Fabre in Sacheon’s Tang Novel - Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Thud! Thud, thud!
“Gyaaaaaaaaaaah!”
My cry of awe at the sight of the eggs in the torchlight was cut short as something the size of a fist began dropping relentlessly from above.

Whoooosh! Whoooosh!
Thud!

I swung the torch wildly, battering one of them to the ground, and saw long antennae and a curved, segmented back.
A centipede!
Squish.
I swiftly crushed the one stunned by the torch with my boot and swept the flame toward the others, driving them back into the crevice.
“Get back! You fiends! What kind of centipede grows to the size of a fist?!”
I liked most insects, but I had a powerful aversion to centipedes…
Once my heart slowed its frantic pounding, I knew I had to take the eggs and leave immediately.
Centipedes are vicious predators that feed on flesh.
The last thing I wanted was to become a meal for these fist-sized monsters.
I led with the torch and moved quickly toward the cluster of eggs.
Rustle.
The centipedes shrank back from the advancing flame.
I counted roughly thirty of them, but my focus was entirely on the eggs.
“Are the eggs still intact?”
My concern wasn’t just the centipedes, but their nature. Centipedes, like millipedes, guard their eggs until the young hatch and can survive on their own.
They even clean the eggs by licking them to prevent mold.
With the mother dead for two days, I feared the eggs, left untended, would have molded and perished.
‘If I had known these eggs were here, I would have come sooner…’
I shone the torch directly on the pile of eggs and my spirits sank.
The eggs, which I remembered as a brilliant yellow, were mostly chewed up, likely by the hatchlings.
Those at the bottom of the pile were covered in a white, cottony mold.
“Damn it. You little monsters!”
I knew the mold wasn’t their doing, but I cursed the young centipedes anyway as I used the unlit end of the torch to sift through the pile.
Squish.
‘Please, let at least one be alive.’
A slimy mucus and other fluids coated the torch, dripping off in thick, soupy strands.
Just as I was digging through the sticky mess from the top, I spotted three eggs beneath one that was bitten, their shells still a perfect, luminous yellow.
I snatched up all three with my hand.
A slimy substance made my grip slippery, but the excitement of finding giant centipede eggs made the disgust irrelevant.
“Yes! I have them!”
Out of roughly fifty eggs, only these three were undamaged and still glowed with a healthy yellow hue.
They had likely been protected in the center of the pile.
Though most were destroyed by the fist-sized centipedes, I was grateful to have saved three.
“Damn it. Three is better than nothing… But I can’t celebrate yet. I need to get these out and clean them!”
I hastily wiped the eggs on my sleeve, placed them in a jar, and crawled out of the cave.
Then I sprinted like a madman toward the pulmonary ducts.
I had to get back quickly and clean them with a disinfected cloth before they spoiled.
“Just hold on, my little centipedes. I’ll get you cleaned up soon.”
The eggs were slightly oval, but I assumed it was just a trait of a new species as I quickened my pace.

***

“What… what do I do now…?”
The next morning, I awoke to a slightly—no, a profoundly awkward situation.
Slither.
After meticulously cleaning the centipede eggs I’d found the day before to preserve their humidity, I had placed them in a jar lined with a damp cloth and set it by my pillow. By morning, all three had hatched.
I never imagined they would hatch this fast.
The reason I hadn’t expected it lies in the centipede’s unique biology.
Centipedes don’t hatch in the usual way; the eggs themselves metamorphose into larvae.
The transformation of the yellow eggs into larvae is their form of hatching.
So, all three eggs had become larvae.
Centipedes are of the suborder Geophilomorpha, meaning the young look identical to the adults, only smaller. Three adorable yellow centipedes were now attached to my body.
My predicament wasn’t just that they had hatched, but that they had escaped the jar and were coiled around me.
Until after their second molt, centipede offspring remain attached to their mother. These little ones had clearly decided I was their parent.
When I tried to pull them off, they held on tightly and refused to let go.
I attempted to pry them loose, but they just scurried onto my back, where I couldn’t reach them.
They wouldn’t need to eat until after their second molt, but just having them clinging to me was deeply uncomfortable.
It was more than a little awkward having three little centipedes, each the size of an old sausage, stuck to me.
Then, an idea came to me.
“Ah, that’s it! If I get in the water, they’ll let go on their own!”
Seizing the chance to bathe after a long time, I grabbed the jar and hurried toward the water.

