Fabre in Sacheon’s Tang Novel - Chapter 306

Chapter 306
“Ah… A lantern? So, would it be acceptable if I simply crafted a lantern? That seems straightforward enough.”

I anticipated some surprise from him, but the village chief simply beamed and nodded in agreement.
Something about his reaction felt odd, prompting me to inquire further.
Ordinarily, a request like that would cause at least some confusion. Yet he responded as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
This could only mean one of two things:
Either he was an exceedingly generous man, or… he had entirely misconstrued my meaning.
Experience told me it was usually the latter. That’s why I felt the need to clarify.
“Um… exactly how large are you imagining it?”
“Well, a lantern would be… let me think…”
The village chief scanned the sky as if searching for a point of reference.
He seemed to be looking for the moon in answer to my question—but what moon is visible in the middle of the day?
“Ah! Right, it’s daytime! My foolish, absent-minded head.”
Realizing his error, he tapped his forehead with his finger, then smiled and held up a closed fist.
“Perhaps this big? Though that might be a little small—let’s say about this size.”
He then spread his arms wide, indicating a circle roughly the size of a watermelon, his grin widening.
A prominent front tooth caught the light as he smiled with simple, earnest pride.
His expression was so open and guileless that I instinctively blinked.
“The moon is normally smaller, but a lantern needs to be large if it’s to shine brightly, young master.”
He offered this advice with a look of genuine helpfulness.
I was momentarily taken aback—but then I understood.
In the Central Plains, the moon was often seen as a mystical realm where the goddess Heng’e resided.
But that was merely a myth.
Without any scholarly knowledge of the heavens, the village chief likely believed the moon was exactly as large as it appeared to the naked eye.
Then again, even in the 21st century, there were people on Earth who thought the world was flat.
So, in an ancient era like this, it wasn’t strange for someone to believe the moon was no bigger than it seemed.
‘How innocent.’
With an internal, awkward smile, I decided to be explicit about the dimensions I required.
“Hmm… I believe I misspoke earlier. I would prefer it to be somewhat larger.”
“How much larger?”
“How large are you able to make it?”
At this, the village chief’s face clouded with slight concern, and his words grew hesitant.
“Well, you see… if we truly dedicated ourselves and enlisted everyone’s help, we could technically make it any size, however…”
“Oh! Is that true?”
When I perked up at his words, the chief, now visibly flustered, began listing numerous practical difficulties.
“But even if we built it, transporting it would be a challenge, and it would be very impractical to use… If it’s excessively heavy, it could easily be damaged… and it would consume a tremendous amount of oil…”
He continued to emphasize the struggles of moving it and the overall inconvenience, but my only requirement was that it be the largest lantern possible.
So, I maintained a polite smile and reiterated my request.
“Nevertheless, I would like you to make it as enormous as you can.”
“As… enormous as possible, you say?”
The village chief was beginning to look truly alarmed when I suddenly heard Grandpa’s voice near my ear.
[So-ryong, humble villagers like him do not lead extravagant lives. I don’t know why you need such a massive lantern, but creating one that size would demand a great deal of paper. That is likely his concern.]
‘It’s about the paper?’
Startled by Grandpa’s voice, I looked around and saw him approaching.
So his reluctance was about not wasting paper? That was slightly unexpected.
Then again, in the Central Plains, three things were famously inexpensive: paper, sugar, and manpower.
Paper was cheap because many households knew how to produce it themselves.
Sugar, which I assumed would be costly in this ancient time, was actually widely farmed from sugarcane south of the Yangtze River, so it wasn’t as dear as one might think.
And people—well, the population was so vast that labor commanded very low wages.
Not in a servitude sense, but simply that pay was minimal.
So, to think he was worried about paper…
‘Ah, I understand now.’
Upon further reflection, his anxiety made perfect sense.
A larger lantern requires more paper. However affordable paper is, a colossal amount still represents a significant quantity, and that adds up.
Even a light drizzle will eventually soak you through.
Inexpensive as it might be, a vast quantity of paper still costs money.
And while I might consider it cheap, that is from my perspective—
For someone whose livelihood depends on selling lanterns, the material cost could be substantial.
‘I must have lost touch with the value of money after becoming a wealthy son-in-law.’
