Fabre in Sacheon’s Tang Novel - Chapter 481

Chapter 481
“We have matters to attend to.”
“This can wait for another time.”
When I proposed that we all meet for a morning meal and tea in two days, Brother Kwon Ryong and Brother Geom Ryong quickly got to their feet and claimed they were occupied.
That was followed by some rather unconvincing throat-clearing.
“Ahem!”
“Ah-hemm!”
Their displeasure was still plain to see.
Wait, were they actually offended? I had assumed it was all in good fun.
Truth be told, nearly everyone aboard our vessel is part of a pair.
I am with Hwa-eun. Brother Gyu-seong is married. Ji-ryong is with Eunbong. Chang-ryong is with Geombong.
We’re all at that stage in life where romantic interests naturally develop. The only ones still unattached were Sister Seol and Gungbong among the women, and Brothers Geom Ryong and Kwon Ryong among the men.
One might ask—why not simply match the remaining singles together?
But Gungbong is never included in these speculations.
As for Sister Seol, perhaps due to her being slightly older, or because she is the daughter of the Beast Palace Lord, the two brothers never displayed any romantic inclination toward her.
And into this situation, I not only wed one of the Three Blossoms of the Martial World… but am now also journeying with a golden-haired woman from the Western Regions?
Did they simply… give up entirely?
As the two of them strode away, Ji-ryong, who was seated opposite me, tilted his head in inquiry:
“Young warrior, what is the matter with those two? Have you had a disagreement? They were looking your way as if something was amiss.”
“No, nothing of the sort. I would never quarrel with my brothers.”
“Then what is it?”
“Well, you see…”
I struggled to find a response—until Brother Gyu-seong interjected.
“Explain the situation, So-ryong. Why are they behaving this way? Not that I believe ✪ Nоvеlіgһt ✪ (Official version) you are at fault—it must be their own issue.”
With Gun Hye-rin also present, I couldn’t answer freely, so I shot a glance at Sister Seol that plainly said: You caused this—now you deal with it.
Adopting an air of nonchalance, Sister Seol stated,
“Oh, those two expressed their fondness for Miss Gun and requested that So-ryong assist them in winning her favor.”
“…What?”
Hearing this, Miss Gun—who had been lifting her teacup—halted and turned to Sister Seol with an expression of complete incredulity.
*Those fools… dared to entertain thoughts of me?*
That was what her face communicated.
From my conversations with Grandpa and with Miss Gun herself, I knew the Heavenly Demon Cult is a domain where power is paramount.
Without strength, one is not even acknowledged as a man.
So the notion that two martial artists significantly weaker than her would show interest… must have seemed ridiculous to her.
It reminded me of my past life, when women would jokingly remark, “There goes your future husband,” about a man they disliked.
That was likely her sentiment in this moment.
But then Sister Seol continued—and Miss Gun’s look of astonishment swiftly transformed into one of dread.
“So I informed them of the understanding between So-ryong and Miss Gun. That is the reason for their behavior.”
“The understanding between So-ryong and Miss Gun?”
“Why else would Hwa-eun vacate her own quarters and arrange for her to use the East Room at the Tang estate?”
“…?”
Brother Gyu-seong blinked, uncomprehending, until his wife leaned close and murmured something into his ear.
A moment later, he voiced his sudden understanding, just as Ji-ryong grinned and added:
“I see…”
“Heh. This Ji-ryong was already aware of the connection between Miss Gun and young warrior So-ryong.”
『Hold on—wasn’t that entire affair a mix-up!? Why are you informing people about it—!?』
“Well, unless Miss Gun were the leader of a demonic cult or the like, there would be no cause to keep her in such proximity, correct? Hahaha.”
“!”
Miss Gun attempted to protest through our mental connection, but Ji-ryong’s remark rendered her silent.
And for good reason—he had said it in jest, but to our ears, it sounded like a verdict.
Had he truly deduced the truth!?
All of us—myself, Hwa-eun, Sister Seol, and Miss Gun—stiffened, our faces momentarily losing color before we hastily composed ourselves.
Then it dawned on us: Ji-ryong is renowned as the most intelligent man in the Central Plains.
If we made even the slightest error, he would detect it instantly.
“C-certainly, that is Ji-ryong for you…”
“You are truly perceptive, young warrior. Hahaha.”
“Ahaha. I suppose I am rather sharp. Sharp old So-ryong, hahahaha.”
Neither Miss Gun nor I could muster a rebuttal.
In truth, no other justification would have been plausible enough to mislead Ji-ryong.
