Fabre in Sacheon’s Tang Novel - Chapter 274

Chapter 274
“Huuuwaaah… no… this can’t be happening…”

Tears welled in Sister Seol’s eyes and fell in heavy drops, as if her heart couldn’t accept the situation.

“U-Unnie…”

Hwa-eun stood motionless, visibly flustered and unsure how to react.

She looked completely taken aback—it was clear she had never expected a grown woman like Sister Seol to break down over something like this.

But that phrase—“something like this”—was exactly where the issue lay.

Hwa-eun had kindness in abundance, but when it came to emotional intuition—particularly the kind that Sister Seol and I understood—she was noticeably lacking.

“She’s so gentle with the children, but with matters like these… it’s like she has no empathy at all.”

Why was Sister Seol crying?

Because she was forced to leave behind the largest and most adorable of the spirit beasts I had given her.

Honestly, it would have been stranger if she hadn’t cried.

If I were made to abandon even one of my little companions, I would have been just as heartbroken.

“Yes, it’s truly devastating. Without a doubt.”

Sister Seol threw her arms around the giant mountain goat’s neck and wept as though she were living through a tragedy.

“Hnnngh… I already had to part with the cutest one—why must you go too?!”

The creatures I came across after returning from Cheongyu’s inner realm, the ones Orange had gathered… they brought Sister Seol far more happiness than they ever gave me.

To be honest, aside from reptiles, insects, and amphibians—I don’t have much interest in other animals. So I passed them all on to Sister Seol. She was absolutely delighted.

“R-Rong-ah, do you think… it might be all right if I kept just one? I know you just received them, so I feel a little guilty, but…”

“Of course, Sister Seol.”

“R-Really? I can choose one? Isn’t that too greedy of me…?”

“Choose? There’s no need. You can have them all.”

“What!? Every one of them? You’re truly giving them all to me?!”

“Yes, it’s fine. I already have more than enough companions. Besides, these belong with the Beast Palace more than with me.”

“Th-thank you, Rong-ah! I promise I’ll care for them all my life! I’ll never marry! I’ll remain by your side forever and be the greatest sister to you!”

“Wait, no—you really should get married one day…”

There were four in total: a mountain goat as large as a horse, a white cloud leopard, a brilliantly feathered pheasant, and a red ✧ NоvеIight ✧ (Original source) bat. Each was a powerful spirit beast—and all were far better suited to the Beast Palace than to me.

I already had my hands full with my venomous family. And one fluffy friend—Hwa-eun—was plenty.

I did feel some curiosity about the pheasant, considering its dazzling plumage and the idea that birds evolved from dinosaurs, but it wasn’t venomous. So, in the end, it wasn’t for me.

Sister Seol had been floating on air with joy from that day onward.

But as we made ready to depart from Yizhou, complications arose.

The first issue was the bat.

We discovered it had a family.

It was a low-grade tropical bat, which naturally lived as part of a colony.

One night, we spotted dozens of bats suddenly gathering near our camp—it was its family.

The trouble was, bats like those, from tropical regions? It was impossible to know whether they could endure a long voyage by sea.

And even if they survived, where would they live afterward?

We couldn’t simply take the bat and abandon its family.

The Beast Palace had a firm principle about this: One must never separate a beast from its kin.

Sister Seol spoke through her tears.

“W-We can’t bring her… not if it means leaving her family. It’s all right. I still have the other three…”

And so, with a heavy heart, she released it.

But the greater challenge was the mountain goat.

Unlike the bat, it was a top-grade spirit beast—so massive that Sister Seol could ride up on its back.

It was strong, nimble, and capable of leaping across rocky cliffs with ease.

It had already given Sister Seol several breathtaking tours of the scenery and had charmed everyone it met. It was as comfortable around people as my own creatures were.

Sister Seol had even allowed others to take a ride.

But then we encountered the problem: its hooves.

It turned out that, as an aspect of its spirit-beast nature, it shattered any wood it stepped on.

Literally.

We first noticed when it stepped through an old pirate building—the wood fractured immediately. We assumed it was due to the structure’s age and decay.

But then it walked onto the deck of the pier… and crash. The wood splintered beneath its hooves, leaving perfect hoof-shaped holes behind.

We tried again with new, sturdy timber—with the same outcome.

