Fabre in Sacheon’s Tang

“Huuuwaaah... no... please no...”

Sister Seol’s tears started to fall, big and heavy, like she just couldn’t believe what was happening.

“U-Unnie...”

Hwa-eun stood frozen, clearly flustered, not knowing what to do.

She looked completely blindsided—as if she never imagined that a grown woman like Sister Seol would cry over something like this.

But ”something like this”? That was the problem.

Hwa-eun was kind in so many ways, but when it came to emotional sensitivity—especially the kind Sister Seol and I shared—she really lacked that depth.

“She’s so warm to the kids, but when it ~Nоvеl𝕚ght~ comes to stuff like this... total empathy drought.”

Why was Sister Seol crying?

Because she had no choice but to leave behind the biggest and the cutest spirit beasts out of the ones I’d gifted her.

Seriously, it would’ve been weird if she didn’t cry.

If I had to abandon even one of my little ones, I’d break down too.

“Yeah, it’s heartbreaking. No question.”

Sister Seol clung to the enormous mountain goat’s neck and wailed like she was watching a tragic drama.

“Hnnngh... I already gave up the cutest one—why you too?!”

The ones I’d encountered after coming back from Cheongyu’s inner realm, the ones Orange had brought along... they’d brought a lot more joy to her than they ever did to me.

I mean, aside from reptiles, insects, and amphibians—I don’t care much for other animals. So I handed them all off to Sister Seol. She was over the moon.

“R-Rong-ah, um... is it okay if I... maybe keep one? I feel bad since you only just got them, but...”

“Of course, Sister Seol.”

“R-Really? I can pick one? Is that too selfish...?”

“Pick? No need. Just take them all.”

“What!? All of them? You’re really giving them all to me?!”

“Yeah, why not. I already have plenty of companions. And honestly, these ones suit the Beast Palace far more than me.”

“Th-thank you, Rong-ah! I swear I’ll take good care of them forever! I’ll never marry! I’ll stay by your side forever and be the best sister ever!”

“Wait, no—you should marry at some point...”

There were four of them: the mountain goat as big as a horse, the white cloud leopard, the dazzling pheasant, and the red bat. All powerful spirit beasts—and all much better suited to the Beast Palace than to me.

I already had my hands full with my venomous family. And one furry companion—Hwa-eun—was enough.

I did take some interest in the pheasant, given its brilliant feathers and the whole “birds are evolved dinosaurs” theory, but it wasn’t venomous. So, yeah. Not my thing.

Sister Seol had been walking around like she was on cloud nine ever since.

But as we started preparing to leave Yizhou, problems started cropping up.

First problem: the bat.

Turned out, it had a family.

It was a low-grade tropical bat, living in a colony like most of its kind.

We noticed them one night when dozens of bats suddenly appeared near camp—it was its family.

The problem was, tropical bats like those? No way to know if they’d survive a long sea journey.

And even if they did, where would they live afterward?

We couldn’t just take the bat and leave its family behind.

The Beast Palace had strict rules about this: Never separate a beast from its family.

Sister Seol sniffled as she spoke.

“W-We can’t take her... not if we have to leave her family behind. It’s okay. I still have three others...”

So she reluctantly let that one go.

But the bigger problem? The mountain goat.

Unlike the bat, it was a top-grade beast—so big Sister Seol could ride it.

It was powerful, agile, and could leap effortlessly across cliffs.

It had already taken Sister Seol on a few scenic joyrides and had won everyone’s hearts. It wasn’t wary of people, just like my own creatures.

Sister Seol had even let others ride it.

But then came the problem: its hooves.

Apparently, as part of its spirit-beast nature, it shattered wood on contact.

Literally.

At first, we noticed it when it stepped through a pirate structure—the wood splintered instantly. We thought it was just because the place was old and rotten.

But then it stepped onto the port deck... and boom. Wood exploded under its hooves, perfect hoof-shaped dents and all.

We tested it again on fresh timber—same result.

We were this close to loading it onto the ship. If we hadn’t tested it first, the whole boat might’ve gone down.

We even tried wrapping its hooves in special thread Yo-hwa crafted into shoes.

Didn’t work.