Since I had asked for it as a favor, he likely assumed I meant a small token. If the materials alone cost enough to produce hundreds of ordinary lanterns, of course he would feel apprehensive.
Feeling somewhat apologetic, I reached into my pouch and drew out several silver ingots, offering them to the village chief.
This was money I had been given to purchase fine provisions for my visit to Hwa-eun’s older brother and to treat the grandpas, but there had been no opportunity to spend it in such a rural setting.
“Ah, a large lantern will require considerable materials. I hope this will contribute somewhat.”
“Th-this is far too much!”
The village chief was astonished by the sum, waving his hands in refusal.
“I could never accept this from our benefactor!”
“But I truly require the lantern…”
“Then I will simply make it for you.”
“That would impose on you, and I cannot allow that.”
Take it.
I refuse.
As we were locked in this polite struggle, Grandpa, who had just joined us, posed a question.
“So-ryong, what do you need such a lantern for, anyway?”
“Well…”
I began to answer, then glanced at the village chief beside me.
Should I explain elsewhere? But then I realized I would need the assistance of the villagers to prepare the lanterns.
[It is necessary for capturing the Blood-Blossom Dream Illusion Butterfly.]
[Is that right?]
I whispered to Grandpa that it was essential for catching the Blood-Blossom Dream Illusion Butterfly, and then asked if it would be better to confide in the chief and secure his cooperation.
[Since I will require help from the villagers, I think I should explain the situation to the chief…]
[If you need their assistance, then yes, that is likely for the best.]
With Grandpa’s approval, I explained the circumstances to the village chief. His eyes widened in shock.
“A-a poisonous creature is here in the village!? This is dreadful news! Are you saying we have all been put to sleep by venom!? Master Yak Seon, are we safe!? Are the children safe!?”
He clutched at Grandpa’s sleeve, questioning him desperately.
To soothe him, I spoke with firm assurance.
“Please, remain calm, chief. It is not a grave situation.”
“Not grave? How can this not be grave!?”
“But we have the finest physician in the Central Plains right here, Master Yak Seon. What is there to fear?”
I mean, he couldn’t concoct antidotes, but still—
When the village chief looked to Grandpa, Grandpa gave him a confident nod.
A look that said, “Place your trust in me.”
That finally seemed to reassure the chief a little. He then asked cautiously,
“But if it is a spirit beast, and a venomous one at that… how do you intend to capture it?”
He was asking about the plan—how I would handle the creature itself, a matter beyond mere healing.
Clearly, with Grandpa’s renowned reputation, he had no concerns about the treatment.
‘This is the power of a good name.’
Smiling, I stepped forward.
I brushed my hair back from my ear with an air of confidence and explained.
“I didn’t wish to say this myself, as it is somewhat embarrassing, but when it comes to venomous creatures, there is no cause for alarm.
People… often refer to me by a certain title.”
“?”
“The Daddy of All Venomous Creatures Under Heaven.”
The village chief stared at me, blinking rapidly after my introduction.

***
The village chief agreed to construct the lantern.
Though he put up a token resistance, he ultimately accepted my silver.
‘Perhaps they will remember the Daddy of All Venomous Creatures Under Heaven as a truly righteous man.’
Pleased with how smoothly things had been settled with the chief, I began a mental conversation with Hwa-eun, feeling rather confident about my burgeoning reputation.
『”You suspect it might not be a poison, but something akin to a soul-capturing technique?”』
What Hwa-eun had deduced wasn’t entirely different—it was a hypothesis that the Blood-Blossom Dream Illusion Butterfly’s venom might not be a true toxin.
『”Yes. You keep awakening on your own, correct? And it occurs after you hear my voice. So I think it is less a poison and more an art that captures the soul, lulling the heart to sleep.
That is likely why only you, who can communicate heart-to-heart, are able to rouse yourself.
It isn’t as if my voice is so frightening it shocks you awake. Hehe.”』
‘GYAAAH!’
I genuinely started at her final jest.
Because, truthfully, the same thought had crossed my mind.
And well… her voice could be somewhat intimidating at times.
‘Does Hwa-eun possess some kind of divine ability?’
I steadied my suddenly racing heart.
