Fabre in Sacheon’s Tang Novel - Chapter 392

Chapter 392
After guiding the waterspout to drift upriver, Heukjeom swam back to me, wiggling with an air that begged for approval.
But I was too preoccupied to immediately indulge his adorable display.
Under normal circumstances, I would have hurried over to shower him with affection until he was practically floating with happiness, but at that moment, I could only stare blankly as the waterspout crept steadily against the current.
The updraft from the swirling vortex lifted the edge of my robe, making it flutter gently.
—Thud! Thud!
Then it happened.
The sky seemed to dim abruptly as Cheongwol’s weighty footsteps shook the ground.
My trance broke when a familiar patterned shell filled my view—Cheongwol had moved swiftly to shield me with his enormous form.
His urgent voice echoed in my mind.
—Grrr! 『Danger!』
Danger? What kind of danger?
I tilted my head, puzzled.
—Drip. Drip…
Drops of water began sprinkling down from above.
Oh… The water that was drawn upward is now returning to the ground.
It was just like Cheongwol, despite his immense size, to detect something so faint and respond with such precision.
I smiled faintly, assuming he was protecting me from a light shower.
Then a small stone tumbled down through the air.
—Tock.
It struck a rock in the riverbed, sending off a small spark as it bounced.
And in that instant, I grasped what Cheongwol had been warning me about.
What becomes of the pebbles drawn into a waterspout?
Everything that goes up must eventually come down—that’s a fundamental rule.
Even among the stars, where a black hole draws matter inward, there must be a white hole somewhere expelling it.
The waterspout had pulled in both water and stones, and now they were raining from the sky like hail.
—Thudududud!
—Thump! Craack!
Though the waterspout wasn’t particularly large, the rocks fell with enough force to splinter tree branches and crater the riverbank. Some even skipped across the stony shore like sharp fragments.
“Everyone, find shelter! No—this way!”
“Hurry! Take cover!”
“Head toward Master So-ryong!”
The Tang Clan warriors scrambled beneath trees or slid beneath Cheongwol’s bulk like runners diving for base.
Startled, Geumdo withdrew his limbs into his shell—but as a Bighead Turtle, he couldn’t fully retract his large head. Stones began peppering his exposed skull.
—Tock. Clack.
The pebbles struck Geumdo’s head and shell with a series of almost cheerful, ringing sounds.
“The spirit beast is being attacked!”
The warriors cried out in alarm, though the situation wasn’t truly serious.
While Bighead Turtles can’t fully retract their heads, their skulls and beak-like jaws are just as resilient as their shells. The stones weren’t capable of causing real harm.
Even so, with every impact, Geumdo blinked and flinched, clearly unsettled.
—Buurrrr.
And then there was Heukjeom—who had been playfully splashing by the bank seeking attention—now staring up at the falling stones with a stunned look. He seemed to realize the trouble he’d caused.
—Tzzzrr?
“Heukjeom! Stop it—disperse the waterspout!”
At my command, Heukjeom instantly swam upriver toward the swirling vortex he’d created.
He moved so quickly he seemed to fly over the water before diving beneath the surface.
The moment he disappeared, a new whirlpool began forming.
But this one… was different.
Its rotation.
Heukjeom must have started spinning in the opposite direction, because the new whirlpool churned against the current.
Just like before, this vortex spiraled upward into a waterspout and began drifting toward the first.
The two waterspouts twisted and curled toward one another.
—Shwaaaaa—
Then they met—like two spinning tops colliding.
Both immediately lost momentum and dissolved into nothing.
—Drip. Drop. Drip…
What remained of the lifted water and stones pattered down, and calm returned to the riverbank.
I stepped out from under Cheongwol’s protection to survey the damage.
“Whoa…”
The trees were badly damaged from the stone hail, their branches broken and leaves scattered. Even the deck of our moored barge was pocked with embedded rocks.
—Tzzt…
Heukjeom, now fully aware he’d caused significant chaos, floated near the bank looking deeply dismayed.
I clicked my tongue softly, glanced around once more, then walked over to him and spoke gently.
“It’s alright, Heukjeom. Just be more careful when you use that ability next time.”
—Tzzzz…
“You really are amazing, though.”
He was already trembling with anxiety. Scolding him now would only break his spirit, so I gave him a reassuring pat and praised him instead.
It called to mind a memory from my past life—a piece of advice from a friend who raised dogs.
Whenever their puppy misbehaved, they would say:
“Do you know what a ‘dung-dog’ is?”
“You mean a stray? A mixed breed?”