“Nooooo! Why you too?!”

If this were my past life, maybe we’d have steel-plated ships or reinforced decks. But in this era?

No such thing.

And we couldn’t just lie the beast down like Cheongwol. It wasn’t the type to sit quietly for days.

So I approached Sister Seol, gently placing my hand on her shoulder.

She turned, eyes full of sorrow.

“Rong-ah... this is too sad. I can’t take it...”

“I understand, Sister Seol. But we’ll come back for them later, okay? We’ll reinforce the deck with metal and return when it’s ready.”

“Wait, is that possible? Wouldn’t the ship sink from the weight?”

“Not if we do it right. I’ll find a way.”

“...Okay. I trust you.”

Hwa-eun watched us with a look of total disbelief—like she couldn’t understand how any of this was a big deal.

But this wasn’t something you understood with logic.

You felt it with your heart.

“She must be an E-type MBTI, right? Total extrovert.”

In the end, only the white cloud leopard and the flashy mountain pheasant ended up joining Sister Seol on the journey.

And the two biggest hearts got left behind.

***

A full moon lit up the night like it was almost dawn.

Our journey had taken us from Taiwan, tracing the coastline of the Central Plains northward.

Our destination was the Ak Clan in Dongpyeong County, located in Shandong.

To reach Dongpyeong, we had to pass through Fujian, then Zhejiang, and Jiangsu, before finally arriving in Shandong.

“Hyung?”

Unable to sleep, I stepped onto the deck—and saw a familiar silhouette.

He was standing quietly, gazing out toward the distant shoreline.

“Ah, So-ryong. Couldn’t sleep?”

“What brings you out here at this hour?”

“The Ak Clan is near. I guess I’m too restless to sleep.”

His voice was calm, but I could feel it—he was quietly excited, probably because he was about to see his beloved again.

I figured I’d keep him company.

“Well then, shall we chat a bit? I’m awake too.”

“You should rest, now that the kids are asleep.”

“Oh, don’t worry. Ever since we boarded the ship, they’ve been sleeping so much more. I’m finally getting a break.”

One undeniable blessing of sea travel—the kids slept a lot more.

Which meant one thing:

No mental chaos in my head.

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

Normally, they’d be buzzing with nonstop chatter, but something about the rocking of the boat or being cooped up seemed to knock them out.

Cheongwol couldn’t move, so she spent most of her time sleeping.

Hwayang? Well, all she ever did was eat and nap anyway.

Bini and Hyang couldn’t leave the cabin, so they joined the nap club too.

And Cheongyu? She was always a sleepyhead to begin with.

Which meant: I, for once, was at peace.

“Well then. Let’s talk.”

“Why don’t you tell me about Dongpyeong? About the Ak Clan?”

“Of course. The Ak Clan, you see...”

The Ak Clan was said to have been founded by the descendants of General Yue Fei, a legendary martial figure from the Song Dynasty. They were known for their crescent moon blades—a unique style of sabers and spears.

Their fist techniques were famous too, especially since many of them went on to serve in the imperial guard.

I had a question during the conversation.

“Hyung, the crescent moon blade—isn’t that the same one Guan Yu used in Romance of the Three Kingdoms?”

“Well, that’s how it’s popularly known. But in reality, the Green Dragon Crescent Blade was created during the Song Dynasty—long after the Three Kingdoms period.

It’s said that Yue Fei used it often. Not Guan Yu.”

“Ahh. So the blade came much later... But Hyung, isn’t a crescent blade basically a spear? Why is it called a ‘blade’ if it has a long handle?”

“True, the handle is long. But it’s still classified as a large saber. It was developed to combat cavalry from the northern tribes. That long handle is just part of its design.”

“Ah, I see...”

“Still, So-ryong, you really don’t care about anything except venom beasts, huh? Not knowing something every three-year-old in the martial world knows. Tsk tsk.”

“Oof... Really, Hyung?”

I knew we were close, but still—why throw in the “three-year-old” comment at the end?

Being close should mean you’re nicer to each other, not the opposite. I was just starting to feel a little miffed when Dosagong walked up quietly.

“So-ryong-nim, look over there. The water’s turning yellow—we’re almost at the Yellow River!”

