Fabre in Sacheon’s Tang Novel - Chapter 389

Chapter 389
—Creeeak.

I eased the door ajar and glanced out toward the pavilion. Though there was no rain, an unusual stillness hung in the air.
On a clear day like this, the bees should have been a constant, humming stream, flying out and returning with their gathered nectar.
But not a single one was entering or leaving. The only sound was the faint rustle of the Golden-Furred Wasp Kings’ wings drifting through the open window.
Were they all simply at rest?
No—that wasn’t the case. It was obvious they were attuned to the Queen’s disposition.
“So this is what Father-in-law was talking about? Ugh… how did this become such a mess? I’ve said it before, they’re partners, not pets.”
I sighed to myself, thinking they were more like a temperamental spouse than anything, and moved into the inner garden where the pond was located.
I then started making my way promptly toward the main pavilion.
—Step. Step.
I needed to see Ranghu.
Father-in-law had recently sent a letter, and according to him, he’d failed to include any mention of Ranghu, which had put the centipede into a profound sulk.
I didn’t even write that letter.
Hwa-eun was the one who had sent several messages to placate the elders. While she’d inquired after many individuals, Ranghu’s name was never among them. And that had upset him? So it seemed.
When I’d asked how a centipede could possibly understand the contents of a letter, Father-in-law had simply gazed into the distance without a word.
“Feels like he made a mistake and I’m the one who has to make it right.”
I was walking toward the pavilion, quietly assigning blame to Father-in-law for the entire situation—
—SPLASH.
An abrupt splash of water made me turn.
From the pond, the Ho-ye twins had noticed me and were now swimming toward me with eager energy.
Their bodies, marked with yellow stripes, cut through the water in smooth, undulating motions.
Back when I’d left to find the Ji-yeong Snake, I’d only managed to sneak a few quick head pats while the others were watching. But now they were swimming right up to me, seeming almost pleased with themselves?
These two had once been scared of any human. Maybe, after our time apart, they had actually missed me.
“Seom! Byeok!”
Seom, the female, and Byeok, the male.
Calling their names, I rushed to the pond’s edge. They lifted their heads above the water.
—Waaeee!
—Wae!
As if demanding, “What took you so long?”, they let out their distinctive cries and even began to haul themselves out of the water onto the bank.
I was carefully trying to avoid an electric shock when both of them suddenly dropped their heads onto my knees as I crouched down.
It was a clear request for affection.
I was taken aback by this sudden show of attachment.
“What in the world… why are they being so clingy all of a sudden?”
I considered their behavior and formed a theory.
“Perhaps because they’re in a place full of people, and I was their only point of familiarity… they grew worried when I left.”
Ho-ye beasts are notoriously skittish.
Plunged into a bustling new home, and with me gone—likely after saying “I’ll be back soon” and then not returning for days—they must have felt uneasy, simply waiting for me to come back.
Truthfully, I had been concerned that departing before we’d fully bonded might have broken our fledgling connection.
With creatures, if you don’t solidify that bond, you often have to begin all over again.
If you haven’t firmly established yourself as a “safe person” in their memory, you’re just another unfamiliar face the next time you meet.
Animals require patience to build trust, but once they do, it’s lasting.
So I had assumed I’d need to restart the process—yet it seemed the separation had somehow helped.
These two were likely more intelligent than average animals, which would account for their unusual behavior.
In this mindset, they certainly wouldn’t electrocute me.
Overjoyed, I reached out and gently rubbed their heads.
I’d honestly been wanting to do this daily ever since before I left.
“Aww, you adorable creatures. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. The journey ended up taking much longer than I planned. Have you been doing alright?”
—Wae.
“Was everyone good to you? Did you manage okay without any problems?”
—Wae, wae-aaaee.
I couldn’t understand their specific sounds, but their tone conveyed a clear sense of grievance over my extended absence.
Just as I was continuing to apologize and pet them, a noise suddenly erupted from the pavilion.
—BZZZZZZ!
An irritated, vibrating hum, full of clear annoyance.
Right then, I knew I’d committed a major error.
“Oh no—I was meant to go straight to Ranghu! But the Ho-yes rushed over to me out of nowhere… damn, this is terrible.”
I had come here for the express purpose of appeasing Ranghu’s injured feelings, but I’d gotten distracted by petting the Ho-yes and had temporarily forgotten about him.
That buzzing unmistakably meant: “You were supposed to attend to me first, and yet you went to THEM?”
