Fabre in Sacheon’s Tang Novel - Chapter 445

Chapter 445
As dusk settled on the following day, the shape of our moored vessel finally became visible in the distance. Sister Seol let out a joyful cry.

“So-ryong! Look, the boat! We’re finally back. Who knew I could ever be this thrilled to see a ship? These days, that boat truly feels like our home, doesn’t it?”

The rest of our party murmured in agreement.

“It’s true. We’ve passed most of this year aboard that ship—by now, it’s more familiar to us than any house.”
“I never imagined I could feel so at ease on a boat, yet here I am.”
“There’s a certain comfort to life on the water, isn’t there?”

Our situation was undoubtedly better than when we had forgotten our tents and slept exposed to the dew, but living in tents was still far from pleasant.

Our shelters were crafted from Yo-hwa’s silk. We would set them up, line the ground with additional layers of silk, and then add a deep padding of reeds or dried grass—but even with these preparations, the mornings were invariably chilly and damp.

However much we tried to shield ourselves from the wetness of the earth, the moisture from our own breathing would leave the interior feeling clammy by sunrise. And since we had just come across the Himalayas, even Yo-hwa’s well-insulating silk could not completely block out the deep cold.

We attempted to use stones heated by the fire and wrapped in Yo-hwa’s silk to keep warm through the night, but they too lost their heat by morning. Rising from bed was a truly unpleasant experience.

The majority of our companions had not yet cultivated the ability to endure extreme temperatures, so the cold was a shared hardship for all. It was no surprise they were so eager to return to the boat—onboard, at least, we could have a brazier for warmth.

‘Then… why don’t I share their happiness?’

Everyone was nearly sprinting toward the boat in their excitement to return. But I found I could not muster the same feeling.

It was because of the Golden-Furred Wasp Kings that had appeared the previous day.

I had asked Cheongwol about it, and she thought it unlikely that Ranghu had dispatched them. Yet those wasps had clearly come to me with what felt like a warning—that something unfavorable was approaching.

‘Please don’t let Ranghu be in another one of her moods…’

Recalling her past behavior, I recognized that Ranghu consistently had a poor reaction to unmarried women.

If I brought Hwanji and Hwana onto the boat, she was likely to cause another scene.

The one faint hope was that perhaps there was only one unmarried female?

‘Wait, no… there are two. Wonderful.’

I tried to be optimistic, but the more I considered it, the worse the situation seemed.

There were two unmarried females: both Hwanji and Hwana.

-Buuuuuuuuuuu…

As we drew closer to the boat, the deep note of a ram’s horn echoed through the valley.

A crew member must have seen us and was sounding the horn to alert those on the vessel.

“So-ryong-nim has returned!”

Following that shout, the clear call of the horn sounded once more. Then came the familiar humming of wings—more Golden-Furred Wasp Kings.

-Buuuung.

They flew from the boat and organized themselves into two neat lines, creating a path between the ship and our group.

‘What… in the world is this?’

Where did they learn to do this? They were positioned flawlessly on either side like an honor guard providing a formal welcome.

Everyone in our party stopped and stared in amazement.

“Hahaha… what on earth…”
“Are they forming a reception line for us?”
“Incredible. They are becoming more intelligent by the day.”

The group halted, impressed by the display from the insects, and two of the wasps flew to me, softly urging me to take the lead.

Then, from a distance, a distinctly different wingbeat pattern became audible.

-Buuung. Buung buung.

A bee’s typical buzz comes from its wings beating rapidly—around 190 times per second, producing a sound of roughly 190Hz.

That noise is used for many things: communication, gathering pollen, and even shaking pollen free from flowers by vibration. They use even higher frequencies—around 280Hz—for conversation. But this sound… was unusually deep and slow.

It was as if she was intentionally reducing the speed of her wingbeats.

What did this mean?

To describe it… it was like a bee attempting to move with a delicate grace.

Not the typical, direct flight of a bee, but something lighter and more floating—similar to Sister Jeokwol’s refined butterfly drift.

That was how Ranghu came to me.

She flew gently into my embrace and held on tightly.

“Oh—hello there, Ranghu! It’s good to see you. You’ve been well, I hope?”

-Buuung.

She settled her head against my shoulder and gave me a series of gentle, affectionate pats, as if she had missed me.

Hwanji and Hwana were standing further back, but Ranghu didn’t appear to notice them at all.

‘Wait… is that it? Were the workers just being needlessly alarmed?’

Perhaps I had been anxious over nothing.

The workers had frightened me without cause. I felt a wave of relief.

***

-Buuung.

That night, Hwa-eun was roused from sleep by a low hum and a soft breeze against her face.

“Hnng?”

Once her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she saw it—a Golden-Furred Wasp King hovering in a place it definitely did not belong, making a small, beckoning motion for her to follow.

“You wish for me to follow you?”

Before meeting So-ryong, she might not have understood the gesture. But now, she was accustomed to such occurrences.

When she spoke, the wasp dipped its head in a nod, then turned and scurried quickly toward the deck, taking care not to disturb the others.

Hwa-eun rubbed the sleep from her eyes, pulled on a robe, and followed.

Reaching the deck, she was taken aback to find not just that single wasp—but a number of others already assembled there.

Cheongwol, Yo-hwa, Jeokwol, and Cheong-yu Sojeo were all collected on the deck.

On the other side of the railing, Hwanji and Hwana were looking on from outside.

“What… is the meaning of this?”

Ranghu, who was sitting with a dignified air upon a chair, noticed Hwa-eun and flew over to her.

-Buuung.

Still keeping her buzzing subdued to avoid waking anyone, Ranghu gently led Hwa-eun toward the chair and indicated that she should sit.

“You want me to sit here?”

-Buuuung.

