Fabre in Sacheon’s Tang

”Ah... A lantern? Then is it alright if I just make a lantern? That’s simple enough.”

I expected him to be surprised, but instead, the village chief nodded with a cheerful face.

Something felt off, so I asked again.

Normally, when someone asks you to make a lantern, they’d be at least a bit flustered. But he answered like it was the easiest thing in the world.

Which meant it had to be one of two things:

Either he was incredibly generous, or... he completely misunderstood what I meant.

It was usually the latter. That’s why I had to double-check.

“Uh... how big are you thinking, exactly?”

“Well, a lantern would be... let’s see...”

The village chief glanced around the sky like he was searching for something.

He seemed to be looking for the moon in response to my question—but what kind of moon shows up in broad daylight?

“Ah! That’s right, it’s daytime! Damn this scatterbrained head of mine.”

Realizing what time it was, he flicked himself on the forehead, then held up a fist and smiled.

“Maybe about this big? Though that’s a bit small—let’s go with about this size.”

He now held his arms apart, roughly the size of a watermelon, grinning as he did.

A bucktooth glinted in the sunlight as he smiled with innocent pride.

His smile was so bright and sincere that I reflexively blinked.

“The moon’s usually smaller, but the lantern’s got to be big if you want it to shine. Young master.”

Even offering friendly advice, the man looked like he genuinely wanted to help.

I was a bit dumbfounded—but then I realized something.

In the Central Plains, the moon was considered a mysterious place where the moon goddess Heng’e lived.

But that was just a legend.

Without any formal education in astronomy, the village chief probably just thought the moon was as big as it looked to the eye.

Well, there were still plenty of people on 21st century Earth who believed the Earth was flat.

So of course, in this kind of ancient era, it wouldn’t be strange for someone to think the moon was only as big as it seemed.

‘So pure.’

Smiling awkwardly, I decided to clearly explain the size I wanted.

“Mm... I think I worded it wrong earlier. I’d like it to be a bit bigger.”

“How big?”

“How big can you make it?”

At that, the village chief’s expression turned slightly uneasy, and his voice trailed off.

“Well, I mean... if we really put our minds to it and got everyone involved, we could make it as big as you want, but...”

“Oh! Really?”

When I brightened at his words, the village chief, now clearly flustered, began listing all sorts of excuses.

“But moving it would be difficult even if we made it, and it’d be hard to use too... And if it’s too heavy, it could break easily... plus it’d use a lot of oil...”

He kept bringing up how hard it’d be to move and how inconvenient it’d be to use, but all I needed was the biggest lantern possible.

So I smiled and politely asked.

“Still, I’d like you to make it as big as possible.”

“As... as big as possible, you say?”

The village chief was finally starting to panic, and just then, I heard Grandpa’s voice in my ear.

[So-ryong, country folk like him don’t live lavish lives. I don’t know what you need such a big lantern for, but to make one that size, you’d need a lot of paper. That’s probably why he’s hesitating.]

‘It’s because of the paper?’

Looking around in surprise at the sound of Grandpa’s voice, I spotted him approaching.

So it was because he didn’t want to waste paper? That threw me off a little.

Then again, in the Central Plains, there were three things that were cheap above all else: paper, sugar, and people.

Paper was cheap because many households could make it themselves.

Sugar, though I thought it’d be expensive in this ancient time, was widely cultivated from sugarcane south of the Yangtze, so it wasn’t as pricey as expected.

And people—well, there were so many of them that labor was dirt cheap.

Not in the sense of slavery, but simply that wages were low.

So to think he was hesitating over paper...

‘Ah, now I get it.’

But thinking about it a bit more, it made sense why he was anxious.

The bigger the lantern, the more paper you’d need. And no matter how cheap paper was, a huge lantern would still require a lot of it, and that adds up.

Even a drizzle can soak your clothes.

Cheap as it may be, a massive amount of paper still costs money.

And while I might think it’s cheap, that’s by my standards—

To someone who makes a living selling lanterns, the cost could be significant.

‘I must’ve lost my sense of money after becoming a rich son-in-law.’

Since I asked him to make it as a gift, he probably assumed I meant a small one. But if the materials alone cost enough to make hundreds of small lanterns, then of course he’d feel burdened.