I felt a pang of guilt, but Ranghu had to be my priority.
“You two, I really have to go speak with Ranghu. We’ll catch up more a bit later, okay? Sorry to leave so suddenly—I’ll come find you again after I’ve seen him, alright?”
—Waaee.
—Wae.
They nodded as if they comprehended, then slipped back beneath the water’s surface.
As I turned away with a faint smile, I noticed a familiar antenna quickly withdraw from an open window on one of the upper floors of the pavilion.
Yes. Ranghu was undoubtedly in a mood.
But it wasn’t a complete withdrawal.
It felt more like: “I am upset with you… but I still expect you to come and make it better.”
Thankfully, it wasn’t an outright rage.
Drawing on all my experience with nurturing spirit beasts—and, frankly, dating Hwa-eun—I could discern a way to resolve this.
“This is a task for the Spicy Fabre.”
I opened the door to the pavilion and entered. A deep, sugary aroma immediately washed over me.
The five-story structure, Dokhwa-ru (Poisonous Flower Pavilion), was saturated with the smell of honey.
—Click. Clack.
I made my way up to the second floor, where honey was dripping from the ceiling.
The hives must have been over capacity.
Even in the wild, when bees produce too much honey, it can overflow like this. That was likely what had occurred here.
I collected a drop on my finger and tasted it—an intense sweetness flooded my mouth.
On the third floor, honey was still trickling down, creating small, sticky puddles on the floor.
“I wasn’t here to gather it, so it built up and spilled over, huh?”
If I had been present, I would have harvested it periodically and prevented this. I made a mental note to request some from Ranghu later.
When I arrived on the fourth floor, I discovered the entire level had been converted into a honeycomb.
Originally, only the fifth floor was designated as the hive, with the fourth just starting to be developed—but it appeared ★ 𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 ★ the construction was now finished.
“The hive has really grown.”
I surveyed the area, then addressed a bee on the honeycomb wall.
“Hey there, how are you doing? Could you let me know where Ranghu is? I’m here to see him.”
—BZZZZZ.
But the bee gave no real answer. It just buzzed dismissively and paid me no further attention.
Had Ranghu instructed them not to communicate with me?
Since I’d spotted his antenna on the fifth floor earlier, I decided to head up—when suddenly, the bee I had spoken to began performing a waggle dance.
“Well, now.”
Bees communicate using pheromones—but they also use movement.
There are two primary dances: the round dance and the waggle dance.
The round dance is, true to its name, a series of circles, used when a food source is within 100 meters. The scent and pheromones on the returning bee help the others locate the blooms.
The waggle dance, however, is for sources farther away. The angle of the bee’s waggle shows the direction of the flowers, and the length of the waggle indicates the distance.
For instance, a waggle lasting one second means the flowers are one kilometer away.
It was once believed this was purely instinctive, but recent studies suggest bees can also learn the dance from their elders—much like humans learn language.
I observed the small bee tracing a figure-eight pattern in the air, then gave its head a soft tap.
“Clever thing.”
Not wanting to delay, I hurried up the stairs.
From the rapid, short waggles of its rear, it wasn’t signaling a distance—just indicating that Ranghu was directly above, in the direction the center of the figure-eight was pointing.
I dashed up into what was now essentially a labyrinth of honeycombs.
As I proceeded, a few bees adjusted their positions almost imperceptibly, steering me toward the Queen’s chamber.
“You all have your work cut out for you, don’t you?”
I felt a twinge of pity for them, constantly catering to such a mercurial monarch.
After navigating a few chambers, I finally saw Ranghu, suspended near the window.
He must have been there the whole time—observing from just out of sight.
I moved quickly, wrapping my arms around him from behind and holding him firmly to prevent him from thrashing or flying away.
My strategy was to envelop him in an embrace and clarify everything before he could work himself into a state.
“Ranghu! How have you been? I missed you!”
—B-bzzz. Bzzz-bzzz.
He beat his wings in surprise, squirming within my hold.
I used the most soothing tone I could muster.
“You were worried I was away for too long, weren’t you? Father-in-law told me—he said you were hurt that the letter didn’t include you.”
—Bzzz.
The instant I said it, Ranghu ceased his struggling.
It was now obvious: the letter was indeed the core of the problem, exactly as Father-in-law had stated.
I continued without stopping.
“I didn’t write that letter, you know. Hwa-eun did. She signed it for me because I was occupied. Do you really think I’d ever forget to check on my Ranghu?”