***

“Little brother, are you there?”
Tang Cheolsan arrived at the pulmonary ducts and called out toward the inner chambers where Little Brother stayed.
There was no answer. The chamber was silent and still.
“Little brother?”
He called out several more times, but still, there was no response.
Tang Cheolsan stood at the entrance, lost in thought.
‘Has he gone? Or did he fall ill after all those days of constant rain?’
The reason Tang Cheolsan had come to these ducts after several days was that he had asked his father, Mandok Shingun, for a favor after reaching the port in Haenamdo the day before.
“Father, please take the uninjured warriors and depart for Sacheon first,” Tang Cheolsan had requested.
“Hmm? What do you mean by that?” his father had asked, confused by the sudden request.
When Tang Cheolsan smiled and explained, a look of understanding had dawned on his father’s face.
“If I take the Neidan now, Hwa-eun will certainly be saved. But in my wounded state, I would only slow down the injured warriors. You, father, should lead the able-bodied ones and go on ahead,” Tang Cheolsan had said.
“You want to split into two groups? Wouldn’t it be better to divide our forces once we are ashore, on the ship?” Mandok Shingun had inquired.
Though his father suggested waiting until they were on land, Tang Cheolsan had a different plan.
“Don’t we still have a matter to settle here?” Tang Cheolsan had responded.
“A matter to settle?” his father had asked, puzzled.
When Tang Cheolsan said there was something left to do, his father was perplexed. But Tang Cheolsan smiled and explained further.
“The sages say: ‘Enemies should be engraved in blood, while favors should be carved in stone.’”
Tang Cheolsan’s words shocked Mandok Shingun.
“Ah! I had completely forgotten the depth of my debt for Hwa-eun’s life! You are right. If not for you, I would have made a grave error!” Mandok Shingun exclaimed.
“Yes, father. Though Little Brother is young, he has done our family a great service. How can the Tang family let such a favor go unacknowledged?” Tang Cheolsan had added.
His point was that they could not simply ignore such a significant debt.
Having saved his daughter’s life, to offer nothing would bring shame upon the Tang family.
Mandok Shingun nodded in agreement.
“Little Brother, living alone in the mountains of Haenamdo, surviving on snakes, must be struggling. We should take him into our family as an honored guest and ensure he wants for nothing. We must honor any request he might have.”
“Yes, I agree,” Tang Cheolsan had said.
This was why he had left the injured family warriors at an inn by the port to recuperate and had come alone to see Little Brother. But now, Little Brother was gone.
Hesitating for a moment, Tang Cheolsan carefully opened the chamber door.
He was worried Little Brother might have fallen ill after the days of rain.
“Little Brother, I’m coming in,” he announced as he stepped inside.
A bizarre scene greeted him.
The walls were lined with shelves overflowing with herbs, and jars of all shapes and sizes filled the room.
‘Could Little Brother have studied medicine?’ Tang Cheolsan wondered as he looked around.
Seeing no one, Tang Cheolsan felt it would be impolite to intrude further and turned to leave.
Scritch, scritch.
Zzzzzt. Zzzzzt.
Screech!
Suddenly, strange noises emanated from within the jars and herb containers.
The sounds stopped Tang Cheolsan in his tracks.
There was something oddly familiar about them.
Drawn by the noise, Tang Cheolsan forgot his hesitation and stepped deeper into the room. With a entranced look, he opened one of the jars.
‘What is inside?’ he thought.
As the lid came off, a large black spider was revealed inside.
“A, a black widow!” Tang Cheolsan exclaimed, his eyes wide.
He quickly began checking the other jars and containers, unable to believe what he was seeing.
Each one he opened contained creatures like lizards, spiders, snakes, and crickets.
The crickets seemed to be raised as food for the other venomous beings.
