Fabre in Sacheon’s Tang Novel - Chapter 345

Chapter 345
As Village Chief Gu-gil and the Taoist Master reached the entrance to Sosang Village, the sun was dipping below the horizon.

“We have arrived, Taoist Master. This is our home, Sosang Village.”

“Hm. A modest settlement, indeed. Wait—what is that powerful odor?”

“Ugh…”

A revolting smell drifted from the village on the evening breeze.

It was the odor produced by the millipedes. When they had departed earlier, the air had been still, and the smell was not as noticeable. Now, however, the winds that rose with the sunset carried the stench toward them in a thick, oppressive wave.

Just as Gu-gil wrinkled his nose in disgust, the Taoist Master spoke again, his tone concerned.

“The energy here is intense. It will be no simple task to draw them all together.”

“R-really?”

“Without a doubt. A stench this powerful means they are spread throughout the entire village.”

“Does that mean the task will be harder?”

Seeing the serious look on the Taoist Master’s face, Gu-gil felt his own anxiety begin to grow.
Back in Gaoae, the Taoist had radiated nothing but confidence.

Now, witnessing his apprehension right at the village gate, Gu-gil started to fear the situation was more severe than he had imagined.

“Ah, what is there to fear? For the esteemed Taoist Taiheo, no challenge is too great.”

“Ahh… What a relief.”

Hearing that it was not a matter of difficulty, Gu-gil smiled in relief—but that feeling was short-lived.

The Taoist’s very next words caused the eyes of both Gu-gil and the herb gatherer to go wide.

“However, the quantity of talismans required will be greater, and therefore the price must increase. With a swarm this size, far more talismans will be needed to lure them into one place.”

“Whaat!?”

The announcement of a higher cost came as a blow.
They had been so pleased with the price they received for the fleeceflower root, and now they faced losing even more of their silver.

Troubled and skeptical, Gu-gil ventured a question:

“But, when we set out, you mentioned a price of three silver pieces…”

“I did. But having assessed the situation, it is clear many more talismans are needed. And they must be of a stronger variety as well.”

“So… using more talismans means the price goes up?”

Considering the talismans they had seen him playfully sticking to the courtesans earlier, it was difficult to accept this justification for a higher fee.

Noting their doubtful expressions, Taoist Master Taiheo adopted a grave demeanor and launched into an explanation.

“To avoid any misunderstanding, allow me to explain. Do you have any idea why I attached those talismans to the courtesans?”

“Th-there was a reason for it?”

“Naturally! Do you believe a Taoist who has risen above worldly desires would engage in such acts for mere base pleasure?”

“Well…”

Both Gu-gil and the herb gatherer almost nodded without thinking, then caught themselves and shifted awkwardly.
After all, based on the sounds they had overheard from the inner chambers of the *giru*, it had seemed exactly like base pleasure.
Gu-gil himself had spotted at least five courtesans in that room.

At this, Taoist Master Taiheo clasped his hands behind his back and stared thoughtfully toward the far-off mountains.

“There is a purpose behind every action. Millipedes are vulnerable to feminine yin energy. To expel them, one must first channel potent yin energy into the talismans.
This is the reason I invest money in costly *giru* establishments, paying the courtesans to gather that powerful yin energy.”

“But… if you need women, our village has many women as well…”

Thinking it would be less expensive to use village women, the herb gatherer spoke up—but Taiheo shook his finger emphatically.
Absolutely not.

“Do you think I would frivolously spend money on expensive courtesans if there were an alternative? It cannot be just any woman.
While it is true men generally possess yang energy and women yin energy, common yin energy is insufficient.
To repulse the millipedes, one requires *potent* yin energy. This is why I employ courtesans, who have accumulated a profound reserve of yin energy through frequent interaction with numerous men. Nothing less will be effective.”

“I-I understand…”

“So that was the hidden purpose?”

“Precisely! And you assumed I was merely indulging myself? The act of attaching the talismans—that is the method for discreetly siphoning their yin energy. If they were to discover I was draining their vitality, they would be horrified!”

So it had not been simple depravity after all—it served a deeper, strategic goal.
Gu-gil and the herb gatherer both nodded with newfound understanding.

After a brief pause, the herb gatherer elbowed Gu-gil subtly, prompting him to ask warily:

“In that case… what will the new cost be?”