“So please, don’t be angry.”
I wasn’t sure of the exact spot bees prefer to be stroked, but I kept gently rubbing his head while maintaining a one-armed hug.
Finally, Ranghu tilted his head a little and looked at me.
—Bzzz.
Then he inflated his abdomen and released what seemed like a heavy sigh. His antennae rose and made contact with my head.
That was surely his method of saying all was forgiven.
I adjusted him to perch on my shoulder. As I did, his wings gave a gentle tremble—as if to add, “See that you don’t.”
—Bzzzz.
“Alright, alright. I understand. I won’t vanish on you like that again.”
To be honest, it was resolved more easily than I’d anticipated.
After navigating a relationship with Hwa-eun and raising so many spirit beasts, a scenario like this no longer intimidated me.
Well… I might have been slightly anxious earlier, questioning if I could mend it.
“Heh, this sort of thing is elementary for the renowned Spicy Fabre.”
Just as I was basking in the success of reconciling with Ranghu, I heard voices from downstairs—Cho and Cheongyu of the Golden-Crested Wasp Kings.
—Tsssss.
『This is the spot that gets the sun.』
—Shiaa.
『It has been some time. That area over there seems pleasant.』
I looked down through the open window and saw Cho guiding a group of new arrivals into the inner garden.
The recent acquaintances we’d made were being given a tour by the veterans. They must have followed Cho to my residence and were now exploring the garden at the back.
Since Sunbaek and Baekbaek, who require cooler temperatures, hadn’t been moved here yet, and Geumdo (the golden turtle) and Heukjeomi (the aquatic one) also need specific environments, only the others had come to the pavilion.
—Bzzzz.
Ranghu, still positioned on my shoulder, vibrated his wings while examining the unfamiliar group below.
He was likely inquiring about their identities.
“Oh, these are the new companions I met on my journey. Come on, Ranghu, let’s go welcome them.”
—Bzzzz.
At the mention of introductions, he agreed—exchanges between beasts are a matter of courtesy.
At Ranghu’s signal, a few worker bees flew over and attached themselves to me.
As they started beating their wings together, I was lifted from the floor and carried smoothly out the window.
We then began a gentle descent toward the gathering.
—Tsssss!
『Dad!』
Cho called out the moment he saw me.
“Yes, I’m back, Cho. Remember to greet Ranghu properly, okay?”
—Tsssss.
『Sis! Long time no see!』
—Bzzzz.
I landed next to Cho at the head of the group, grinned, and proceeded to introduce each newcomer to Ranghu.
“This is Juhwang, the Ji-yeong Snake and Yeondu’s partner. Next to him is Sandan, the Double-Blossomed Orchid Mantis. Beside her is Ranghyang, the Red-Cloud Black Millipede. That small, round fellow is Yeolbi, the Hot-Fart Beetle.”
“The ones not present right now are Geumdo, the Millennium Golden Turtle; Sunbaek and Baekbaek, the White-Shell Pangolins; and Heukjeomi, the Black-Spotted Stingray. You can meet them another time.”
Ranghu buzzed in a friendly manner and flew forward to acknowledge the new beasts.
He hesitated briefly in front of Ranghyang, but overall, his demeanor was positive—a sign that my attempts to reconcile had been effective.
And then—
I felt a slight pressure on my head, accompanied by the gentle, known sound of Jeokwol, the Blood-Blossom Dream Illusion Butterfly.
—Chii.
“Oh, that’s right! Jeokwol, I forgot you were there. My apologies! Ranghu, this is Jeokwol, the Blood-Blossom Dream Illusion Butterfly.”
There were so many individuals to present that I had unintentionally overlooked Jeokwol.
I offered her a regretful smile, then softly prompted Ranghu.
As I made the introduction, his antennae jerked upright in astonishment.
—Bzzzz?
Then his entire body gave a small, visible shake.
Jeokwol inclined her head curiously from her perch on mine—but Ranghu abruptly spun around and shot back toward the pavilion.
—SLAM!
The hive’s window banged shut behind him almost simultaneously.
So much for a smooth resolution.
He was unquestionably furious.
I had just claimed I was “too busy to write,” and then I appeared with a beautiful new spirit beast—Jeokwol. It was no surprise he felt deceived.
Evidently, from his perspective, my “busy” excuse was just a cover for acquiring attractive new friends. That… was not acceptable to Ranghu.
“Really… I have absolutely no clue how to smooth this over.”