Feeling a little guilty, I reached into my pouch and pulled out a few silver ingots, offering them to the village chief.

This was money given to me to buy some good food for my trip to Hwa-eun’s older brother’s place, and to treat the grandpas to something nice. But I hadn’t had any chance to spend it in a rural village like this.

“Ah, a big lantern’s going to need a lot of materials. I hope this helps a little.”

“Th-this is a huge sum!”

The village chief was shocked by the amount, but he shook his hands emphatically.

“I can’t possibly accept this from a benefactor!”

“But I really need the lantern...”

“I’ll just make it for you.”

“That would burden you, and I can’t allow that.”

Take it.

I won’t.

As we went back and forth, Grandpa, who had just arrived, asked a question.

“So-ryong, why are you asking for a lantern anyway?”

“Well...”

I started to answer, then glanced at the village chief standing beside me.

Should I explain it somewhere else? But then I realized I’d need the villagers’ help to set up the lanterns.

[It’s essential for catching the Blood-Blossom Dream Illusion Butterfly.]

[Is that so?]

I whispered to Grandpa that it was crucial for capturing the Blood-Blossom Dream Illusion Butterfly, and then asked if it might be better /N_o_v_e_l_i_g_h_t/ to tell the chief what was going on and get his help.

[Since I’ll need some help from the villagers, I think I should explain what’s happening to the chief...]

[If you need people’s help, then yes, that’s probably best.]

With Grandpa’s approval, I explained the situation to the village chief. His eyes widened in shock.

“A-a venomous creature is in the village!? That’s terrible news! Are you saying we’ve all been put to sleep by poison!? Master Yak Seon, are we safe!? Are the children safe!?”

He grabbed Grandpa’s sleeve and desperately asked.

To calm him down, I spoke firmly.

“Please, calm down, chief. It’s nothing serious.”

“Nothing serious? How can this not be serious!?”

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

“But we have the best physician in the Central Plains right here, Master Yak Seon. What’s there to worry about?”

I mean, he couldn’t make antidotes, but still—

When the village chief looked at Grandpa, Grandpa gave him a confident nod.

A look that said, “Just trust me.”

That finally seemed to calm the chief a bit. He then cautiously asked,

“But if it’s a spirit beast and a venomous one at that... how do you plan to catch it?”

He was asking what I’d do if it was something beyond healing—how I’d actually deal with the creature.

Clearly, with Grandpa’s reputation, he had no worries about treatment.

‘This is why fame matters.’

Smiling, I stepped forward.

I brushed my hair back from my ear with confidence and explained.

“I didn’t want to say this myself because it’s a little embarrassing, but if it’s a venomous creature, there’s no need to worry.

People... tend to call me this.”

“?”

“The Daddy of All Venomous Creatures Under Heaven.”

The village chief blinked furiously at my self-introduction.

***

The village chief agreed to make the lantern.

Though he pretended to resist, in the end, he accepted my money.

‘Maybe they’ll remember the Daddy of All Venomous Creatures Under Heaven as a true chivalrous man.’

Since things had gone smoothly with the chief, I started chatting with Hwa-eun, feeling pretty confident that my reputation would be one of righteousness.

『“You’re saying it might not be poison but something similar to soul-capturing techniques?”』

What Hwa-eun had figured out wasn’t something else entirely—it was a theory that the venom of the Blood-Blossom Dream Illusion Butterfly might not be a true poison.

『“Yes. You keep waking up on your own, don’t you? And it happens after you hear my voice. So I think it’s not just poison, but something more like a soul-capturing art that lulls the heart into slumber.

That’s probably why only you, who can communicate through the heart, are able to wake up.

I mean, it’s not like my voice is so terrifying it’s scaring your sleep away. Hehe.”』

‘GYAAAH!’

I genuinely flinched at her final joke.

Because honestly, I had been wondering if that might be the case.

And yeah... her voice is kind of scary sometimes.

‘Does Hwa-eun actually have divine powers or something?’

I steadied my racing heart.

Then, worried she might catch on to what I’d just thought, I quickly started explaining what I’d figured out.