“No. A ‘dung-dog’ is what you create if you constantly punish your dog for every error. It becomes afraid of every raised hand. It stops guarding its home or family out of fear. That’s what makes a dog worthless.”
I couldn’t allow Heukjeom to become a dung stingray, could I?
Really—no one was injured, and he was only trying to be helpful.
Then a familiar voice called from above.
“So-ryong!”
I looked up to see Hwa-eun descending, cradled in Yeondu’s coils, her face full of astonishment as she took in the scene.
“What in the world happened here? I thought you came to collect venom from the little ones.”
“Ah. That’s right…”
Yes. I had originally come to visit the children after a few hectic days—and also to gather venom samples.
Grandfather Mandok Shingun had requested samples from our new spirit beast companions to study their toxins.
“Well… I got a bit carried away with their playful behavior.”
When I answered a little awkwardly, Hwa-eun shot me a look of pure incredulity.
She folded her arms like a prosecutor and asked,
“And what sort of ‘playful behavior’ exactly left the riverbank looking like this?”
“They, um… did some digging. And… splashed water around?”
“So. Ryong.”
She said my name deliberately, each syllable dropping like a gavel.
I flinched.
Honestly, I’ve truly become So-ryong the Foolish Hound at this point.
And in that moment, I finally understood why the mothers in my past life often said: “You must encourage your husband and your children. You have to support their spirits.”
I felt that truth—profoundly.

***

After gathering venom from Geumdo and Heukjeom, I returned to the Tang Clan estate accompanied by several of the other little ones. We were headed to Grandfather’s quarters.
I brought them along because while venom from water-dwelling creatures had to be collected at the river, the others could provide theirs right there—fresh was always best.
“We’re here, Grandfather.”
“Enter.”
Hwa-eun announced our presence outside, and Grandfather’s answer came—a bit distracted.
We shared a glance and entered, finding Grandfather bent over a table, surrounded by assorted medicine jars and completely absorbed in his work.
He didn’t look up, too immersed in his task.
He had mentioned preparing tests for the new venoms, and clearly, that was what he was doing.
“Everyone, be careful not to bump into anything in Grandfather’s study, alright? That includes you, Sister Jeokwol.”
—Piii.
—Chiii.
—Kyuki.
Worried they might accidentally damage something, I cautioned them all, then quietly approached Grandfather and placed the collected samples in an open spot on his table.
—Click.
“Oh? Are these them?”
Only then did Grandfather, the Mandok Shingun, turn to us with a smile.
“Yes, Grandfather.”
I had carried Geumdo’s sleep-inducing venom in a bamboo sprayer.
Since his venom diffuses as a mist, I used the sprayer to capture and contain it.
“This is the venom of the Thousand-Year Golden Turtle. Please handle it cautiously. As I said earlier, it can cause drowsiness even upon skin contact.”
Though not deadly, Geumdo’s venom had powerful sedative properties that could seep through the skin. I repeated the warning for safety, and Grandfather nodded gravely.
“Understood. And the venom from the Black-Spotted Stingray of the White Moon?”
“Ah—this one.”
In response to his question, I drew a tightly wound leather bundle from my robe and unrolled it before him.
“It’s in here. The stingray venom is contained this way.”
“In… leather?”
He seemed surprised by the packaging.
As I opened it, I revealed what I’d brought.
“Yes. It’s secure like this.”
“…Is that the actual stinger?”
It was—Heukjeom’s entire venomous spine, laid out on the leather.
“The barbs on a stingray’s tail occasionally detach and grow back, you see.”
“Is that so?”
Much like nails or claws, stingray spines periodically shed and regenerate.
When I initially asked Heukjeom for venom, I’d also inquired if he had any recently shed spines—and surprisingly, he produced one on the spot.
“You didn’t need to pull it out yourself, you know.”
—Tzzziii.
He even lowered his tail right after to show that a new one was already beginning to form.
“Wait, they regrow that fast?”
—TZZZT!
“So if you sting someone, it breaks off and stays inside? That’s… alarming.”
When I said that, Heukjeom had spun his tail theatrically and shot the spine out like a projectile.
Stingray spines are typically close-range weapons—but as a spirit beast, he seemed able to launch them at a distance.
As I was reflecting on this, Grandfather spoke again.
“What about the others?”
“Of course.”
At his request, I called over Sandan, the orchid mantis nestled in Hwa-eun’s hair, and had her perch on my shoulder.
“Sandan, over here. We only need a tiny amount of venom.”
—Piii.
