Fabre in Sacheon’s Tang Novel - Chapter 372

Chapter 372
We had welcomed the white pangolin and her infant into our group, but bringing them aboard the ship immediately was not an option.
For any other creature, we would have done so without delay—however, a refrigerated environment was necessary.
To move them without harm, a section of the vessel required alteration.
The ice cave had been essential for the baby, who was not yet able to endure warmer conditions.
The mother had expressed that she would manage, but that her little one required continual cold.
Thus, modifications to the ship were essential.
My intention was to eventually arrange a place for them within the Hall of Ten Thousand Poisons back at the Tang Clan estate, before the craftsmen could interfere—but first, the issue of transportation had to be resolved.
“Our first step is to modify the ship.”
“Are you suggesting we change a cabin into a refrigerated chamber, So-ryong?”
“Correct.”
“Is such a thing feasible?”
“I recall the design of a tangchahapja—one of those insulated containers used to keep food warm. The concept should work in reverse. The principle of retaining cold is much the same as retaining heat.
After the structure is ready, Seol and Bing can saturate the area with cold energy. We might also use some of the mother’s own ice to help.”
“Ah, the tangchahapja.”
A tangchahapja is a type of food box from the Central Plains, crafted to maintain warmth. It consists of two layers with an gap in between that is packed with materials like cattail, reed, or straw for insulation.
It sees occasional use in kitchens, and inspired by this, I intended to construct an appropriate chamber for the newborn.
“Sister Seol, it’s possible that people may come and stir up more trouble, so please remain at the cave entrance with Hwa-eun and stand guard. I will leave Yeondu, Bini, Seol, Bing, and Dong with you. Cho will deliver meals, and we will send word through Seol or Bing once the ship is prepared. I rely on you as well, Hwa-eun.”
“Understood, So-ryong.”
“We will keep a careful watch, So-ryong. Have no concern.”
“Also, please request that Jeokwol reform the frozen entrance so it appears normal, not sealed by ice.”
— Chhhhhh.
In case any herb collectors or locals wandered in after we departed and disturbed the white pangolin mother, I asked sister Jeokwol to make the entrance look natural rather than frozen.
Even so, I had left sister Seol and Hwa-eun behind, along with Yeondu, Bini, Seol, Bing, and Dong, so there were enough of us to manage any surprise incidents.
Leaving a team to safeguard the white pangolin, I returned to the ship with Cho.
“So-ryong-nim has returned!”
“The young master is back!”
As the crew announced my arrival, I had barely disembarked when Gwiseong hurried out from the cabin.
“You’re back? Well—did you locate the spirit beast?”
“Yes, brother.”
“What kind is it this time? So, So.”
His wife emerged right behind him, asking with keen interest.
“Are you familiar with pangolins?”
“Oh, pangolins? Certainly. They are endearing, always rolling themselves into a ball.”
“Yes, precisely. The spirit beast we discovered this time resembles a pangolin, but its color is pure white.”
“Goodness, that must be striking.”
“A snow-white pangolin? I am eager to see it.”
Life among us had clearly affected them—they were now fully aligned with my Fabre-like inclinations.
When I mentioned there was also a baby, her excitement visibly grew.
“You won’t believe it—there is a baby as well!”
“Truly? I have never seen a baby pangolin. But… why did you not bring them?”
“Yes, So-ryong, where are sister Seol and the others?”
They inquired why the rest had not come back with me.
I explained the situation.
I would have brought them along instantly as well, but they required specific accommodations.
“Ah, the white pangolin—her name is Baek Seolgap—requires a cold space for her infant, so I could not bring them immediately. I must create a cold room on the ship.”
“Ah, now I understand.”
With that, I called over the boatswain who was nearby.
If we were to modify the ship, his assistance would be needed.
“Boatswain.”
“Yes, So-ryong-nim. I will fetch the shipwright at once.”
He must have been listening to our conversation, for he went to get the shipwright immediately.
The shipwright was a man who once resided in Lee Tae’s village in the Three Gorges of the Yangtze. He now looked after our ship. After a brief time, the boatswain returned with him from the cabin.
