Fabre in Sacheon’s Tang Novel - Chapter 310

Chapter 310
—Ssshhhhh.
In the days before we departed from the village where the Blood-Blossom Dream Illusion Butterfly had cast everyone into slumber, the skies had been intermittently overcast and clear.
The air was thick with moisture, and the constant croaking of frogs filled every hour.
Yet, not a single drop of rain had fallen.
The Central Plains are so expansive that it’s a regular occurrence for a neighboring town to be drenched while your own location remains perfectly dry.
So, I simply assumed it was raining nearby.
However, roughly two days into our journey with the children, the rain began to fall right above us.
Or rather—it felt as though we had walked directly into a zone where the downpour had already started.
—Ssshhh.
“The sky was clear this morning when we set out.”
When we had breakfast at the inn and began our travels, there was no indication of rain.
It started as a light drizzle—but then the droplets became larger and more persistent.
Fortunately, we encountered an elderly man on the road and purchased rain gear crafted from woven bamboo leaves and reed blades. Without it, we would have been drenched long before reaching the next settlement.
Even so, these cloaks weren’t entirely waterproof.
A few stubborn drops found their way through the gaps in the bamboo weaving and between the reeds.
—Tsrut. 『Yes, Dad. Eek!』
Hyang was voicing her agreement from within the cloak when a raindrop struck one of her antennae, causing it to quiver and brush against my chin.
I looked down. She was clearly displeased with the rain, nestling her head firmly against my chest.
I reached inside the reed cloak to softly stroke the chin of my daughter, who was once again expressing her admiration for me, and then I quickened my steps.
‘Still, trekking through the rain like this, clad in bamboo leaves with the children… it really evokes the image of a “wandering warrior” that Grandpa often described.’
Yes, I was getting wet, but there was a certain romanticism to journeying this way.
In the martial world, the concept of “wandering the rivers and lakes” was an entire culture—traveling from place to place, righting wrongs, and making a name for oneself.
And here I was, roaming to elevate the reputation of the Heavenly Venom Demon Papa.
Seeing my reflection in a puddle, I asked Hyang,
“Hyang, doesn’t your father look impressive right now?”
—Tsrut! 『Very impressive!』
As expected from my daughter—I walked with renewed assurance.
The rain had delayed us. To make it to the next village before nightfall, we needed to move faster.
—Pat. Pat. Pat-pat.
Just then, as we followed the same path we had taken into the area, the sound of the rain intensified.
“You have to be kidding? Why is it suddenly coming down so hard!?”
We were at the midway point between the previous village and the next, making turning back inconvenient, and now the rain was falling in heavy sheets.
Large drops hammered against my bamboo hat, creating a sound reminiscent of beans crackling in a hot pan.
The bamboo and reed cloak was only meant for a gentle shower. Now, water was streaming freely down the inside.
As the dampness began to seep through, I heard Hyang exclaim.
—Tsrut! 『Oh no. That’s cold.』
—Pii!
—Kkuu!
Hongdan, Seol, Bing, and Dong all cried out from within the cloak.
They shuffled around, attempting to avoid the water.
It was obvious we would have to wait under a sizable tree for the rain to subside.
“We’ll have to take cover until this passes. Is there a large tree around here somewhere?”
I was peering through the rainfall when—
—Fwap!
Abruptly, something flew down and settled onto my bamboo hat.
“…Is that you?”
The bean-like pattering of the rain vanished as if by enchantment.
I glanced around and noticed that the immediate area around me was no longer getting wet.
From above my head, I heard that recognizable call.
—Chii!
I couldn’t raise my head, but by looking down, I saw her reflection in a puddle—her wings spread wide.
The Blood-Blossom Dream Illusion Butterfly.
‘Is she sheltering me from the rain?’
She typically maintained her distance and only came when summoned. I suppose I appeared so forlorn that she took pity on me and came to provide cover.
Despite her immense size, she was still a butterfly—remarkably lightweight. I chose to accept her graciousness.
It was also an opportunity to become better acquainted with her.
