Stolen Goods 1
Hwa-eun sat in the pavilion with her cheeks flushed a deep pink, her gaze fixed firmly on the ground.
—Guk…
—Guu…
“H-hnh…”
Every time the muffled, insistent sounds of Seoli and Bingi drifted out from the bushes, Hwa-eun’s face flushed scarlet all over again, then slowly cooled, only to burn once more.
Too embarrassed even to meet my eyes, she fidgeted with her fingers for a long while. Only after the noises finally quieted did she try to change the awkward atmosphere, speaking in a careful little voice.
“Th-that… if they’re going to do that, I mean… why were they fighting?”
Apparently she thought Bingi had been attacking Seoli’s nape and Seoli had been screaming and fleeing in every direction because the two of them were fighting. Most lizard mating, however, looked exactly like that.
When an ovulating female and a male in heat met, the courtship did not begin with romantic wooing. It began with the male overpowering the female. He bit down on her cheek, nape, or tail to pin her in place, and only then did the mating start—so the whole scene could look rather rough.
On top of that, the “guk-guk” noises Hwa-eun had imitated, claiming they were fight sounds, were actually courtship calls. Some male lizards made that sound while gripping a female’s cheek or nape. Roughly translated, it meant something like “Bear my kids.” Real alpha males, those lizard boys.
I could see why Hwa-eun had misunderstood. Normally the pinning phase was quiet and over quickly. The reason these two had made such a racket was almost certainly inexperience. If the female wasn’t ready or had never done this before, she resisted hard—and to an ordinary person that looked like a full-blown brawl. That must have been what Hwa-eun had witnessed.
I explained, hoping to clear up the misunderstanding.
“They’re not fighting. That’s part of the mating process. The male has to pin the female so she can’t move before the actual mating can begin.”
“M-m-m-mating!?”
At my explanation Hwa-eun stammered so hard she looked ready to collapse from high blood pressure. For a sheltered young lady from a wealthy house, the topic was clearly far too steamy. Hwa-eun already had zero resistance to anything racy; now she had not only witnessed the sacred reproductive act of animals but was getting a detailed lecture on it.
“Yes. You don’t need to worry. By the way… it looks like we won’t be able to go to the Murim Alliance after all.”
I had wanted to tease her a little longer, but the fear that her blood pressure might actually make her faint made me change the subject to our planned visit to the Alliance.
“W-we can’t go? Why not?”
Hwa-eun stared at me with a face that clearly asked what on earth the lizards mating had to do with going to the Murim Alliance. There was a reason, though.
It varied by species, but ordinary lizards mated and then laid eggs anywhere from two weeks to about two months later. Seoli and Bingi were spirit beasts, so they might be a little different, yet if we set out for the Alliance they could easily lay eggs on the road. Given their personalities they would insist on coming with us—which would mean giving birth by the roadside. That was as good as guaranteed.
The problem was that I had never raised this species before. I had no idea whether they buried eggs in sand, laid them in rotting leaf litter, or whether the parents brooded them. Collecting eggs on the open road under those conditions? High chance the eggs would never hatch.
So we simply could not join the journey to the Murim Alliance. Even with every possible nesting environment prepared in advance, receiving eggs on the roadside was something we absolutely could not risk.
“They mated today, so Seoli will probably start laying eggs anywhere from half a month to a month from now. If we announce we’re going to the Murim Alliance, they’ll all try to follow us. That’s why I said we can’t go. If they tag along, they’ll lay eggs somewhere on the road there or back, and without knowing how to hatch them we’d miss the window and the eggs would just rot.”
“I see. Then I should stay behind… Ah, no—I’ve never taken lizard eggs before, so So-ryong should be the one who stays. In that case I’ll have to explain the Mountain Viper’s venom carefully to Grandfather, or at least prepare a thorough letter.”
Hwa-eun nodded as she listened. At first she had clearly planned to stay herself and send me off, but her conclusion was correct: I had to be the one who remained. In the entire Tang Family I was the only person who had ever overseen lizard egg-laying—other than Seoli and Bingi themselves. Leaving anyone else behind would be useless.
