Fabre in Sacheon’s Tang

Two days of sailing along the Zhongjiang River next to Sichuan’s Chengdu, and suddenly, the river widened dramatically, revealing an enormous expanse of water. As our boat entered the broader waters, it began to sway from side to side.

— Splash!

Cold water sprayed against the boat’s sides.

“The current is strong! Everyone, be careful!”

“Whoa! So-ryong, be careful!” called Gu Pae, his voice carrying over the creaking of the ship.

“Yes, Deputy Gu,” I replied, steadying myself. While everyone clung to the boat’s railings with tense expressions, my sister stood beside me, calmly pointing at the widened river with a serene smile.

As the waves lifted the boat high, it steadied, and her cheerful voice broke the tension.

“So-ryong, this is the Yangtze River, the longest river in the Central Plains.”

‘So, this is the Yangtze, one of the world’s longest rivers and the lifeblood of the Central Plains.’

I was struck by the realization that I was now sailing the Yangtze River, a place I had always wanted to visit in my previous life. Not for any profound reason, but because this was the home of the Yangtze River dolphin, a species declared extinct in my previous life.

There was also the adorable ”river pig,” known as the finless porpoise. Even as someone more interested in insects and reptiles, dolphins held a universal charm, didn’t they? Sailing along this river in person filled me with a sense of awe.

“Wow, the river is so wide,” I remarked.

“Yes, and if we follow this river, we’ll reach Wuchang,” my sister explained.

Our destination was Anhui, where the Namgung family resided. However, before heading there, we needed to stop at the Murim Alliance in Wuchang. My master had tasked us with delivering additional venom from the Hobanyu snake to the military.

“We’re supposed to disembark at Anqing after stopping briefly in Wuchang, correct?”

“That’s right, So-ryong.”

I had expected to travel by carriage or by using light footwork, but instead, our journey was by boat. While not as fast as running, the boat’s speed increased significantly as we entered the main course of the Yangtze River. It glided swiftly along the current, cutting through the vast waters with ease.

“At this speed, we’ll get there much sooner than expected,” I said, marveling at the sudden acceleration.

My sister smiled, amused by my enthusiasm. “Even so, it’ll still take us about half a month to reach our destination.”

“Ah, I see.”

The sheer size of the Central Plains never failed to impress. As I gazed out at the river alongside my sister, I decided to voice a concern that had been weighing on my mind.

‘I can’t help but feel uneasy about this…’

We had rushed out with my master’s permission, but as the boat carried us further, I began to wonder: would the Namgung family truly hand over the Ice Jade so easily? If it was as valuable as my sister had said, it seemed unlikely they would part with it without a significant reason.

“By the way, Lady Hwa-eun,” I began cautiously, “thinking about it on the boat, if the Ice Jade is really that rare, do you think the Namgung family will just hand it over? I can’t help but worry…”

“Just trust me, okay? Do you doubt me?” she asked with mock indignation.

“N-No, of course not.”

While I answered that I trusted her, the truth was, I had my doubts. And I had good reason for them.

Before we boarded the boat, my sister had confidently claimed she would handle the negotiations. However, once we were underway, she made an offhand comment that gave me pause.

As if to ease my concerns, she pointed at my chest and casually reassured me. “We have that, so they’ll definitely agree. From what I’ve heard, the Ice Jade isn’t of much use to her. What we’re offering will definitely be better. After all, the Ice Jade can’t be eaten, but that can, right?”

“Well, that’s true, but… are you sure about this?”

As I absentmindedly touched the item tucked into my chest, my sister smiled and nodded.

“Of course. Don’t worry so much, So-ryong. Something insignificant to one person can be incredibly valuable to another. And besides, it doesn’t seem insignificant at all.”

“This… is significant?” I asked, still doubtful.

“Yes.”

‘Surely this won’t cause any problems… right?’

I fidgeted with the object in my chest, still uneasy, when another question occurred to me.