Hwa-eun sat down, gazing around at the others with a expression that plainly asked, what is happening in the middle of the night?

But the looks she got from Cheongwol, Yo-hwa, Jeokwol, and Cheong-yu Sojeo all said the same thing:

We are just as confused as you are.

It seemed everyone had been summoned here without warning.

Just to be certain, Hwa-eun sent a mental message to Cheong-yu Sojeo.

『What is this about?』

Cheong-yu merely tilted her head and gave a slight shake—she was also unaware.

Then Ranghu took flight, went beyond the boat, and came back shortly with three small stones she had gathered from near the river.

Everyone watched her movements, blinking in confusion, unsure of her intentions.

Back on the deck, Ranghu flew directly to Hwanji and Hwana.

-Buuuung.

She used her left front leg to point at each pebble in turn, right before their eyes.

She seemed to be instructing them to watch very carefully.

When the two nodded, though still without understanding, she flew to Hwa-eun and set one pebble down by her feet.

She then picked up a second stone, gestured toward it as if to say *pay attention*, and let it fall in front of the clustered group—Cheong-yu, Jeokwol, Yo-hwa, and Cheongwol.

-Buuung. Buuung.

Her meaning remained unclear, but Hwa-eun began to notice a deliberate spacing in where everyone was positioned.

She was alone in the chair, while the other women were grouped together in one spot.

Meanwhile, Hwanji and Hwana were completely outside the boat.

It felt… intentional. Carefully arranged.

‘Wait… is she attempting to establish a ranking?’

Then Ranghu pointed toward the gaps between the pebbles, as if highlighting the distances, and flew back to Hwanji and Hwana.

She held the final pebble up before their eyes… and then suddenly threw it far out into the darkness.

-Plunk.

Hwanji and Hwana looked utterly perplexed.

-Shaa!?
-Shhhhh!

As they stammered in confusion, Hwa-eun started to understand.

Was Ranghu trying to communicate that Hwa-eun was at the top, the others were below her, and you two are at the very bottom of the order?

A caution, maybe, not to presume above their station?

‘Surely not. She couldn’t possibly… could she?’

Hwa-eun dismissed the thought from her head.

She had been around spirit beasts for too long—she was beginning to interpret things too deeply.

***

The next morning, after a quick breakfast, everyone assembled in the large cabin.

The objective: not grave-robbing—but the excavation of Hwamu-jin’s hidden chamber.

Yeoncheon-senior had promised to lead us once we got to the river. So everyone had arrived one by one, without needing a formal summons.

“Senior, we are at the river. How do we locate Hwamu-jin’s burial chamber from this point?”

I asked the question for everyone. Their faces were all bright with expectation.

Yeoncheon gave a nod and asked in reply:

[Ah, yes. Benefactor, have you ever heard of a place called Hanga?]
“Hanga?”
[Indeed. In the past, it was where the Qiang barbarians resided…]

The unfamiliar name made me tilt my head in puzzlement, but Hwa-eun and Ji-ryong responded simultaneously:

“I don’t know Hanga, but the Qiang people are an ethnic group in Sichuan.”
“Can you describe any landmarks near it, senior? Mountains or rivers? Names of places can change over time, but the geography usually remains.”

Since this was a location from three centuries ago, its name could have been altered by changes in governance. After thinking for a moment, Yeoncheon provided two points of reference:

[It is where the Yalong River bends around Mount Gongga.]
‘Mount Gongga? What an unusual name…?’

The name seemed strange to me, but Hwa-eun was quick to respond.

“If it is where the Yalong River meets Mount Gongga… which direction from that spot, senior?”
[Toward the setting sun.]
“Then it is most likely called Jiulong today!”

Sichuan is under the influence of the Tang Clan.

Hwa-eun was able to identify the place immediately from just a rough description.

Yeoncheon nodded again.
[Jiulong, yes. The site of his tomb is a stone mountain—resembling nine dragons twisted together.]
“Then the Hanga of 300 years ago is almost surely today’s Jiulong.”

It appeared Hwamu-jin’s secret chamber was not too far from our current position.

We simply needed to sail down the Jinsha River and then head east to reach the Yalong.

The boat made good speed. Three days later, exactly as Yeoncheon had said, we came upon a rocky mountain whose ridges spiraled like nine great dragons.

Pine trees grew stubbornly from the stone, and mist hung about the summits.

It had the unmistakable atmosphere of the Central Plains martial world.

[That is the mountain, Benefactor.]
“Ah. So that is where Hwamu-jin’s secret chamber is concealed.”
“So that’s it?”
[He had it cut into the rock, partway up the cliff face.]

The stone precipices were so sheer that an ordinary person would not even consider climbing them.

“How did he imagine anyone would ever reach it? You would have to be mad to attempt it.”

Naturally, with Yo-hwa, Cho, and Yeondu among us, we could find a way—but how were ordinary seekers of knowledge supposed to get up there to learn his arts?

One had to question whether he actually intended for his martial arts to be passed on.

But when I voiced this, Yeoncheon dismissed the worry.

[We will not be climbing it. We will go in from the other side. Under normal circumstances, one must navigate nine gates to get there—but we will proceed directly to the chamber where Hwamu-jin died.]
“Wonderful! Just what I’d expect from you, Senior!”

‘So even spirit-beast seniors have their own shortcuts, do they?’

Skipping the challenges and going straight to the reward? That is what connections can do.

It was yet another reminder that relationships through family, society, and mentorship can unlock any door.

But the next morning, when we arrived at the mountain’s rear—where Yeoncheon said the secret chamber’s exit was located—he slipped into a small cave hidden behind some rocks.

He returned a short time later with a concerned look.

[The internal entrance has caved in.]
“…What?”
[It seems we will have to face the nine gates after all.]

So much for the privileged access.