『“A-anyway, I should tell you what I’ve discovered next.”』

『“Yes! I’m curious. Please tell me quickly.”』

『“While I was listening to the village chief talk, I started piecing together how the Blood-Blossom Dream Illusion Butterfly ended up in this village.

The villagers fell asleep the night after they lit the lanterns. But the butterfly likely showed up the very night the lanterns were first lit.”』

Based on what the village chief had told me, I was fairly sure of the culprit’s route of entry.

It had likely seen the light from the mountains or ridgeline near the village and drifted in.

Most of my insect companions are nocturnal, and they usually avoid light rather than being drawn to it.

So typically, they wouldn’t be attracted to lights—but the Blood-Blossom Dream Illusion Butterfly seemed to be nocturnal.

Normally, butterflies are diurnal insects.

About 100 million years ago, they diverged from moths and evolved into daylight creatures.

Because butterflies feed on nectar from flowers, they chose the daytime, when flowers bloom.

But if this butterfly fed on blood—not just from humans, but from animals too—it would have to be nocturnal.

After all, animals sleep at night, and that’s when they’re most vulnerable.

And if it’s nocturnal, it wouldn’t be able to resist the allure of light.

Even if they’re spirit beasts, my companions don’t stray far from their instinctual categories.

So it made sense that this thing was drawn into the village by the lantern’s glow.

Well—technically, maybe not “drawn” so much as “guided.”

『“Ah, you mean like other bugs that are attracted to lights?”』

『“Yes, exactly.”』

『“So it followed the light into the village, then probably hid and observed everyone for about a day.

And when it saw there was no danger, it put people to sleep and began feeding on them.”』

That’s how most wild animal attacks happen in villages.

Some creature just wanders in by chance, sees all the crops and vegetables growing, and decides to stick around.

This butterfly probably thought the same thing after watching for a day: a whole village of humans, ripe for the taking.

From its perspective, the village must’ve looked like an all-you-can-eat buffet.

『“Ah, I see now.”』

『“Yes.”』

But when I finished my explanation, Hwa-eun’s response was a little underwhelmed.

It didn’t seem all that important to her.

『“Anyway, have you come up with a way to catch it? I hope the stuff we figured out was helpful...”』

As expected, she asked if I’d thought of a way to capture it.

I smiled and answered confidently.

『“Of course I have.”』

『“Really? How?”』

『“Since the lantern was what lured it in, I plan to catch it... with a lantern.”』

『“With a lantern? Please tell me more.”』

『“I’ll explain after I catch it.”』

She sounded a bit disappointed, but I couldn’t tell her yet.

That would spoil the fun.

***

Two days later.

At last, the lantern was finished.

We used the bamboo growing all around the village to build the frame, then pasted paper over it to create that classic round shape associated with the Central Plains.

Its diameter? Ten feet wide.

It was enormous. We hung it up in the village square.

We bundled together some tall bamboo stalks at either end of the square, set them upright, then strung a rope between them and hung the lantern in the middle.

“Do you like the color?”

“Yes. I like it.”

The color was blue.

The kind of blue that nocturnal insects go crazy for.

Night insects are especially attracted to ultraviolet light, so we chose a shade close to that spectrum.

And so, that night, with the lantern complete...

I stood alone in the square under the stars.

Well—almost alone.

I had brought Hyang with me, asleep in my arms.

Beneath the lantern, a pot hung filled with the body of a freshly killed pig.

As the village once again began to bathe in a soft red hue, I guided Hyang’s fangs into the pig’s flesh.

Then, carefully pressing the venom glands, I began to extract her poison into the meat.

Immediately, fire flared up from the pig’s eyes.

—Fwooosh!

As the brilliant flames surged skyward, I set Hyang gently down beside me and began pulling the rope.

“Ungh—one, two—!”

The pot rose slowly, inch by inch, until it disappeared into the lantern’s interior.

And the moment it vanished inside...

The red wave rolling in from the village was swallowed by the lantern’s brilliant blue light.

And then—there it was.

The Blood-Blossom Dream Illusion Butterfly, soaring in from deep within the village, headed straight toward us.

‘Welcome.

It’s going to be a bit dizzying for you.’