“You asked for me, So-ryong-nim?”
“Yes, I require your help once more—it has been some time.”
“My help? Of course. I do not have much else occupying me these days.”
He claimed to have little to do, but that was merely his humble way.
The shipwright was exceedingly diligent.
He was always plugging leaks with pine resin or beeswax and overseeing the stock of timber on board.
“I have found a new spirit beast, but her newborn can only live in frigid settings.”
“Ah, so we must transform one of the cabins into a cold room.”
“Yes.”
He nodded at first, but then his face showed uncertainty.
“I have never constructed anything like that before, So-ryong…”
“Do not worry—I have a design in mind. Let us go to the cabin.”
“As you wish.”
I brought the shipwright and boatswain into the cabin, drew the structure I was imagining, and described it to them.
It was, in essence, a storage room for cold.
“We will pack the space between the wooden panels with chopped reeds, cattail, and straw—similar to a tangchahapja. But we will be preserving cold, not heat.”
“I understand. Then we must make it as tight as possible and concentrate on waterproofing the interior.”
“The interior?”
I tilted my head in question. He then elaborated.
“If the ice thaws and dampens the wood, it may begin to decay.”
“Ah, naturally.”
Even with effective insulation, ice will eventually melt, and if that water seeps into the wooden floor, it will cause harm.
I approved of his suggestion.
“We will cover the inside of the cabin with melted beeswax, then put a layer of sand on the floor. Over that, we will place the mixture of cattail, reeds, and straw.
And I will also coat the wooden panels above with beeswax.
Pine resin is too adhesive for use indoors, so beeswax is the preferable choice.”
“Yes, shipwright.”
He was meticulous and systematic—which was actually reassuring. But as we finished, he added something with hesitation.
“The issue is… this will likely consume all the reserves we acquired when we took the ship. We will need to purchase more beeswax, and given the quantity required, it will be quite costly…”
Beeswax is one of the finest waterproofing substances of this age, along with pine resin.
But beeswax is considerably more expensive than resin, which is why the supplies left by Geum Gi-ryung might be depleted.
This did not concern me, however.
Beeswax is scarce and valuable because it must be collected from beekeepers. Bees are small, and they yield only a modest amount of wax, so gathering a sufficient quantity demands great effort.
But the shipwright had never been to the Tang Clan estate—that was why he expressed this worry.
The location with the greatest abundance of beeswax in all the Central Plains is our Tang Clan.
To be more exact—
I am the beeswax magnate of the Central Plains.
So-ryong, the Master of Wax.
“We can simply request some beeswax from the Golden-Furred Wasp Kings, so there is no need for concern.”
They would never deny such an appeal back home in any case.
“You need not worry about that. The Tang Clan has an ample supply. We can take on more the next time we moor near the estate.”
“Understood. Then I will proceed to renovate the small storage room next to your cabin on the first level, exactly as you have outlined. I will reposition the door to open into your room.”
The shipwright was talking about the small storage area under the stairs on the first deck—a space about the size of one room, next to my cabin. It was typically used for storing water jugs and tools for cleaning the deck, but he would convert it.
“Ah, that spot. Ideal. Please go ahead. And let us raise the door frame slightly—it will assist in containing the cold.”
“Understood. We will raise the frame and fit a double door.”
“Excellent.”
The renovations required two days to finish. Once completed, a cold-storage room was now connected to my cabin. I had Seol and Dong come beforehand to chill the space, and then I went back to collect the others.
I could not move everyone simultaneously, so sister Seol, Bini, Seol, Bing, and Dong were already on the ship.
As we materialized in the air, Hwa-eun waved to us from in front of the cave below.
“So-ryong!”
“Hwa-eun! Lower the crate!”
“Alright!”
Thunk.
A large crate was set down where Hwa-eun had moved aside.
It was the tangchahapja—the insulated food container—we had brought to carry the white pangolin and her baby.
The voyage to the Tang estate by ship was one matter, but even the trip to the ship demanded strict temperature regulation.
With the crate secured and ropes held by Yeondu and Cho, we descended. As the lid was opened, prepared cold air billowed out.
Seol had pre-filled it with cold energy.
