Fabre in Sacheon’s Tang

It would take two days to restock the supplies for the Zhuge family’s ship. During that time, we learned that another person would be joining us, carrying a letter addressed to the Namgung family, the heads of one of the Seven Great Clans. With no other option, we decided to wait before heading to the Namgung estate. Even though the strategist had mentioned some unrest within the Namgung family, we couldn’t afford to delay. After all, the only thing that could feed our blue-scaled lizards was reportedly there.

The morning after our decision, as I finished breakfast, the strategist, Zhuge Hu, came to fetch me.

“Follow me,” he said. “There’s someone who wants to meet you.”

“Understood, Strategist.”

I followed him to the tallest pavilion within the Murim Alliance—the Tianwu Pavilion—ascending to its eighth floor, the highest point. Apparently, the Murim Alliance Leader, Zhu Jung-hak, wished to meet me. A personal letter had even been sent to invite me. Curious and slightly apprehensive, I climbed the seemingly endless staircase, my calves burning with every step.

By the time we reached the top, a nervous servant was already waiting at an ornate door. Upon seeing us, the servant stammered nervously, “L-Leader, the strategist and the young master from the Tang Clan are here.”

“Let them in,” came a calm, grandfatherly voice from within.

The servant, unsure of which door to open first, fumbled for a moment before stepping aside, his face flushed with embarrassment. Zhuge Hu’s voice whispered in my mind through telepathic communication.

[This one’s new. The last servant didn’t quite work out.]

I stepped inside, bowing deeply as I greeted the Murim Alliance Leader.

“I am Wi So-ryong of the Sichuan Tang Clan. It is an honor to meet you, Leader.”

“Ah, so you’re the one. Come in, come in!” Zhu Jung-hak exclaimed, his voice warm and inviting. Despite his cheerful demeanor, his appearance carried the weight of countless battles—white hair, white eyebrows, and a face etched with the marks of hardship.

He eagerly approached and clasped my hand, his smile broad. “Tell me, those little creatures on your wrist and waist—surely they don’t bite just anyone?”

My sister had mentioned that the Alliance Leader was one of the greatest martial artists in the Central Plains, ranking among the top three. True to her words, his perception was astonishing. No one else had noticed the golden centipedes hidden on my body, yet he had realized their presence instantly.

“Of course not, Leader,” I replied, rolling up my sleeve to reveal the creatures. Zhu Jung-hak examined them with fascination.

“So these are the offspring of the Blue-Spotted Centipede? I’ve seen many things in my time, but this is a first. Fascinating! Well, sit down. Let’s have tea.”

He poured the tea himself, and as we sipped, the inevitable round of personal questions began—an expected ritual from someone of his age.

“So, I hear you’re engaged to a member of the Tang Clan?”

“Yes, Leader.”

“And your parents?”

“I’m alone in this world, without family or ties.”

I used a phrase I’d always wanted to try, a poetic flourish in classical Chinese. The Alliance Leader glanced at the strategist, who explained on my behalf, “The Tang Clan’s patriarch mentioned that the boy lost all his memories. He was found living alone on Hainan Island, catching snakes to survive.”

“Goodness, that must have been difficult,” Zhu Jung-hak said, his voice heavy with sympathy.

“It wasn’t so bad,” I said with a smile, gesturing to the centipedes. “I had these friends to keep me company.”

“...”

Though I spoke cheerfully, Zhu Jung-hak’s expression only grew more pitying.

‘Wait a second,’ I thought. Realization dawned on me—he must have misunderstood. To a normal person, keeping insects and reptiles as ”friends” probably sounded like the tragic story of someone too lonely to make human connections. Like a man on a desert island befriending a volleyball.

“I didn’t mean it like that—” I began, but Zhu Jung-hak interrupted with a knowing smile.

“It’s alright. Loneliness does strange things to people.”

“No, really—”

“Let’s move on,” he said, steering the conversation away before I could correct him. “I called you here because you’ve done a great service. I wanted to reward you.”

The promise of a reward instantly erased my frustration. After all, gifts had a way of making things better. Still, I was curious.

“A reward, Leader? But I already mentioned to the strategist what we needed.”

“Yes, I’ve heard about that. But that’s just information—pulling together details from the Murim Alliance’s records and sending them your way. The discovery you made is far greater than that. Do you realize the magnitude of what you’ve done? The Blood Cult has plagued the Central Plains for decades, and the venom you provided has given us the means to keep them at bay for good. That deserves a reward of equal weight.”

While his words made sense, I decided to maintain the Tang Clan’s tradition of humility. Accepting too eagerly wouldn’t be proper.

“All I did was defend my family and stumble upon the discovery in the process. Knowing I was able to protect those close to me is reward enough.”

As soon as the words left my mouth, the atmosphere shifted. Zhu Jung-hak fell silent, his expression darkening.

“...Defending your family and stumbling upon it, you say…”

I glanced at the strategist, whose wide-eyed expression suggested I’d said something unexpected. Before I could say anything further, Zhu Jung-hak spoke again, his voice softer now.

“I see. That’s why I felt such a kinship with you. We’re alike, you and I.”

“Alike? In what way?” I asked, genuinely confused.

Zhu Jung-hak reached into his robes and tossed a book onto the table.

— Thud.

“You might not understand now, but it’s not our faces that are alike.”

I chuckled awkwardly, unsure of what he meant. His tone turned somber as he continued.

“I lost everything to the Blood Cult—my family, my loved ones. In the end, I risked everything to save the last of my kin. That desperation led me to a breakthrough in martial arts, enabling me to achieve what I have today. I hear you threw yourself at one of the Blood Cult’s elders to protect your family, even while poisoned. Is that true?”