We were on the verge of loading it onto the ship. If we hadn’t tested it first, the entire vessel might have been lost.

We even attempted to cover its hooves with special shoes woven from thread made by Yo-hwa.

It didn’t help.

“Nooooo! Why must you leave too?!”

If this were my previous life, perhaps we would have had ships plated with steel or decks built stronger. But in this time?

Such things didn’t exist.

And we couldn’t simply have the beast lie down like Cheongwol. This was not a creature that would stay still for days on end.

So I went to Sister Seol and softly rested a hand on her shoulder.

She turned toward me, her eyes filled with grief.

“Rong-ah… this hurts too much. I can’t bring it…”

“I know, Sister Seol. But we will return for them one day, all right? We will strengthen the deck with metal and come back when everything is prepared.”

“Wait, is that really possible? Wouldn’t the ship become too heavy and sink?”

“Not if we plan it carefully. I will find a solution.”

“…All right. I believe you.”

Hwa-eun observed us with an expression of pure bewilderment—as though she couldn’t grasp why any of this mattered so deeply.

But this wasn’t a matter of logic.

It was something felt deep in the heart.

“She must be an E-type in MBTI, right? A true extrovert.”

In the end, only the white cloud leopard and the dazzling mountain pheasant accompanied Sister Seol on the voyage.

The two with the biggest presence were left behind.

***

The full moon shone so brightly it seemed almost like daybreak.

We had journeyed from Taiwan, following the coastline of the Central Plains northward.

Our goal was the Ak Clan in Dongpyeong County, within Shandong.

To reach Dongpyeong, we needed to pass through Fujian, then Zhejiang and Jiangsu, before finally arriving in Shandong.

“Hyung?”

Restless, I walked out onto the deck—and noticed a familiar outline.

He stood silently, looking out toward the far-off shore.

“Ah, So-ryong. Could you not sleep?”

“What are you doing out here so late?”

“The Ak Clan is drawing near. I suppose I’m too anxious to rest.”

His tone was even, but I could sense it—he was filled with a quiet excitement, likely because he would soon see his beloved again.

I decided to stay with him for a while.

“In that case, shall we talk for a bit? I’m awake as well.”

“You should be sleeping, especially since the little ones are resting.”

“Oh, it’s all right. Ever since we came aboard, they’ve been sleeping much more. I’m finally able to relax.”

One clear advantage of traveling by sea—the children slept far more.

Which led to one thing:

Silence in my mind.

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

Normally, my head would be filled with their endless chatter, but the ship’s rocking or the confinement seemed to lull them to sleep.

Cheongwol couldn’t move about, so she slept most of the time.

Hwayang? Well, she already did little more than eat and doze.

Bini and Hyang couldn’t leave the cabin, so they joined the napping group as well.

And Cheongyu? She was always prone to sleeping from the start.

Which meant: I was finally at peace.

“Well then. Let’s talk.”

“Could you tell me about Dongpyeong? About the Ak Clan?”

“Certainly. The Ak Clan, you see…”

It was said the Ak Clan was established by descendants of General Yue Fei, a heroic martial figure from the Song Dynasty. They were renowned for their crescent moon blades—a distinctive form of saber and spear.

Their fist techniques were also well-known, particularly since many of their members served in the imperial guard.

During our talk, a question came to me.

“Hyung, the crescent moon blade—isn’t that the same weapon Guan Yu used in Romance of the Three Kingdoms?”

“Well, that’s what many believe. But historically, the Green Dragon Crescent Blade was actually created during the Song Dynasty—long after the Three Kingdoms era.

They say Yue Fei often wielded it. Not Guan Yu.”

“Ahh. So the blade was invented much later… But Hyung, isn’t a crescent blade essentially a spear? Why call it a ‘blade’ if it has a long shaft?”

“It’s true the handle is lengthy. But it is still considered a large saber. It was designed to fight cavalry from northern tribes. The long handle is simply part of its structure.”

“Ah, I understand…”

“Still, So-ryong, you really have no interest in anything except venomous beasts, do you? Not knowing something every toddler in the martial world learns. Tsk tsk.”

“Oof… Seriously, Hyung?”

I knew we were close, but still—why add that comment about a “three-year-old” at the end?

Shouldn’t being close mean treating each other more kindly, not the other way around? I was just beginning to feel a little hurt when Dosagong approached quietly.