And realizing that even with this fabricated story, he had already guessed the reality, it was evident that no flimsy excuse would suffice.
Why was she permitted to stay in the East Room—a space traditionally reserved for newlyweds and immediate family?
Why had Hwa-eun relinquished the cabin adjacent to mine for her use?
Ji-ryong had likely weighed two scenarios and accepted Sister Seol’s account because the alternative was too far-fetched.
“Miss Gun, I am essentially an elder brother to So-ryong, so you may address me as Elder Brother Peng. Haha. They say a true hero is entitled to three wives and four concubines—it seems our So-ryong is finally walking the path of a hero.”
“…V-very well. I suppose that is acceptable.”
Miss Gun responded through gritted teeth, her hands shaking slightly.
At that instant, Hwa-eun, Sister Seol, and I all exclaimed internally in unison:
『We must exercise greater caution from now on!
“He is Ji-ryong, the first son of the Zhuge family and one of the Three Peaks of the Five Dragons. His fame is well-deserved! We have to be wary!”
“Y-yes, cautious!”
“It appears the three of us will need to display more affection in public.”
“Understood.”
“That is undoubtedly the wisest course.”』
It seemed we would have to play our roles for some time.
***
The brothers’ ill humor concluded precisely three days later.
Other companions had reproached them for their pettiness, and after learning that I had rescued Miss Gun from an assault by demonic cultivators, their envy shifted toward a form of resigned acceptance.
Provided it was not based on mere appearance or trivial matters—but rather on a life-saving deed—they could comprehend it.
Following a peculiar old Murim code, a man repays such a debt with his life, while a woman pledges her loyalty to her savior.
“So chivalry and righteousness yet endure in Murim.”
“Chivalry and righteousness?”
“Your rescue of Miss Gun—that is chivalry. Miss Gun remaining at your side to discharge her obligation—that is righteousness.”
“I-I understand.”
“Sigh, perhaps we should also seek out a fair maiden to rescue…”
Just as we were jesting about whether they would bother saving someone who wasn’t beautiful, Do Sagong hurried in with a worried expression.
“…In such instances, you extend chivalry, but inwardly you only embrace righteousness.”
“Precisely.”
“Are you two genuinely going to persist with this foolishness in front of So-ryong?”
“…Pardon me, So-ryong?”
“Ah, Do Sagong. What brings you here?”
“Might I have a word with you in private?”
“Certainly.”
As Geumdo was navigating calmly, the ship required no immediate attention. Wondering what this was about, I accompanied him into the cabin.
Do Sagong indicated a map charting the Yangtze River’s path and started to explain.
“There is a detail we entirely failed to consider.”
“So-ryong, there is an oversight we made.”
“What is it?”
“The ship cannot journey all the way to the entrance of the Beast Palace, correct?”
“That is true.”
Naturally.
The waterway we traveled was a branch of the Yangtze.
While the Yangtze itself begins in Qinghai Province, it merely skirts the northeastern border of Yunnan. Our plan was to go ashore there and proceed on foot to the southwestern corner where the Beast Palace stands.
That was our customary mode of travel.
This time, however, we also needed to visit Dali—Yunnan’s largest city—to address the counterfeit medicine trade, but our point of disembarkation was unchanged.
I nodded, and Do Sagong continued his explanation.
“Ordinarily, you would disembark and continue on foot while we remained to protect the ship. But on this occasion, we are carrying a substantial amount of goods, are we not?”
“Goods? Ah!”
Yes—just as he said, we had numerous items to transport.
Reflecting on it, we had not fully deliberated on how to convey everything.
Both the Tang Clan and I had simply taken for granted that we would place all the cargo on Geumdo’s shell.
“This presents a difficulty, does it not? We cannot employ wagons in this region, can we?”
“No, we cannot.”
Typically, we would engage or purchase wagons for transport.
But unlike Sichuan, Guizhou, or Guangxi, where main roads are properly upheld, this was Yunnan.
The routes here were notoriously poor.
From what we had learned, the subtropical environment encourages vines to overgrow pathways rapidly, so unless a route is regularly used, it disappears in short order.
Thus, in Yunnan, wagons were generally impractical—one had to load burdens onto people or pack animals directly.
“If the Beast Palace were nearer, we might employ an elephant. But the distance is far too great.”
If it were close, elephants could serve—but that was not feasible here.
We would need to engage scores of bearers or acquire water buffalo, the typical beasts of burden in these parts.
It was apparent that a considerable sum would be spent solely on delivering our presents.
Yet the true challenge was not financial.