“By the way, Lady Hwa-eun, when you mentioned we needed something with ‘cold Yin energy,’ what exactly does that mean? It sounds like some kind of cold aura, but I’m not entirely sure. Grandfather explained Yin and Yang to me once, but his explanation was hard to follow…”

As a caretaker, understanding what your charges needed was essential. Feeding them something unknown was unacceptable, especially for someone like me. Not knowing about their diet would make me an unfit caretaker.

“Good question. It’s something that can help with martial arts cultivation, so listen carefully and remember this,” she began.

“Yes, Lady Hwa-eun.”

“Yin energy refers to a type of Qi that causes Yin transformation, the opposite of Yang energy. It’s the energy in nature that sinks and gathers, often suppressing living activity. Dark, cold, and oppressive feelings are all examples of Yin energy. Although I specifically said ‘cold Yin energy,’ it’s really just a type of Yin energy.”

“So, does that mean Yin energy is bad?” I asked, trying to understand. The idea of something suppressing life seemed inherently negative.

My sister shook her head. “Not at all. Yin energy’s counterpart, Yang energy, rises and disperses, dominating natural cycles and promoting life. But too much Yang energy can be harmful—it accelerates aging and depletes vitality quickly. As for Bing and Seol, their bodies are suited to absorbing Yin energy, which allows them to grow. That’s why they need it.”

‘Ah, like recharging a battery?’

Her explanation, while still complex, was much clearer than Grandfather’s had been.

“Does that clear up your confusion?” she asked, smiling.

“Yes, though I do have one more question. I’ve always heard that Yin and Yang are supposed to balance, like men and women forming a pair. If Bing and Seol are entirely Yin, how does that balance work?”

Her face instantly turned red, and she stammered, “W-Well… I guess we’ll just have to wait and see how they balance their Yin and Yang in the future…”

“What?” I blinked, confused.

‘Wait, Yin and Yang balance? Does she mean… No way, is she thinking that?’

The more I thought about it, the more I was convinced. My sister’s flustered expression betrayed her, and it seemed her mind had wandered somewhere indecent.

Before I could figure out how to handle this awkward situation, she suddenly turned the tables.

“So-So-ryong, you ask the most embarrassing things without hesitation!”

“Me?” I gaped at her in disbelief. She was the one whose thoughts had clearly gone astray, yet now I was being accused of improper behavior.

Desperate to change the subject, she pointed at the river and exclaimed, “L-Let’s talk about something else. Look, So-ryong! Over there! It’s a Baiji!”

“A Baiji?”

Following her finger, I spotted something leaping out of the water. A closer look revealed it was a dolphin.

“Wait, is that—?”

It was the Yangtze River dolphin, something I had always wanted to see. In my previous life, they had gone extinct, but here, they still thrived.

The dolphins swam closer to the boat, leaping gracefully and spraying water as they jumped. For a moment, the awkwardness was forgotten, replaced by awe at the rare sight before us.

***

On an early night in the Huangshan mountains, the wind carried fallen petals from blossoms that had bloomed and withered.

— Whoosh.

The wind swept around the hill, gathering the petals into the air before spiraling upward.

Just as the petals seemed ready to rise higher into the night sky, a flash of moonlit steel streaked through the air.

— Shing!

A single strike of a sword traced a long arc under the moonlight. The petals, carried aloft by the breeze, instantly fell back to the ground, their brief journey cut short.

The strike dissipated the wind, scattering the petals back to the earth. Watching the petals settle, the woman who had swung the sword let out a sigh.

“Haa… Still not enough…”

The technique she had just performed was the third form of the Imperial Sword Style: Imperial Suppression Strike.

The essence of the technique lay in the combination of the first and second forms, which infused the blade with internal energy, enhancing its weight and power. By the third form, that accumulated energy was unleashed in a crushing wave meant to overwhelm the opponent.

