Fabre in Sacheon’s Tang

Right. The two stains on those pages—one was a map of Yunnan, and the other a map of the island of Taiwan.

But it wasn’t like some treasure map where a specific spot was marked with an X or anything like that.

They were just rough depictions of the landforms—no clear markings.

Yunnan and Taiwan Island were drawn with a kind of ancient map aesthetic, vague and blurred.

Yunnan’s shape was hard to make out, but the island of Taiwan looked almost like a modern map in its level of accuracy.

“Why would there be maps like this here? Yunnan and Iju? They don’t seem to have anything in common. Could this be indicating where the Golden-Crowned Snake King—Cheongyu—might be found?”

“But that would be strange too, wouldn’t it? I’m sure Cheongyu was discovered at Mount Paltaesan...”

Just like Hwa-eun said, there was no reason for these two locations to be drawn together.

Even if, as she suggested, it was meant to indicate places where the Golden-Crowned Snake King might be found—it still didn’t add up.

According to what the martial artists had uncovered from those Imokryong bastards during the search, Cheongyu had been at Mount Paltaesan.

Which meant there was no reason for these two locations to be related—no real connection.

They were far apart, and if you were really trying to find a commonality, the best you could say was that they were at similar latitudes and had similar climates.

Sure, they differed in being maritime vs. inland, but Taiwan and southern-central Yunnan did share the same latitude.

So if you had to find some shared trait, it could be the temperature.

“I agree... why though?”

The three of us leaned in, staring at the maps, thinking deeply about why such things would appear on a page describing the Golden-Crowned Snake King.

That’s when a sound came from the window.

–Shyaa.

–Shiaaya.

It was the snakes.

Looking over, I saw Cheongyu and Yeondu poking their heads in through the open window.

Their expression seemed to say, What are you guys up to?

“What is it?” Hwa-eun walked over and asked.

But instead of answering, the two snakes slithered right in through the window.

They crawled into Hwa-eun’s study and came over to sit by me.

–Shyaa.

–Shiaaya.

They clearly seemed to be asking what we were doing.

I explained gently, interpreting their sounds.

“Oh, we were looking up some information about Ji-yeong Snake, one of the Twin Earth Serpents. You two came to hang out? We’re in the middle of something though, okay?”

The two nodded as if they understood.

That’s when Sister Seol, who had been staring at Yeondu, suddenly clapped her hands.

“Oh! I remember now!”

“You do? Remember what?”

“Yunnan. That’s where we found Yeondu, wasn’t it?”

Her words jogged my memory.

She was right. The moment she said it, it clicked in my head too.

“Ah—yes. If we go by that...”

“Right. One side of the page that has the Golden-Crowned Snake King shows Yunnan, and the other shows Iju. If both sides are marking locations that matter, then Yunnan was where Yeondu was found, and Iju might be where the Ji-yeong Snake is!”

It was a very plausible theory.

I’d dismissed the shared latitude as coincidental, but if Sister Seol was right, then it was a vital clue.

Bi-cheon Shin-sa and Ji-yeong Snake are a pair.

If so, it would make perfect sense for them to live in similar climates—same latitude, same temperature preferences.

Even if they were spirit creatures, their environmental preferences were clear.

“Then we definitely need to investigate Iju.”

Both Hwa-eun and Sister Seol nodded at my words.

“Yes, So-ryong.”

“So Iju is next, huh?”

Taiwan Island wasn’t exactly small, so the search might take a while.

But with Yeondu—Bi-cheon Shin-sa—on our side, we could manage somehow.

Just as Yeondu had sensed Cheongyu from far away, the Ji-yeong Snake might be able to sense Cheongyu too.

And so, our next destination would be Taiwan.

An island means endemic species—and Taiwan’s got things like devil lizards, burrowing geckos, tree-climbing lizards... While I’m there, I might as well catch a bunch and do some breeding.

I’ve been raising only big guys lately—been craving some little ones, you know?

The moment I heard we were headed to Taiwan, the problematic heart of Spicy Fabre couldn’t help but race with excitement.

There was so much to look forward to.

***

We took what we’d found and went to see the Patriarch and the clan elders.