Her venom is released as a fragrant mist from the flower-like gland on her back. I carefully collected some with a cotton-tipped bamboo stick and passed it to Grandfather.
Next, I turned to Sister Jeokwol, resting on my other shoulder, and used a small spoon to gather her naturally toxic, powder-like droppings into a tiny dish.
“Here you are, Grandfather.”
“Thank you, my boy.”
“Now, the last one… Ranghyang, correct?”
I was preparing to collect venom from Ranghyang, the blind millipede spirit beast, when Grandfather suddenly raised a hand.
“Hers isn’t necessary. Cyanide-based venoms are quite common. There’s no need to make extra effort.”
Apparently, Ranghyang’s Qinghua Poison—essentially hydrogen cyanide—was already plentiful within the Tang Clan, similar to the kind found in apple seeds or cassava.
It was simply a matter of surplus.
But Ranghyang didn’t interpret it that way.
She had been nervously readying herself to contribute, and when she understood her venom wasn’t needed, her antennae drooped noticeably.
—Kyuu… Kyuki…
Her disappointment was so palpable it felt like a blow to my heart.
The poor thing already struggled with confidence—and now this?
This isn’t good…
I knelt beside her and spoke softly.
“Ranghyang, no, that’s not what he meant. He only said we have plenty in storage right now, so we don’t require more at the moment. But your venom is truly special—it can achieve things nobody would anticipate.”
—Kyuki?
She perked up, her antennae quivering with surprise.
“There are countless applications for Qinghua Poison.”
“What can you do with it?”
“What can you do with it?”
Both Grandfather and Hwa-eun, raised in a clan that reveres toxins, looked skeptical at the notion that cyanide could offer anything novel.
Yet their eyes shone with curiosity.
I was just about to elaborate when—
“Honored elder, Elder Geolhwang has arrived. He wishes to speak with Master So-ryong.”
A clan warrior appeared with a message: Elder Geolhwang was here to see me.
Has the gosoa been delivered?
“You mean me?”
“Yes, sir. He said it relates to the Blood Cult, from the intelligence provided to Yeongcheon Command.”
So it wasn’t about insect feed—it was about the information.
We promptly made our way to the reception hall, where Elder Geolhwang was already waiting, smiling warmly.
“You’ve arrived?”
“Indeed. Good to see you, Mandok Shingun.”
“Welcome, Elder.”
“Hello, Elder Geolhwang.”
“Have you been well? It seems your group has expanded once more.”
He blinked at the assortment of venomous companions following me.
“Yes, their numbers have increased a little.”
I smiled, then sat and got directly to the matter.
“You said you came about the Yeongcheon situation?”
“Yes. I wanted to personally report what we uncovered thanks to the intelligence you shared. It was significant enough to warrant a personal visit.”
Elder Punggae of the Yeongcheon Branch had promised to relay my information. Still, I hadn’t anticipated Geolhwang himself would come.
Raising an eyebrow with interest, I listened closely.
“…So we’ve handled that on our end. But there’s something unusual occurring in Gwangju.”
“In Gwangju?”
That captured my attention.
As he explained further, the peculiarity became more evident.
“Yes. We tracked some of the informants you identified. One led us to a merchant guild based in Daewolguk. They operate out of Gwangju and engage in occasional trade—but something isn’t right.”
“Do you suspect ties to the Blood Cult or the Five Venoms?”
“We couldn’t verify it directly, but one of the Five Venoms’ agents—named in your report—used their vessel to flee to Daewolguk. Their trade goods are also… questionable. Boheoldan, snake wine, snake skins, silks…”
“Highly suspicious.”
“Suspicious is an understatement. We’re almost certain.”
Boheoldan, snake-based liquors, exotic skins—typical front operations. But then came the real surprise:
“They also sell cold medicine. But when we examined it, it contained powder from an unknown animal.”
“Now that is odd.”
“Exactly.”
Cough medicine with mysterious animal powder?
I nodded, my expression serious.
“What do you intend to do?”
“Unfortunately, we can’t act openly. They’re traders from Daewolguk. Any direct action could spark an international incident. We’re seeking a more… subtle method.”
A covert approach, huh…
As I pondered this, Ranghyang, still blind, accidentally knocked into a chair—producing a loud clatter.
—Clatter.
—Kyuu… Kyuki…
Startled, she shrank back.
But it ignited an idea.
A rather… entertaining one.
“Elder Geolhwang, if you wouldn’t mind answering a few questions, I believe I may have a creative and effective solution.”
My thoughts were already spinning with possibilities.
A plan was taking shape—and it promised to be a good one.