Yet, the woman sighed because her execution of the third form was far from perfect. If she had done it correctly, the petals would have been reduced to powder under the force of her sword. Instead, they merely bled their color and maintained their form.

Despite her age, not yet in her twenties, the woman had already mastered the Boundless Azure Sky Sword Technique of the Namgung family and had begun to delve into the Imperial Sword Style. She could even wield its third form. Yet her expression was far from satisfied.

To an outsider, her discontent might seem excessive, even obsessive. But her reason for training late at night, far from the family’s estate, on the foothills of Huangshan, was deeply personal.

“Eonni, please, let’s go back. If we stay out much longer, we’ll be caught for sure. If Father catches us again, I’ll get scolded for not stopping you. Swordsmanship is important, but you’re the eldest daughter of the Namgung family. You should take better care of yourself.”

The one pleading was her younger sister, holding a lantern and sitting atop a rock. The eldest daughter of the Namgung family, Namgung Seol, also known as the Floral Monarch Peony, nodded with a faintly apologetic expression.

“Alright, I understand, Eun-ah.”

Namgung Seol had come to this remote hill at night to practice her swordsmanship because training within the family estate had been forbidden. More precisely, sword training itself was forbidden. As such, she had to sneak out with her sister to practice in secret.

“Eonni, I’m so worried I could die from the stress. Can’t you stop until Uncle brings back the miraculous medicine? If you collapse again, I’ll get all the blame for not stopping you.”

Eun-ah’s tone was exasperated, and Namgung Seol could only offer a bittersweet smile in response. The reason for her clandestine training and her sister’s anxious gaze was the same—her illness.

Keimak Syndrome.

That was the name of the condition that afflicted her.

At first, the family thought it was a blessing, not an illness. Her veins and meridians were exceptionally open, allowing her to build internal energy quickly and circulate Qi without obstruction. Her body seemed to transform, as if reborn.

A physique seemingly born for martial arts, known as Heavenly Martial Constitution.

Everyone, including Namgung Seol herself, believed this at first. But by the time she turned fifteen, they realized it was not a blessing.

Her rapid physical development had raised suspicions, prompting the family to summon a renowned physician. After examining her pulse, the physician’s expression grew grim.

“The pathways in her body are overly open. It’s the opposite of blocked meridians—perhaps we should call it Keimak, meaning overextended veins. Her innate Qi, which should remain dormant, is being excessively consumed to sustain her perfect physical state.

“The child’s beauty is the result of this innate Qi maintaining her body’s perfection. If this continues, she will have a shortened life.”

The Innate Qi, the life force one is born with, gradually diminishes over time, eventually leading to death. In Namgung Seol’s case, this Qi was being used up far faster than normal, maintaining her flawless body.

Her snow-white skin, dark brows like ink, and pale peach-colored lips—all the features that earned her the title of Floral Monarch Peony—were the result of this excessive consumption of innate Qi.

If blocked veins were a curse that obstructed life, then overextended veins were a curse of excess, using up the life force that should have been preserved.

Her father had asked the physician, his voice trembling with desperation, “Is there no solution, Physician?”

“The beauty of the child is sustained by Yin energy. To counter this, her body needs an ample supply of pure Yin energy. Even if she practices Heavenly Thunder Imperial Divine Art, which enhances Yang energy, it will have little effect on her internal energy. The only solution is to fill her body with Yin energy. Otherwise…”

The physician’s words trailed off, leaving the rest unsaid.

Namgung Seol snapped out of her thoughts at her sister’s voice.

“Eonni, promise me you’ll stop for now.”

“Yes, I’ll do as you say. Forgive me.”

“Really? You promise?”

“Yes,” Namgung Seol replied with a nod, earning a relieved smile from her sister.

But it was a lie.

As she followed her sister, holding the lantern, Namgung Seol couldn’t help but think of herself as the flame inside that lantern—burning brightly, but destined to disappear once the oil ran out.

Before her oil burned away completely, she was determined to perfect the Imperial Sword Style.