“Thank you, Blood-Blossom Dream Illusion Butterfly.”
—Chiiii.
She answered aloofly, as was her custom.
Raindrops slid off her wings, falling from their edges.
‘Incredible water resistance.’
Ordinary butterflies seek shelter under leaves when it rains—excessive water can be harmful to them.
But that doesn’t mean butterflies are incapable of flying in the rain.
Their wings are naturally water-repellent.
This is due to their scales.
These scales increase the contact angle between water and the wing’s surface to over 150 degrees, resulting in a remarkable effect.
If you drip water onto a lotus leaf, it doesn’t absorb it—instead, it forms beads and rolls away.
The same principle applies to butterfly wings.
It’s a phenomenon called superhydrophobicity—the wings do not become wet.
Superhydrophobic surfaces resist dirt, inhibit the growth of microbes, and are even self-cleaning when water rolls over them, washing away any debris.
So, in truth, the Blood-Blossom Dream Illusion Butterfly was an impeccably clean, waterproof deity.
“But honestly, how have you been managing on your own? Have you been living alone in the mountains?”
She rarely appeared unless I called for her, so I used this uncommon moment of proximity to inquire about a few things.
This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.
Such as what her life had been like until now.
I thought Hyang could act as my translator.
—Chii.
—Tsrut. 『She said… “Simply.” That’s all, Dad.』
It was a rather disappointing response.
Perhaps she had been solitary for so long that making conversation was difficult.
I asked a few more questions, but the replies were brief: “Simply.” “Mmm.” “Is that so?”
I was pondering how to continue the dialogue when I noticed a river ahead—its water level significantly higher than before.
Clearly, it had been raining here for some time.
And then it came back to me—we would need to cross that river.
We had crossed it previously on our way in.
Not by ferry—there had been a stone bridge.
Where the path ended, a crowd had formed near the river’s edge.
I couldn’t yet see the bridge from my position, but since people were gathered and talking in low voices, I addressed the Blood-Blossom Dream Illusion Butterfly.
“Would you mind hiding for a moment? [N O V E L I G H T] Or perhaps fly away and return later?”
—Chii.
She responded, but I could still feel her weight on my head, indicating she hadn’t left.
She likely just folded her wings and remained concealed.
The sound of raindrops striking my bamboo hat like roasting beans resumed.
I hurried over and joined the murmuring crowd—
And saw the place where the bridge should have been.
It was gone.
Completely underwater.
The rain must have been relentless here for a while. The swollen river had engulfed the bridge entirely.
“Well, this is a complication.”
The rain showed no signs of stopping, and now our route was obstructed.
I moved away from the group and spoke softly to Hyang.
The road was blocked, but we were fortunate to have a companion with wings.
‘Hyang, could you please ask the Blood-Blossom Dream Illusion Butterfly… if she would be agreeable to carrying us across?’
—Shhhh. Ssshhhh. Tsrr?
—Chiiiii.
—Tsrrut. 『She says no, Dad. We are too heavy. She cannot take off with all of us.』
Upon reflection, if her wings were rapid and powerful like a bee’s, she might have managed, but lifting all of us with those large, graceful butterfly wings was not feasible.
Bees are robust fliers because they need to carry nectar, but butterflies are only built to carry themselves.
It seemed our only option was to wait for the rain to cease and the water level to recede.
But there was no village in the vicinity.
The nearest one was on the opposite side of the river, which was currently impassable due to the rain.
Returning would take half a day, and we were already at the halfway point. Turning back now seemed inefficient.
As I stood there considering our options, the murmuring of the nearby crowd grew more animated.
“This road is impassable. What should we do? Should we go back?”
“Yes, it appears so.”
“I suppose we must find another way.”
At the mention of an alternative path, the atmosphere suddenly grew still.
I listened carefully—it seemed there truly was another route.
‘Oh? There’s another path?’
Focusing, I overheard the following conversation.
“You there, traveler—you seem familiar with this region. Is there another way through?”
“Do you see that mountain over there?”
“Where? Ah, that distant one?”