I would still have to put together a detailed, presentation-style explanation of the venom for them, of course. Make it so clear it jumps off the page at a glance, right? Ah… Seol Nui is going to be a little disappointed, isn’t she?
Seol Nui had been bubbling with excitement about traveling the Central Plains with us; she would definitely feel let down. But there was nothing I could do. This was simply the fate of a breeder. Once the numbers grew and breeding began, travel became nothing more than a dream. That was the breeder’s life, wasn’t it?
“Then when should we tell them?”
“After dinner, while we’re having tea, I think. We can share the happy news at the same time.”
“All right, So-ryong.”
Seoli and Bingi were already adorable; the thought of how cute their babies would be made my heart race. Big round eyes, tiny mouths, and those dainty little tails. Lizard hatchlings were just ridiculously cute.
That evening at the Tang Family dinner table.
In the Tang household it was customary to finish the meal and then linger over tea while chatting. The moment the conversation began, I informed Seol Nui, Grandfather, and my father-in-law that I would probably not be able to go to the Murim Alliance.
“Grandfather, the truth is I don’t think I’ll be able to join this trip to the Murim Alliance.”
“You can’t go? Why not? Is it because of Bin? I already told you I’m sending the family warriors out to keep searching for him, didn’t I? As for the Mountain Viper’s venom, it would be best if you explained it yourself, but… well, the child ran off and hasn’t come home. Leaving the house empty doesn’t feel right either. Someone should be here when he returns, ready to give him a thrashing. So it can’t be helped?”
“So-ryong can’t go? Why? You said you’d come to the Murim Alliance with me!”
Grandfather, the Ten-Thousand Poison Divine Lord, nodded in understanding. Seol Nui, however, looked thoroughly put out and immediately demanded an explanation. Warriors from the Beast Palace had accompanied her, yet she clearly disliked the idea of going all the way to the Alliance alone. The original plan had been to stop by the Tang Family, prepare samples, and then head straight to the Alliance with her. Searching for Bin, who had been missing for several days, had delayed us, but we could still have left at any moment.
In answer to Seol Nui’s question, Hwa-eun spoke up carefully in my place.
“W-well… it seems we’re about to become grandparents… Still, I’ll go with you, Unnie.”
“Grandfather? Grandmother?”
“You’re going to be grandparents?”
“What on earth are you talking about?”
“Hwa-eun, what do you mean?”
Grandfather and Seol Nui stared at each other in open confusion. My father- and mother-in-law also blinked, completely lost. If an unmarried daughter claimed she was about to become a mother, one might think things had simply moved a little too fast—but becoming a grandmother was impossible no matter how fast things moved.
—Guk-gu?
—Guu?
Hwa-eun set Seoli and Bingi on the table so she could explain why we couldn’t go. The two lizards tilted their heads with the cutest expressions imaginable. Then Hwa-eun looked at me with pink cheeks, clearly too embarrassed to say the words herself and begging me with her eyes to take over.
S-So-ryong, can you…?
I nodded slightly at the telepathic plea and explained to the adults.
“Actually, Seoli and Bingi paired up and had their first mating today. They’ll probably lay eggs sometime between half a month and two months from now. If we travel, we’d end up collecting eggs on the open road, so I’m afraid I have no choice but to…”
“Oh my goodness! Really!?”
“Oho! So these two are going to be parents!?”
“Son-in-law, is that true!?”
Even my father-in-law lit up with delight. Everyone was overjoyed at the news that Seoli and Bingi were about to become mother and father.
“Yes, Father-in-law.”
“Not long after opening the Poisonous Creature Garden you’ve already discovered two poisons that can thrash those Blood Cult bastards, and now the first spirit-beast breeding as well! Incredible! Just incredible! It won’t be long before our Sichuan Tang Family is overflowing with venomous creatures!”
“Hahaha. I was fretting because one of the children ran away from home, and now good news arrives too.”