In some jars, Tang Cheolsan found shed skins from lizards and spiders, indicating Little Brother had been raising them for some time.
Furthermore, some spiders were carrying eggs, and the warm area near the furnace had centipede eggs buried in the sand.
The sight was astounding.
Tang Cheolsan trembled with awe.
Even the Tang family, masters of poisons, had never conceived of breeding venomous creatures in this manner, let alone raising their young.
This was not like the Tang methods of simply extracting venom; Little Brother was raising these creatures to multiply and thrive.
‘I thought a simple twist of fate had saved my daughter, but is Little Brother himself the real twist of fate?’
After carefully returning the jars to their places, Tang Cheolsan stepped outside to collect his thoughts.
He was deeply shaken. If Little Brother truly possessed this knowledge, his skills could elevate the Tang family’s poison arts to an entirely new level.
As Tang Cheolsan sat outside, preparing questions for Little Brother’s return, he suddenly heard a voice.
“Ah!? Elder?”
Little Brother entered, his hair wet as if from a bath, and offered a cheerful greeting.
“Oh! Little Brother!” Tang Cheolsan exclaimed, quickly standing up in relief.
But then a sudden, overwhelming sense of danger washed over him.
Crash!
A ferocious force shot toward Tang Cheolsan. He raised a single hand to block it, but the impact was tremendous, throwing him back and slamming him into the stone steps outside the chamber.
“Cough! Cough! Cough!” Blood gushed from his mouth as he lay there.
He was seriously injured.
‘A master on the level of my father?’
Tang Cheolsan had blocked with only one hand instead of two, and the power was overwhelming.
“Elder! Cough!” Little Brother cried out, and Tang Cheolsan heard the faint, chilling voice of an old man who now gripped Little Brother’s neck.
“I heard the Tang family had come to Haenamdo. When I saw your son, Mandok Shingun’s son, alone and wounded, I had to come. I have never forgotten your face, or your father’s, for ten years! Today, I will send your head as a gift to Mandok Shingun! Hahaha!”
The man’s face was hideously scarred, and a blood-red hand reached out.
Tang Cheolsan’s mind raced to someone he barely recalled, but that man was supposed to be dead.
Struggling to rise, Tang Cheolsan asked, “Cough! Who are you, elder, to attack Little Brother and me?”
The old man laughed maniacally, pointing at his own scarred face.
“Hahaha. Can you not tell from this face and the bloody hand? I am the one your father, Mandok Shingun, made into this. I am the Blood-Handed Rakshasa, Tak Wonyang!”
It was indeed Tak Wonyang, the notorious demon who had terrorized Guizhou and Guangxi over a decade ago. He had been defeated by Tang Cheolsan’s father, Mandok Shingun, and had fallen from a cliff. Clearly, he had survived and been hiding in Haenamdo.
Though he had once been on par with Tang Cheolsan’s father, the power radiating from Tak Wonyang now was utterly terrifying.
Realizing he might not live through this, Tang Cheolsan spoke quickly, “Please, release Little Brother! He is not a martial artist and has no part in our family’s affairs. If you seek revenge, take me.”
His intent was to save Little Brother, but Tak Wonyang only sneered.
“I will slaughter everyone who has so much as brushed against my family’s robes! In Buddhism, they say even a brushed sleeve creates a karmic bond for three thousand lifetimes! Hahaha!”
‘This demon will never let him go!’
Tang Cheolsan despaired as Tak Wonyang slowly tightened his grip on Little Brother’s neck.
“Gah! P-please… Save me…”
Screech!
Suddenly, a strange sound came from Little Brother’s neck and sleeves, and yellow tendrils shot out, sinking into Tak Wonyang’s neck and wrists.
“Cough!”
Tak Wonyang’s skin turned black instantly. He shrieked in disbelief, then slowly crumbled to the ground.
And Little Brother, with an extremely awkward expression, asked, “Uh… Was he a bad man? I think he’s dead?”
In Tang Cheolsan’s mind, the word *guest* slowly began to transform into *family*.