“Indeed. If you cross over that mountain, there is a village on the other side with a bridge. It is unlikely to be flooded.”
“But if we ascend the mountain now, won’t we be overtaken by darkness?”
“There is an old, abandoned Daoist temple near the peak. You could spend the night there.”
“Then we should make haste, should we not?”
“There is also a deserted house nearby. I intend to wait there until the rain diminishes—it is not worthwhile to journey further in this deluge.”
“True. Would you be willing to guide us, then?”
“Certainly.”
“May we join you?”
“Of course. As the saying goes, all under heaven are brothers. That house is quite spacious—there is room for everyone.”
“Thank you.”
“Many thanks.”
The majority of the assembled people were merchants. They concurred and began moving toward the abandoned house the man had mentioned.
He was correct. Traveling further in this rain would be unwise.
Just then, a woman from the departing group turned back and called out to me.
“You there, young man, won’t you come with us?”
“I’ll be fine, thank you. I need to maintain a quicker pace.”
Likely because I was the only young person remaining behind, she felt concerned for me.
Her voice was laced with anxiety.
“In this rain? You really should wait it out, shouldn’t you?”
“She is right—heed your elders.”
“Truly, where could you possibly be going in weather like this?”
Even the men added their encouragement.
Civilians in the Central Plains often used formal language around martial artists as a precaution. But since I was draped in bamboo and reeds, they probably mistook me for an ordinary traveler and addressed me with familiar warmth.
Still, I could not accompany them.
I needed to dry off the children—and I certainly couldn’t reveal them in front of strangers.
Furthermore, they had mentioned an abandoned Daoist temple on the mountain. It would be preferable to stay there alone.
I wouldn’t truly be alone, as I had the children and the Blood-Blossom Dream Illusion Butterfly with me. Besides, having once resided in an abandoned Daoist temple myself, it felt more like a familiar refuge than some dilapidated house.
“I am grateful for your concern, but I must hurry. I will continue ahead.”
“Hey, young man?”
“Let him be. He is determined.”
“Very well, then.”
I bid them farewell and started toward the distant mountain.
After a lengthy ascent on a path worn by generations of travelers, I arrived at the summit—
And there it was: the abandoned Daoist temple.
It reminded me of the place I once called home.
The sun had already dipped below the horizon, and twilight enveloped the landscape.
I stepped across the partially crumbled entrance and went inside.
Although abandoned, the main hall was in surprisingly good condition.
Inside, it was evident that people had stopped here to rest or seek shelter from the rain, much like I was doing now.
Piles of dry reeds and branches were stacked in a corner, and there were remnants of previous campfires.
“Good. There is some dry wood left.”
I needed to build a fire and dry everyone off—the temperature was dropping as night descended.
“Alright, time for a bit of nostalgia.”
I arranged the wood, pricked my fingertip with a needle to draw a single drop of blood, and then added one drop of Hyang’s venom.
—Whoosh.
Flames erupted to life, and warmth rapidly filled the space.
***
Meanwhile, in the abandoned house, the merchants who had taken refuge lit a fire and began sharing modest meals.
Some roasted dried meat on heated stones, while others collected rainwater in pots to prepare a simple gruel.
As they ate, the same woman who had invited me to join them earlier spoke again, her face still etched with concern.
“I hope that young man who went on ahead is safe.”
Outside, the rain had begun to fall with even greater intensity.
“The path is slippery, certainly, but not terribly treacherous. He will be fine.”
“Well, he said it was urgent. There was nothing more we could do.”
“Precisely.”
Everyone nodded in agreement.
Just then, the man who had guided them there clapped his hands as if recalling something, his tone now uneasy.
—Clap.
“Ah… curses. I forgot.”
“What is it, traveler?”
Everyone turned to him, curious. He spoke with a pained expression.
“Well… I just remembered. Beginning about two months ago, there have been accounts of a ghost being sighted near the old Daoist temple on the mountain.”
“A… ghost!?”
“A ghost, you say?”
Every gaze shifted toward the window.