“How are we supposed to celebrate this?”
My mother-in-law, who had never kept venomous pets herself, asked how one properly congratulated such an occasion. Seol Nui smiled and answered.
“Shall I tell you how we do it in the Beast Palace?”
“Ah, of course. The Beast Palace raises so many beasts—you must have plenty of experience with this. So what do you do there?”
“Well, in the Beast Palace we…”
That night, out of nowhere, a red lantern was hung in front of my quarters.
The person who rejoiced most at the possibility of Seoli and Bingi’s babies was none other than Seol Nui herself.
Ever since I first showed her Seoli and Bingi she had insisted their names suited hers perfectly and had been eyeing them hungrily. She kept saying that Seolpyo and the Snow Ice Lizards went wonderfully together. That was why she had repeatedly asked whether she could have one of the hatchlings. Now that eggs might actually be coming, she was the most excited of all.
Which was why, late that night, Seol Nui came to the quarters Hwa-eun and I shared to put in a reservation for a hatchling. She latched onto my arm and asked in a coaxing voice,
“Hey, when Seoli and Bingi’s babies are born you’ll give me one too, right? Right?”
Breeders had an iron rule: never give animals away for free. No matter how expensive the specimen, the moment you handed it over for free because of a personal connection, its value dropped to zero and the odds of it being neglected or abandoned skyrocketed.
Think about it. If you paid ten million won for a pet lizard, would you treat it carelessly or dump it? But if you received even a ten-million-won animal free from an acquaintance, its perceived value plummeted; the moment keeping it became difficult, it would be passed on or abandoned. That was why breeders like me absolutely never did free rehoming.
When the person wanting the free rehoming was family, however, the story changed. I could hardly demand ten million won from Seol Nui. Besides, she was from the Beast Palace—the paradise of every animal in the Central Plains. There was zero chance she would abandon a free animal. So I nodded.
I had received martial arts from her, a huge amount of pocket money to use at the Tang Family, and no small number of other favors from the Beast Palace. The greatest gift of all, of course, was something money could never buy: a family.
“I don’t know yet whether they’ll drive the grown young away or form a family group. If they drive them off, I’ll give you one. But if they form a family, there’s nothing I can do.”
I agreed for now, yet lizard habits varied widely. Some species laid eggs and abandoned them; others raised their young as a family. I simply couldn’t give Seol Nui a firm promise.
In my previous life, one expensive pet lizard—the girdled armadillo lizard—was covered in armor and lived on desert rocks. Those lizards formed colonies of thirty to sixty animals. Because they gave live birth, the parents cared for the young, and successive generations stayed together on the same rocks. If Seoli and Bingi turned out to have similar habits, I would never be able to separate a hatchling from them. That was why I couldn’t promise anything definite.
Seol Nui, being someone who raised beasts herself, understood at once and nodded.
“Of course. We can’t tear a family apart. I wouldn’t ask for one then either. I only meant if the mothers drive them off once they’re grown.”
We were just wrapping up the discussion of the rehoming plan when I stepped to the window to close it.
—Siiing!
“Watch out!”
—Tak!
Seol Nui, who had been smiling a moment before, suddenly launched herself forward and snatched something out of the air right in front of me. She spun toward the open window and shouted,
“Who’s there!?”
What had flown in through the open window and landed in Seol Nui’s hand was a single arrow. The instant she confirmed it, Hwa-eun dashed out of the quarters; a whistling throwing knife left her hand and streaked into the night sky.
—Piiiieeek!
Moments later the family elders and warriors who had been standing ready poured in a noisy crowd in front of my quarters. Torches flared up all across Tang Family Mountain. Even Cho and Yo-hwa appeared in front of my door.
“Intruder! Find them!”
Warriors scattered in every direction searching for the trespasser. My father-in-law came running, demanded an explanation from Hwa-eun, and flew into a rage in the space of a few heartbeats.
“Exactly what happened, Hwa-eun!?”
“An arrow flew into So-ryong’s quarters!”