I hurried inside and called out,
“It is ready! You may come out now!”
— Bbaeu.
From behind a substantial wall of ice—
At my call, the white pangolin mother suddenly shot forward like a cannonball.
BOOM! CRRRACK.
She crashed into the ice wall and started spinning, scattering a flurry of snowflakes in all directions.
The impact gouged out the ice, creating an opening.
Even Bini could not have shattered that wall—so I had been pondering how to manage it. That technique? Remarkable.
Once the hole was open, she gathered her baby from the rear of the cave and hurried out on two legs.
Well, “hurried” by her standards—it was more of a clumsy waddle.
Honestly, too endearing.
Pangolins employ their hefty tails for balance and can walk upright. Since the white pangolin shares the same basic anatomy, she came ambling out on two legs.
Like a toddler taking its first steps—an adorable, waddling white pangolin.
“Over here. Right in here.”
Waiting by the crate, Hwa-eun indicated it, and the creature climbed directly in and made herself comfortable.
“Do not worry. It will only be a short while longer.”
— Bbaeu.
— Bbaae.
The mother nodded in reply, and the baby echoed her right after.
Click.
I closed the lid and signaled for immediate movement.
The box was not designed to hold cold air for extended periods—it was meant for brief containment.
The mother would generate cold energy from within, but there was no time to lose.
“Yeondu, Cho—let’s go!”
— Tssrr! “Understood, Dad.”
— Shaaa. “Yes, So-ryong-nim.”
Cho coiled around me, and Yeondu around Hwa-eun, then we lifted into the sky.
The ropes they held raised the crate carrying the white pangolins inside.
“Let’s fly!”
With the crate in tow, we flew over a lake—our ship, dimly illuminated in the darkness, came into sight.
It was nighttime, and Geumdo was no longer concealing himself—he had extended his head and was yawning.
When we reached the ship, I called out to Cho and Yeondu.
“Gently now. Set it down carefully.”
— Tssrr.
— Shaaaa.
Lowered with care into the darkness, the crate landed at the center of the deck.
Thump.
Once it was down, Cho and Yeondu released it and alighted on the deck.
People hurried over the moment we landed.
“They are back!”
“Is So-ryong’s spirit beast inside there?”
“Yes, but let us wait to view them properly indoors.”
“Understood.”
With assistance from Gungbong, sister-in-law, and several others eager to catch a glimpse of the snow-white pangolin, we carried the crate into my room.
“Here, correct?”
“Yes.”
They set it before the new door connected to my cabin.
As we opened the double-layered door and cold air seeped out, I raised the crate lid.
Bathed in the light of lanterns, the white pangolin mother peeked her head out.
The baby was curled comfortably on top of her head.
“Oh my, how darling.”
“Kyaa—it makes you want to squeeze them.”
“I wish to pet them.”
Excited exclamations reverberated around us.
Clearly, they were utterly captivating to the feminine heart.
“Alright, alright, settle down. This is your home for the present—merely a temporary pause before we journey to your permanent home, okay?”
— Bbaeu.
— Bbaae.
The mother climbed from the crate and into the cold room we had built for them.
From behind, one of the women inquired:
“Incidentally, what are their names, So-ryong?”
Sister-in-law appeared curious, so I smiled and said,
“The mother’s name is Sunbaek (Pure White). The baby’s name is Baekbaek (White-White).”
I had considered naming her Baek Seol (Snow White), but we already have a Seol. So the mother became Sunbaek. The baby, Baekbaek.
Also, due to her bbaae cry—it matched the sound nicely.
After I provided their names, everyone praised my naming ability.
“Sunbaek and Baekbaek. Those names suit them completely.”
“Yes, they truly do.”
“Such excellent names.”
But truly—what did all their admiration signify?
What I required was the approval of the creatures themselves.
In a soft tone, I asked,
“If we are to live together, I need names for you. So we will use Sunbaek for the mother, and Baekbaek for the baby. Is that acceptable?”
— Bbaeu.
— Bbaae.
Their replies seemed to indicate they approved.
With the frozen mountain now behind us, it was time to seek out the vortex.