“The village is small, but given this stench, it will demand twice the talismans. Under standard terms, I would have to charge six silver pieces.
But, understanding your circumstances, I cannot bring myself to do that.
I will accept only five silver pieces. Hah… in truth, I am taking a loss. I am making a sacrifice for your benefit.”

“We are deeply grateful, Taoist Master!”
“Yes, thank you sincerely!”

It remained a significant financial pain, but with two silver pieces remaining, it was not a total disaster.
The fact that he was offering them a discount felt like a stroke of good fortune.

Gu-gil hurriedly retrieved the silver from his pouch and passed it to the Taoist Master.
He wanted to secure the price before it could increase any further.

“Please, we place our trust entirely in your hands, Taoist Master.”

Taoist Master Taiheo quickly took the silver and concealed it within his robe.
He responded with an air of assurance.

“Set your minds at ease. Additionally, to empower the stronger talismans, I will need you to procure a white rooster and bring me its blood. Ensure the meat is boiled thoroughly, as well. Powerful talismans consume a great deal of energy. Ahem.”

“We will see to it, Master.”

With that, Village Chief Gu-gil, the herb gatherer, and the Taoist Master proceeded into the village, the foul odor growing ever stronger as they went.

***

Before recounting a little of what was to come, there was a point I needed to address first.

Why had the subject of millipedes arisen so abruptly?
There was a solid explanation for it.

What exactly did I mean by that?
I posed the question to Hwa-eun.

“Hwa-eun, you’ve encountered many millipedes before, correct?”

“Yes. They occasionally emerge in great numbers even on the grounds of the Tang Family estate, creating numerous difficulties.”

“Millipedes are considered pests that plague people, are they not?”

“That is correct. They arrive suddenly in massive swarms and disrupt daily life. I truly dislike them.”

Hwa-eun agreed with strong feeling.

In my previous life, millipedes were known by name but were not typically regarded as pests dangerous to humans.
They were uncommon enough that seeing one was a rarity.

But from the intensity of Hwa-eun’s reaction, it was evident that in this time, they were indeed considered a genuine nuisance.

If one were to ask which pests cause humans harm, the answer shifts with the age and the environment.
As eras change, so do living conditions, and the pests that bother humanity change along with them.

For instance, with the advancement of agriculture and the mass production of grain, insects that infest stores of food became recognized as pests. When humanity began domesticating livestock, fleas became a nuisance by feeding on the animals.
Even in my childhood, head lice were a common issue among schoolchildren—yet with progress in pesticides and hygiene, they have nearly vanished.

So, in my previous life, the most despised insects were cockroaches, particularly among women, alongside mosquitoes, flies, lovebugs, and swarms of mayflies.

But in this era, the situation is somewhat different.
Certainly, cockroaches, flies, and mosquitoes remain serious pests here as well. In addition, pests that had faded away in my previous life—such as fleas, bedbugs, and head lice—are still widespread and troublesome here.

And beyond those, there exists one more significant pest that severely reduces the quality of life in ancient societies: the millipede.
Phylum Arthropoda, subphylum Myriapoda, class Diplopoda—commonly referred to as millipedes.
In Korean, they are named “noraegi.”

“Do you know why millipedes suddenly emerge in such huge numbers and create such problems?”

“No. Only you would know something like that, So-ryong.”

“These organisms subsist on decaying plant material. Therefore, if you collect and heap fallen leaves in warm conditions, they will rapidly begin to appear in massive quantities.”

“Oh, now that you say it, I recall. There were always great numbers of them wherever leaves were piled up.”

In my previous life, millipedes were a rarity.
But here, in this time, they are ubiquitous in areas where people live.
They can gather in such immense numbers that they severely affect people’s lives—and there is a cause for this.

Millipedes depend on rotting plant matter to survive. Without it, they cannot live or reproduce.
In modern cities where green spaces are limited, millipedes did not flourish, so people never really viewed them as pests.

Yet in this era, towns and villages are abundant with plants and trees. Leaves are constantly accumulating, and piles of compost are ordinary—creating an ideal setting for millipedes to breed in enormous numbers and become a major pest.
They can reproduce rapidly and overrun whole houses in very little time.

And while their mere presence in swarms might not alone qualify them as pests, millipedes defend themselves in two manners:
by coiling up to shield their legs and by exuding a foul-smelling liquid.

The true issue lies in that secretion.
It is not deadly to humans, but it emits a horrific stench.

