. So much so that it’s leaking out and has seeped into the surrounding thoracic cavity—”
Our first thought was that the bodies had been left in the lake for some time. Perhaps water had passively seeped in through the airways after death.
But Hwa-eun stood up abruptly, her chair scraping against the stone floor.
“Check the second body’s lungs! Right away!”
“Y-yes, ma’am!”
I looked at her, my own curiosity piqued by her sudden intensity. “Is something strange?”
She nodded firmly, her brow furrowed in concentration.
“Yes. If the second body also has lungs filled to capacity with water…”
“If it does? What does that mean?”
“That would mean they drowned.”
“Drowned…?”
Meaning they died by suffocating underwater. But that seemed almost too simple.
Then Hwa-eun added, her voice low and serious, “But when people drown, it is actually quite rare for this much water to enter the lungs so completely. Typically, when water hits the windpipe, the epiglottis slams shut in a reflex action, sealing the airway. This causes suffocation—’dry drowning’—before significant water can enter.”
Oh, right—I remembered reading about this distinction long ago, back in my past life, while researching for a project.
Most drownings are technically ‘dry’. The body’s panic reflex prevents water from flooding the lungs.
“Wait, but they were fishermen, right?” I reasoned. “Wouldn’t they know how to swim? They just… drowned?”
Exactly. They were experienced fishermen on their home lake. Something about this was clearly, deeply off.
Then Hwa-eun finished her thought, her voice quiet but ominous in the chilly anteroom,
“…For their lungs to be filled with water like this… to truly ‘drown’ in the wet sense… their bodies would’ve had to be completely paralyzed, unconscious, or anesthetized *beforehand*. They wouldn’t have been able to hold their breath or trigger the drowning reflex…”
Just then, the voices from the examination chamber confirmed her directive—
“The second one’s lungs! They’re full of water too! Exactly the same!”
The puzzle had just deepened into something much darker.