We possessed ample funds—so expenditure was not the concern. The real predicament was that introducing a host of animals or strangers to carry the load might alarm the children, and we would once again have to divide our party.
One group to manage the freight, and another to shepherd the children.
Numerous logistical details demanded attention.
“I will retrieve Ji-ryong and my sister first. Let us determine if they possess a superior scheme.”
“Understood.”
I went to fetch Ji-ryong and my sister, the individuals most acquainted with the locality, and predictably, upon their arrival, they proposed a sound strategy.
“Let us disembark at this location and engage laborers or animals to convey us to the Lancang River. From there, we charter a vessel and proceed by water.”
“Yes, that is viable. Following the Lancang leads directly to the front of the Beast Palace.”
Adjacent to the Jinsha River, a tributary of the Yangtze, runs the Lancang River—more widely known in the Central Plains as the Mekong. At certain stretches, the gap between them is a mere 25 li.
Thus, the strategy was to approach the confluence as closely as possible aboard Geumdo, then secure assistance to transfer the cargo to the Lancang, where we would rent a boat and continue to the Beast Palace.
It was an admirable plan. But it meant we would likely have to leave Cheongwol, Geumdo, and Heukjeom behind once more.
“Are we to abandon Cheongwol, Heukjeom, and Geumdo again?”
I felt a pang of guilt.
It invariably seemed that Cheongwol, Geumdo, and Heukjeom were left out.
The children would likely affirm it was acceptable, but I could not suppress my remorse. When we finally made landfall, I tentatively broached the subject.
“Cheongwol, I apologize. We must journey to the other river, but I fear Geumdo cannot advance farther. So… it appears you and Heukjeom will have to remain here with him again.”
We had arrived at the river’s edge.
The sun had descended and the moon was ascending.
Gazing out at the boundless jungle, Cheongwol replied with a tinge of sorrow.
—Grrr. 『Is that so? It is of no consequence. This is not unfamiliar to us.』
Cheongwol answered mournfully, and the visage of Heukjeom on his flank also seemed despondent.
—Bubrrr.
Then Geumdo emitted a sound.
Startled by the noise, Cheongwol inquired in a surprised tone,
—Grr!? 『What!? You can journey!?』
“You are going?”
Going? What did he mean?
I distinctly heard Cheongwol’s question, but its meaning eluded me. I blinked in bewilderment—
—Bubrrr.
—Chii!?
Geumdo communicated something—then consumed Heukjeom in one gulp.
“Geumdo!”
I cried out, my eyes wide with shock at the abrupt action.
The vessel groaned and creaked—and abruptly, it started to ascend.
Then it thrust forward with a powerful heave.
—Thump. Thump. Thump-thump.
That rhythmic pounding—it could only be Geumdo. He had emerged from the water and was now advancing on land.
“What in heaven’s name!?”
“W-what is occurring!? So-ryong!?”
I swiftly summoned Cho and ascended into the air.
And there he was.
Geumdo, bearing the entire ship on his back, progressing toward the heading I had indicated earlier. The passengers on the ship were in turmoil.
“W-what is this!?”
“H-he can traverse land as well!?”
“W-what should we do, Do Sagong!?”
“Hold fast!”
“Hold fast?”
“Hold on tightly!”
Geumdo was a turtle.
And even sea turtles venture onto land to bask. If he were a giant softshell turtle, he could likely manage on land for a period.
Evidently, Geumdo possessed some of that trait—he could move about on land without difficulty.
This clever creature…! What a maneuver! Gyaaah!
I had scant opportunity to appreciate his ingenuity.
Given the nighttime and our deep jungle location, I was less concerned about observers. Still, I flew to Geumdo’s head to advise him.
“Geumdo. We must proceed with utmost quietness, agreed?”
—Bubrrr.
He issued a resonant reply.
And then—a mist began to emanate from Geumdo.
But this was considerably denser and more extensive than previously.
Perhaps because his wounds were healed and he was in improved condition, the reach and concentration of the slumber-inducing haze seemed greatly enhanced now.
From my aerial vantage, looking downward, it resembled sailing on a cloud ocean beneath a full moon.
A phantasmagorical vista, akin to a legend brought to life.
Yet, as I beheld that splendid sight, a notion abruptly occurred to me.
Geumdo… When I urged “move quietly,” you opted to simply render everyone unconscious? If no one is awake to hear, that qualifies as quiet, I suppose?
It seems this fellow—whom I believed to be the dutiful sort—may in fact be a premier mischief-making spirit beast.
His reasoning was far from conventional.