“So-ryong-nim, look over there. The water is turning yellow—we’re nearing the Yellow River!”

I bent over the railing to see.

And indeed—under the moonlight, I could make out the line where the yellow, silt-filled water met the blue sea.

Dongpyeong, home of the Ak Clan, was situated along the Yellow River.

We were now sailing upstream, near the mouth of the Yellow River where it joined the West Sea.

We had been traveling the Yangtze until now—now we were entering the Yellow River.

“So I really am journeying along all the great rivers of the Central Plains, am I?”

As I gazed at the swirling yellow current, I detected someone behind me.

Turning, I saw Hwa-eun, her long hair flowing in the breeze.

“So-ryong.”

“Oh, hello Hwa-eun.”

‘Can’t sleep either?’

That was what I assumed—until I heard my hyung’s voice.

“Well then, I’ll leave you two be. I should try to get some rest.”

“No, Hyung, you really don’t need to—”

“I’m not so clueless, you know.”

With a knowing smile, he slipped away, leaving the two of us alone.

Hwa-eun offered a gentle smile.

“He’s more perceptive than I expected—your hyung, Peng Gongja.”

“I-Is that right?”

“Absolutely. Anyway, I heard we’re approaching the Yellow River. You don’t seem nearly as thrilled as you were when we first saw the Yangtze?”

“Oh… that’s true.”

I understood what she meant. Unlike my awe at the Yangtze, I wasn’t reacting with much feeling now.

And there was a reason for that.

Most Koreans picture the Yellow River as naturally yellow, but that isn’t actually true.

The reality?

It turned yellow because of environmental damage.

Originally, it was a clear, lovely river. But during the Qin Dynasty, when Emperor Qin Shi Huang ordered the construction of the Great Wall, they cut down every tree near the river’s source.

That left the soil bare. Over time, the loose earth washed into the river, and so—the water became muddy.

Environmental destruction dating back to 200 BCE. Isn’t that just typical of the Central Plains?

“Only in China could ecological disaster have a 2,200-year history…”

Anyway, there wasn’t much in the Yellow River to capture my interest.

The Yangtze had river dolphins, giant softshell turtles, salamanders, enormous beetles—so many creatures to fascinate me.

But the Yellow River?

Mainly mudfish and carp.

“There isn’t much in the way of venomous beings that would appeal to me.”

“I see…”

“So, what brought you out on deck?”

“I couldn’t sleep. And… I’ve been having that sensation again—like before. A sense of uneasiness.”

“Uneasiness?”

The way she said it made me start slightly.

The last time she had a ‘woman’s intuition,’ something major occurred.

“But it’s not as if I’m planning to enter an inner realm soon. What is there to feel uneasy about?”

“True. Maybe I’m just feeling nervous about returning to the Central Plains.”

Her smile under the moonlight…

It was dazzling. Truly breathtaking.

Just as I was lost in her expression, I heard an odd sound from the direction of my cabin.

—Shiaa.

Cheongyu.

She had opened the door and was coming out.

“Oh, is Cheongyu also unable to sleep?”

“Well, she did sleep the entire day…”

The instant Cheongyu stepped onto the deck—

—Sh… Shiaa…

A long, low murmur escaped her lips.

It sounded more like a moan than a word. I spun around quickly.

Cheongyu was swaying, her hand pressed to her temple.

“Cheongyu?!”

I dashed to hold her, and she fell into my embrace.

Her eyes shut as she leaned against me.

“Is she ill?!”

“What’s happening? Cheongyu?!”

Hwa-eun hurried over in alarm, just as Cheongyu’s eyes suddenly opened—and her voice echoed inside my mind.

—Shiaa? So… So-ryong?

‘Yes, it’s me, Cheongyu! Are you hurting? What’s wrong? Please tell me!’

This wasn’t the group channel—it was a private connection. Just between us.

Her expression gradually softened into a gentle smile.

It felt unusual—she had never smiled like this before. Not even once.

Even in human form, Cheongyu rarely showed emotion so clearly.

Something was not the same.

And then her reply came.

‘It’s me. Cheongyu… inside Cheongyu.’

“GYAAAH?!”

My eyes instantly flicked toward Hwa-eun.

And for some reason—I suddenly felt as if I had made a terrible mistake.

Even though… I truly hadn’t done anything wrong.