Worried she might have sensed my thought, I quickly began to share my own findings.
『”A-anyway, I should tell you what I deduced next.”』
『”Yes! I am very curious. Please, tell me quickly.”』
『”While listening to the village chief, I started to understand how the Blood-Blossom Dream Illusion Butterfly found its way here.
The villagers fell asleep the night after lighting the lanterns. But the butterfly likely arrived on the very night the lanterns were first lit.”』
Based on the chief’s account, I felt fairly certain about the culprit’s path.
It had probably seen the glow from the mountains or ridges near the village and been drawn inward.
Most of my insect companions are nocturnal and typically avoid light rather than seeking it.
So, ordinarily, they wouldn’t be attracted to illumination—but the Blood-Blossom Dream Illusion Butterfly appeared to be nocturnal.
Typically, butterflies are creatures of the day.
Around 100 million years ago, they split from moths and adapted to daylight.
Since butterflies feed on flower nectar, they chose the daytime, when blossoms open.
But if this butterfly fed on blood—from humans and animals alike—it would need to be nocturnal.
After all, animals sleep at night, when they are most vulnerable.
And if it is nocturnal, it would be unable to resist the allure of a bright light.
Even spirit beasts do not stray far from their innate instincts.
So it was logical that this creature was guided into the village by the lantern’s radiance.
Well—perhaps not “drawn” so much as “navigated.”
『”Ah, you mean like other insects that are attracted to lamps?”』
『”Yes, precisely.”』
『”So it followed the light into the village, then likely hid and observed everyone for roughly a day.
Once it confirmed there was no threat, it began putting people to sleep and feeding on them.”』
This is how most wild animal incursions into villages occur.
A creature wanders in by chance, discovers an abundance of food, and decides to stay.
This butterfly probably had the same thought after a day of observation: an entire village of humans, ready for the taking.
From its perspective, the village must have seemed like an endless feast.
『”Ah, I understand now.”』
『”Yes.”』
But when I finished my explanation, Hwa-eun’s response seemed somewhat underwhelmed.
It didn’t appear particularly significant to her.
『”Anyway, have you devised a method to catch it? I hope our deductions were useful…”』
As expected, she asked if I had formulated a plan for its capture.
I smiled and answered with certainty.
『”Of course I have.”』
『”Really? How?”』
『”Since a lantern is what attracted it here, I plan to catch it… using a lantern.”』
『”With a lantern? Please elaborate.”』
『”I will explain after I have caught it.”』
She sounded a little disappointed, but I couldn’t reveal it just yet.
That would ruin the surprise.

***
Two days later.
Finally, the lantern was completed.
We used bamboo from the groves surrounding the village to construct the frame, then layered paper over it to form the classic spherical shape known throughout the Central Plains.
Its diameter? Ten full feet.
It was immense. We suspended it in the village square.
We tied bundles of tall bamboo poles at both ends of the square, erected them upright, then stretched a rope between them and hung the lantern from its center.
“Do you approve of the color?”
“Yes. It is suitable.”
The color was blue.
A specific shade of blue that nocturnal insects find irresistible.
Night-flying insects are particularly drawn to ultraviolet light, so we selected a hue near that part of the spectrum.
And so, that night, with the lantern finally ready…
I stood alone in the starlit square.
Well—not entirely alone.
I had brought Hyang with me, cradled asleep in my arms.
Beneath the lantern, a pot hung containing the carcass of a freshly slaughtered pig.
As the village once again began to be suffused with a soft red glow, I guided Hyang’s fangs into the pig’s flesh.
Then, carefully applying pressure to her venom glands, I began milking her poison into the meat.
Instantly, fire erupted from the pig’s eyes.
—Fwooosh!
As the brilliant flames leaped upward, I set Hyang down gently beside me and began hauling on the rope.
“Ungh—heave, ho—!”
The pot ascended gradually, inch by inch, until it was swallowed by the lantern’s interior.
And the moment it disappeared inside…
The crimson wave spilling from the village was engulfed by the lantern’s radiant blue light.
And then—there it appeared.
The Blood-Blossom Dream Illusion Butterfly, flying in from the depths of the village, heading directly for us.
‘Welcome.
It’s going to be a bit disorienting for you.’