I leaned over the railing to look.

And sure enough—under the moonlight, I could clearly see where the yellow silt-heavy water met the blue sea.

Dongpyeong, where the Ak Clan resided, sat along the Yellow River.

We were now heading upriver, along the Yellow River’s mouth where it met the West Sea.

We’d been traveling the Yangtze up until now—now we were entering the Yellow River.

“So I really am traveling all the major rivers of the Central Plains, huh?”

As I stared at the churning yellow waters, I sensed someone behind me.

Turning, I saw Hwa-eun, her long hair fluttering in the wind.

“So-ryong.”

“Oh, hey Hwa-eun.”

‘Can’t sleep either?’

That was my guess—until I heard my hyung’s voice.

“Well then, I’ll leave you two alone. I should get some rest.”

“No, Hyung, you don’t have to—”

“I’m not that dense, you know.”

And with that, he vanished with a knowing grin, leaving just the two of us.

Hwa-eun gave me a soft smile.

“He’s sharper than I thought—your hyung, Peng Gongja.”

“I-Is that so?”

“Definitely. Anyway, I heard we’re close to the Yellow River. You don’t seem nearly as excited as you were when we first saw the Yangtze?”

“Oh... right.”

I realized what she meant. Compared to how amazed I was by the Yangtze, I wasn’t showing much emotion now.

And there was a reason.

Most Koreans imagine the Yellow River as this naturally yellow body of water, but that’s not actually the case.

The truth?

It only became yellow due to environmental destruction.

Originally, it was a clear, beautiful river. But during the Qin Dynasty, when Emperor Qin Shi Huang began constructing the Great Wall, they cut down every last tree near the river’s upper reaches.

That exposed the soil. Over time, the sediment washed into the river, and thus—the water turned to mud.

Environmental destruction starting in 200 BCE. Isn’t that just peak Central Plains?

“Only in China could eco-disaster have 2,200 years of history...”

Anyway, there wasn’t much in the Yellow River for me to get excited about.

The Yangtze had river dolphins, giant softshell turtles, salamanders, giant beetles—plenty of creatures to get excited over.

But the Yellow River?

Mostly mudfish and carp.

“Not much in the way of venomous creatures I’d be interested in.”

“I see...”

“Anyway, what brings you out to the deck?”

“I couldn’t sleep. And... I’ve had that same feeling again—like last time. A little unease.”

“Unease?”

The way she said it made me flinch a little.

Last time she’d had a ‘woman’s intuition,’ something huge happened.

“But it’s not like I’m heading into the inner realm anytime soon. What’s there to be uneasy about?”

“True. Maybe I’m just nervous to be back in the Central Plains again.”

Her smile in the moonlight...

It was stunning. Absolutely breathtaking.

Just as I was caught up in her expression, I heard a strange sound from the direction of my cabin.

—Shiaa.

Cheongyu.

She’d opened the door and was stepping out.

“Oh, Cheongyu can’t sleep either?”

“Well, she did sleep all day...”

The moment Cheongyu stepped out onto the deck—

—Sh... Shiaa...

A long, low whimper slipped from her lips.

It sounded more like a groan than a cry. I turned quickly.

Cheongyu was staggering, clutching her temple.

“Cheongyu?!”

I rushed to support her, and she collapsed into my arms.

Her eyes closed as she sank into me.

“Is she sick?!”

“What’s going on? Cheongyu?!”

Hwa-eun ran over in alarm, just as Cheongyu’s eyes suddenly opened—and her voice rang out in my mind.

—Shiaa? So... So-ryong?

‘Yes, it’s me, Cheongyu! Are you in pain? What’s wrong? Tell me!’

It wasn’t the group chat—it was a private link. One-on-one.

Her expression slowly turned into a gentle smile.

It felt strange—she had never smiled like this before. Not once.

Even in her human form, Cheongyu never fully expressed emotion like this.

Something was different.

And then came her answer.

‘It’s me. Cheongyu... inside Cheongyu.’

“GYAAAH?!”

My eyes instinctively darted toward Hwa-eun.

And for some reason—I suddenly felt like I’d done something terribly wrong.

Even though... I swear I didn’t do anything.