“What!? Who dares shoot an arrow inside the Tang Family’s Nine-Truth Gate—into my son-in-law’s quarters, no less! Find them! You will find them no matter what—!”
An arrow had entered Tang Family Mountain in the middle of the night—into the very quadrangle used by the direct line. The emergency that had just been lifted because of Bin was immediately reinstated. Father-in-law’s furious bellows sent still more torches blazing up on every side. The warriors who had rushed to the quadrangle were about to fan out again when Seol Nui, still holding the arrow, spoke in a puzzled voice.
“But… there’s a letter and jujubes tied to the arrow?”
“Jujubes!?”
“Jujubes!?”
“Unnie, did you say jujubes!?”
The mention of jujubes startled the whole family. Everyone stared at Seol Nui’s hand. Sure enough, two jujubes and a letter were bound to the shaft. The moment Father-in-law saw the fruit, his furious expression vanished and he ordered the warriors,
“A-ah, never mind. Everyone stop making a fuss and disperse.”
“Yes, Family Head.”
My son-in-law had nearly been shot dead by an arrow, yet Father-in-law was suddenly calling everything off? I looked at Hwa-eun for an explanation. She took the arrow from Seol Nui and handed it to her father.
“So-ryong may not know this, but in the Central Plains jujubes symbolize something fast or early.”
“Fast or early?”
“Yes. That’s why they’re used as the token of the Thief Emperor, Divine Thief.”
“Divine Thief—so a thief?”
“Well… he is a thief, but a good kind of thief? Ah, you met Beggar King Geolhwang last time, didn’t you? He’s one of the Three Emperors and Five Emperors along with the Beggar King—except he belongs to the Five Emperors rather than the Three. He’s the Thief Emperor, and this is his token.”
Some sort of righteous thief, then? At first the word “thief” made me uneasy, but hearing that he ranked roughly as the Beggar King’s peer made me nod. That meant he was powerful.
“But why would someone like that send us a letter?”
I tilted my head, wondering why a thief would be mailing the Tang Family. Hwa-eun continued.
“The Divine Thief practices a one-person complete-transmission martial art, and that lineage has a rule.”
“A rule?”
“Yes. ‘Nothing may be received from anyone unless it is stolen.’ So whenever the Nine Great Sects or the great families need something from him, he sends a letter like this announcing that he will come to steal it. Later he repays the favor by performing a service of equal or greater value. That’s why, when a letter from the Divine Thief arrives, some families even set the item out where it’s easy to steal.”
“What kind of absurd rule is that…?”
You couldn’t accept anything unless you stole it first? What kind of ridiculous code was that? I made a face of pure disbelief. Father-in-law smiled.
“Having something stolen isn’t pure loss. It means you can call on the help of one of the Five Emperors.”
In short, hand over one item and gain the aid of an extremely strong martial artist—hardly a bad trade. Then Hwa-eun spoke again, sounding worried.
“Since the Thief Emperor is coming, we’ll have to warn the children. They mustn’t attack him if they see him. Cho, Yo-hwa—if anyone asks about someone wandering around at night, you mustn’t bite them, all right? Someone getting hurt would be a disaster.”
She was telling us to make sure Yo-hwa, Cho, and the Golden-haired Bee Kings didn’t bite the visitor. If they mistook him for a burglar and bit him, both sides would be in serious trouble.
As if answering her, the two pets gave soft cries.
—Tseurrr.
—Kishit!
Hwa-eun nodded at their replies and asked her father,
“But Father, what item is the Thief Emperor coming to steal?”
She was curious about the target. Father-in-law’s face went blank with panic; he looked straight at me and blurted out something utterly ridiculous.
“H-he’s coming to steal So-ryong…”
“What!?”
The “item” he intended to steal was me. Everyone froze in stunned silence. Into that quiet courtyard Hwa-eun’s voice fell, suddenly ice-cold.
“Kids? Mommy thinks she misspoke a moment ago. From now on, if you see anything moving at night—bite it.”