They say you should strike while the iron’s hot—so I planned to get permission right away.

Finding the Ji-yeong Snake wasn’t just about marrying off Yeondu.

It also involved my Five Poisons promotion, Cheongyu’s final evolution—so many critical things were tied to this.

There was nothing more urgent for our household right now.

Of course. This is about leveling up our future son-in-law’s specs.

When we arrived at the front of the Patriarch’s Hall, some of the warriors were about to escort Yeondu inside.

I raised a hand to stop them and called out toward the inner chamber myself.

“Father-in-law, are you in?”

His voice answered immediately.

“Come in.”

With his permission, Hwa-eun and I entered the hall.

Inside, he was buried in a mountain of paperwork.

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

A few elders were seated across from him, discussing something amongst themselves.

“Alright then, let’s proceed with that plan...”

“You’ll be going to the Martial Alliance this time.”

“Understood, elder. I’ll take the juniors with me and return safely.”

Damn, he looks seriously swamped.

He was incredibly busy—no time to breathe, really.

I scratched my head, a little hesitant.

“Um... if it’s a bad time, I can come back later.”

He looked up from the documents with a gentle smile.

“No, it’s fine. I’m drafting the dispatch to send to the Martial Alliance. The matters at Paltaesan still haven’t been completely resolved.”

“What’s this about?”

Aside from the Five Poisons goons who came to the Tang estate, some of the ones who had scattered across Paltaesan had been caught or pursued by martial artists in Sichuan—but very few were captured.

The rest were still scattered across the continent.

That’s why dispatches were being sent everywhere, and reinforcements requested—it explained why things had been hectic for days now. Clearly, the situation hadn’t ended yet.

Seeing how tired he looked, wiping his face dry as if forcing himself to stay awake, I figured now was a good time to tell him the news that might lift his spirits.

“We may have discovered a clue about the Ji-yeong Snake’s whereabouts.”

The moment I said it, the Patriarch’s eyes widened.

The other elders stopped speaking mid-conversation.

“Really?! Is that true?”

“Yes, Father-in-law.”

“Then explain it to me at once.”

His face had looked tired—until I mentioned we may have found a trace of the Ji-yeong Snake.

As soon as I said that, the Patriarch’s expression brightened immediately.

At his request, I gestured to Hwa-eun, and she helped explain.

“In fact, while we were reviewing the Secret Compendium of Venomous Creatures in her study, we discovered this.”

“So-ryong and I found it together.”

We opened the page we’d discovered and tilted it toward the window to let the sunlight shine through it for him.

As the light hit the page, the faint outline of Yunnan’s map appeared.

“Ohh! Another hidden secret? That’s Yunnan, isn’t it?”

Unlike Hwa-eun, who had needed a moment, the Patriarch recognized it as Yunnan at a glance.

He nodded, then tilted the book toward the opposite page and asked, “And this side?”

“Yes. The other side is Iju.”

“Iju?”

“Yes, Father-in-law.”

“You mean Dayuan, then.”

“So they call it that too? In any case, the reason these two maps appear together... Yeondu was found in Yunnan, so...”

That’s the Central Plains for you.

Too many ethnic groups, and no standardization of vocabulary. Words don’t settle into a single form—each region has its own way of naming things.

Because of that, in this time period, Taiwan seems to be referred to as both Dayuan and Iju.

The Patriarch, after reviewing both maps, nodded and said,

“Then the Ji-yeong Snake may be in Iju—in other words, Dayuan. That’s what you’re suggesting?”

“Yes, Father-in-law.”

As expected of him—he grasped the implication immediately, even with the briefest explanation.

After examining the book for a little longer, he tilted his head and asked,

“Still, something doesn’t add up. Normally, °• N 𝑜 v 𝑒 l i g h t •° maps have some kind of marker. But these don’t.”

It was a fair question. He understood they were maps, but wondered why there were no X-marks or locations pointed out.

“Since we’re dealing with living creatures, they move constantly. It would be difficult to mark a specific position. So I believe the maps simply show the general regions where the creatures tend to dwell.”

“Hm. That’s certainly possible.”

Perhaps he also considered the inaccuracy of maps in this era. He nodded thoughtfully.