“Well, yes…” I admitted hesitantly.

“Then you and I are the same. A man willing to risk it all for those he loves.”

His words resonated, and I began to understand. It wasn’t about physical resemblance but a shared experience—the desperation to protect.

Zhu Jung-hak gestured to the book he had given me. “This is my clan’s martial art, the Iron Cabinet Technique (Cheolgwe Gong). I developed it myself. Since my clan has been destroyed, I have no disciples to pass it on to. Consider it my gift to you. Teach it to your descendants if you wish. Don’t worry—I have no intention of taking on the role of a master.”

“Leader! Your personal martial art?” the strategist exclaimed, his shock evident.

Zhu Jung-hak waved him off. “It’s of no use to me now. Besides, this boy has earned it.”

The significance of the gift wasn’t lost on me. This wasn’t just any martial art—it was the culmination of a lifetime’s worth of mastery.

“Thank you, Leader. I will honor your name and ensure this art is not misused.”

Zhu Jung-hak’s weary face softened into a warm smile. “Good. I’m sure you will.”

***

As I stepped out of the Alliance Leader’s quarters, holding the manual of his martial art technique, I couldn’t help but mull over the strategist’s parting words.

“Keep this a secret for now, especially from those outside your clan,” the strategist had cautioned.

“Why is that?” I asked, puzzled by his concern.

His voice dropped to a lower, more serious tone as he explained, “The person the Blood Cult wants to eliminate most is the Alliance Leader. If word gets out that you’ve inherited his martial art, do you think they’ll let you live in peace? Especially considering you’re also the one who uncovered their San Gong Poison. The fewer people who know, the better.”

‘So… I’ve unknowingly burned yet another bridge with the Blood Cult,’ I thought grimly.

His warning left me uneasy, but there was little I could do. I resolved to train diligently, honing the techniques I’d been given while staying prepared to fight dirty if necessary. Poison would always be my safety net.

“I understand, Strategist,” I said, nodding firmly.

The strategist glanced at me with a faint smile. “Good. Well, I’ll have to leave you here. I have more to discuss with the Alliance Leader. Can you find your way back to your quarters?”

“Yes, thank you for your concern.”

“Then this is where we part ways. You’ll be leaving early tomorrow, so take care until then,” he said, giving me a respectful nod before turning back toward the pavilion.

With that, I descended the steps of the towering Tianwu Pavilion, heading toward my quarters. It was close to lunchtime, and I figured I could grab a quick bite with my sister. Plus, it was a good opportunity to confirm if accepting the Alliance Leader’s gift was the right move—and to ask her why she’d so boldly declared me her fiancé yesterday.

“Excuse me, Young Hero Wi?”

A voice called out just as I was walking toward the guest hall. I stopped and looked around, spotting a man stepping out from the shadow of a wall, spear in hand.

‘Isn’t that Spear Dragon, Yang Seong-hoo?’ I thought, recognizing him instantly. Judging by his posture, he’d been waiting for me.

He approached and offered a polite bow. “It’s good to see you again, Young Hero Wi.”

“Oh, yes, good to see you too,” I replied, returning the bow.

The situation was awkward, and I couldn’t help but ask, “Were you just passing by, or did you come here looking for me?”

He hesitated before bowing again. “I came to see you. There’s something I’d like to ask.”

“Something to ask?” I repeated, raising an eyebrow.

We weren’t close, and we’d only met for the first time yesterday. What could he possibly need from me?

‘Surely he’s not here to ask me to vouch for him or something?’ I thought warily.

Before I could say anything more, he bowed even deeper and said, “I would like to request a duel with you.”

“A duel?” I asked, surprised by his unexpected request.

“Yes, Young Hero.”

A duel, or bi-mu, was essentially a sparring match to test martial skills. My sister had explained that it was similar to sparring in modern martial arts but could involve real weapons. Because of the risk of injury, it was usually only done between close acquaintances or in official competitions.

I returned his bow and replied firmly, “No.”

His expression turned to one of shock. “What? Why not?”

I could guess why he was so insistent. He likely wanted to test whether I was worthy of being my sister’s fiancé. But frankly, I wasn’t in any condition to spar. Not only had I not fully mastered any martial arts, but there was also the issue of my golden centipedes. If he even accidentally emitted a hint of killing intent, the centipedes might interpret it as a real threat and attack him for real.

“It’s too dangerous,” I explained.

He looked at me in disbelief and protested, “If it’s because you’re worried about injuries, I’ll remove the spearhead and hold back my strength. Just grant me this chance to confirm if you’re truly a man worthy of Lady Tang!”

‘Worthy? What does this guy even want me to prove? He’s like a college student challenging a middle schooler to a fight,’ I thought, exasperated.

Still, I shook my head firmly. “It’s not happening. It’s too risky.”

“Please! I promise I’ll take every precaution! I’ll hold back—”

He clearly thought I was afraid, so I interrupted him with a more direct explanation. “It’s not about me. It’s you who might die. That’s why it’s too dangerous.”

For a moment, his eyes filled with confusion. Then, they suddenly sharpened with resolve.

‘Wait… is he losing it?’ I thought as I saw a dangerous glint in his gaze.

Before I could react, he lunged toward me, determined to force a duel. In an instant, the air shifted.

— Slither.

— Whip.

— Snap, snap, snap.

My golden centipedes shot out from my sleeves and waist, coiling in the air between us. Their bodies writhed, their fangs bared as they hissed ominously.

“What… What is this!?” Yang Seong-hoo cried out, stumbling back in horror.

Sighing, I called the centipedes back and looked at him sternly. “Congratulations. I just saved your life.”