One might ask: “But it’s a defense mechanism. They would only release it when in danger, correct? So why is it a problem?”
The answer is: millipedes are incredibly nervous creatures.
They are so easily startled that even bumping into one another causes them to panic and release their stink. When they gather in large groups, they endlessly set each other off, resulting in a continuous, waves of disgusting odor.

Picture dozens of them, constantly getting frightened and releasing their pungent odor in every direction.
That is essentially what occurs.

Their name, “noraegi,” shares its origin with stinkbugs ◆ Nоvеlіgһt ◆ (Only on Nоvеlіgһt)—because they produce a terrible smell.
Although the specific chemicals responsible differ:
millipede odor consists primarily of benzoquinone and phenol, while stinkbugs mainly release decenal and octenal.

Therefore, stinkbug odor has a sharp, coriander-like scent, but millipede stench resembles highly concentrated rotten eggs.
It is similar to the odor produced by Yeolbi, my low-grade “bomb dust beetle” back home.
Since the foundational chemicals are alike, the comparison is a fair one.

Imagine residing in a village where such a smell saturates the air—how could anyone endure it?

“So, if you simply clear away the fallen leaves and rotting plants, millipedes wouldn’t be such an issue, right?”

“Exactly, Hwa-eun. The most effective method to eradicate millipedes is to burn them and meticulously clean up any decaying leaves. Burning would be the ideal solution.”

Answering her question, I moved toward the main point.
This pertained to a story about a future eastern country.
Or perhaps it was unfolding at this very moment.

“In that eastern country, when spring arrived, people would perform a comprehensive cleaning of their homes and even display talismans.”

“Talismans? To keep millipedes away?”

In my previous life, our own ancestors faced a similar problem.
To manage millipedes, they would clean their homes in spring and post talismans.
These were known as “Millipede Talismans.”
The inscription read: “Hyangnang Gaksi, Leave Swiftly for a Thousand Miles.”
This was a custom widespread during the Joseon era.

In those days, the people of Joseon called the millipedes found inside homes “Hyangnang” or “Hyangnang Bride.”
Much like the folktale of the “Snail Bride,” millipedes entering homes were given human traits—seen as brides who intended no ill will.
They displayed the talisman as a courteous appeal:
“Since you mean no harm, please depart without causing any trouble.”

It was an endearing cultural tradition, and I remembered it because I had once done a broadcast about it.

“Hello, everyone! Today, I have brought an incredible talisman. Post this up, and it will eliminate all your pest problems!”

BuzzingBee: Fabre, are you attempting to found a cult with your audience?
DreamingButterfly: A talisman? A talissssman?
TurtleIsTurtling: Did I actually just hear that correctly?

The reactions at that time were very amusing.
Seeing Hwa-eun’s expression of wide-eyed astonishment now made me smile.

“Well, it wasn’t precisely about driving them away. It was more a hope that they would not return.”

“Oh… I understand?”

“Yes. Millipedes and Taoists—that is what it brought to my mind. Perhaps the Taoist is selling talismans at an inflated price.”

“That is possible. But what would such a talisman say?”

“It would say ‘Hyangnang Bride, Leave Swiftly for a Thousand Miles.’”

“‘Hyangnang Bride, Leave Swiftly for a Thousand Miles’? Meaning, ‘Bride Hyangnang, please depart quickly for a great distance’? Who or what is the Hyangnang Bride?”

“In that eastern country, they referred to millipedes as ‘Hyangnang.’ ‘Bride’ denotes a recently married woman. So they named the millipedes found indoors ‘Hyangnang Bride’—and expressed a hope for them to leave peacefully, without causing damage. If the infestation was serious, they would even append the words ‘Urgently by the Law’ at the conclusion: ‘Hyangnang Bride, Leave Swiftly for a Thousand Miles, Urgently by the Law.’”

“I expected talismans to have frightening words, but that is rather gentle and appealing.”

Later, back on the ship, after discussing all of this with Hwa-eun, we unfolded the bundle of papers.
And everything we had conversed about on our return journey was documented right there.

“So-ryong, are you not the true Taoist?”

Hwa-eun gazed at me with round, astonished eyes, as though I had predicted everything perfectly.
The final page described how a fraudulent Taoist had been journeying from village to village, amassing wealth by selling talismans inscribed with “Hyangnang Bride, Leave Swiftly for a Thousand Miles.”
And our assignment was to look into whether it was indeed a deception.