But then he rested his chin on one hand, frowning slightly with concern.

“Still... if what you say is true, Iju... Iju, hmm...”

The branch elders all nodded at once.

And I could roughly guess what was on their minds.

The reason they were reacting that way was simple:

During the recent captures, it had become clear that the Five Poisons Sect was targeting me, and more importantly—Iju wasn’t even part of the Central Plains.

The island of Taiwan—referred to here as Iju or Dayuan—had only recently been part of the Central Plains in this world’s history.

People tend to mistakenly believe that Taiwan had always belonged to the Central Plains, but in reality, it had only been incorporated relatively recently in the late era.

At this point in history, it was still more or less considered foreign land.

So naturally, they were uneasy about sending me—someone being actively hunted by the Five Poisons Sect—out of the country to foreign territory.

‘Getting permission won’t be easy, huh?’

It made sense. I’d be going abroad, not even staying in domestic territory.

There’d be no help from the martial artists of the Central Plains, no support from government soldiers—who were at least somewhat reliable.

As if reading my thoughts, the Patriarch spoke again.

“I understand for now. I’ll consult with my father.

But in these times, with the Five Poisons scum clearly targeting you, it’s difficult to send you off to a place outside the Central Plains...

And even if you do go, you’ll likely need official approval or aid from the authorities. That’s going to be a big issue in itself.”

I nodded quietly and left the Patriarch’s Hall.

‘So basically, I need help from someone with power if I’m going to leave the country—even though we don’t exactly use passports here.

That means... should I try sending word to that Commander I once relied on?’

While I was wondering who I could reach out to for support—and how to make the permission process easier—Hwa-eun’s voice echoed in my head.

‘So-ryong, if we’re going to get Father’s permission, I think we need to ask for help from that person.’

‘Who do you mean?’

‘If we’re going to sail to Iju, we have to go out through the Yangtze River’s mouth. We’ll have to pass through Nanjing and head south from Mamen.

You remember who’s stationed there, right?

We already helped her out once. She won’t turn down a favor like this.’

I thought through her words.

‘Nanjing... Mamen... down south... who did we help down there again?’

Then it clicked.

That martial arts-obsessed princess.

Yes, not far past the Yangtze’s mouth, there was Wuzhang Island—where Princess Mu is stationed.

If I could get help from her, getting a foothold on Taiwan would be simple.

‘Ah, if it’s her, she’ll definitely help. We’re both otakus, after all.’

***

Of course, the person most worried about me was Hwa-eun.

So it should’ve made sense for her to oppose my trip to Iju.

But when she actively started helping me instead, I couldn’t hide my surprise.

She just sighed and answered plainly:

‘You’d go anyway, even if I tried to stop you.

And honestly... I can feel bits of your heart surfacing now and then. I can’t bring myself to oppose you completely.’

I used to think the heart-link we shared only had downsides, but in moments like this—it really showed its value.

Apparently, I’d been unintentionally bombarding her with silent pleas.

Feeling that things were working out well, I immediately wrote a letter to the princess.

The one delivering the letter was Yeong-ryeon, the disciple of Swift Walker.

Since we’d promised to supply her with silver silkworm cocoons and look out for each other, she didn’t hesitate to use her lightness skill to travel all the way to the Zhu Mountain Islands.

Two weeks later.

She returned with a reply from the princess, while I was sitting in the pavilion, playing with the kids.

“You’re just out here playing while I’m out running errands?”

She looked slightly exasperated to see me hanging out like that, but hey—life’s like that sometimes.

“It’s not really playing, more like...”

“Save it. Just take the letter.”

She pouted and handed over the envelope.

Unfolding the letter, I was greeted by bold, vigorous handwriting—typical of the princess—and a short, to-the-point message.

“I get what you’re saying.

As it happens, I’ve also got some business in Iju. Perfect timing.

Let’s talk in person—there’s a small favor I need.”

It was great that she also needed to go to Iju.

But... the phrase “a small favor” made me just a bit uneasy.

The last time she asked me for “a small favor,” it had been the kind where you could lose your head if word got out.

‘It’ll be fine... right?’