So-ryong's Poisonous Creatures Record
When I showed the family the two Silver Silkworms I had evolved at the nest of the Pagoda Termites, everyone marveled at their exquisite appearance.
"Ohhh, so these are the Silver Silkworms?"
"Don't they look as if someone sprinkled silver powder all over them?"
"They're like living jewels."
I couldn't blame them. I'd imagined something like polished aluminum metal, but the real things looked as though glittering silver flecks had been dusted across their bodies—catching the light and sparkling like gemstones. Of course, even if they looked dusted with glitter, they were still larvae; no powder actually flaked off. It was simply the way their bodies appeared. More precisely, it felt as if their slightly translucent forms were filled with the kind of glitter slime children play with. The fluid inside kept shifting, reflecting light so that they seemed to shimmer. They even gave off a faint glow of their own.
I'd wondered how such a thing was possible, until I learned that the glittering substance inside the Silver Silkworms was energy itself. Because they had fed on the Empress Pagoda Termite—who was saturated with natural earth energy thick with turbid qi—I had assumed the silkworms would simply be full of the same. But according to Shin-tu, who had accompanied us, the energy they held was strangely twofold: dense, pure qi and equally dense turbid qi, coexisting side by side.
At first I thought he was just saying the same thing twice. Pure qi mixed with turbid qi is natural earth energy, isn't it? But as he explained further, the two weren't blended like water. They were mixed more like grains of sand of two different kinds. That was why the bright white of pure qi and the pitch-black of turbid qi wove together to produce that silvery sheen.
"Shin-tu said the pure qi and turbid qi are mixed like grains of sand, and that's what gives them this appearance."
When I explained that to the elders who were still admiring the sparkle, their eyes went wide.
"What utter nonsense…"
"May I examine them for a moment?"
I nodded at the request. The little ones were perfectly docile.
"Of course, Father-in-law."
Every martial artist knows the established truth that no one can hold two opposing energies at once. The moment I mentioned they also carried turbid qi, Father-in-law and Grandfather Mandokshingun felt along their backs with expressions of utter disbelief—then stared at each other with round eyes. Similar energies mix and dilute each other's purity; opposing energies repel and can make a dantian explode. That is basic common knowledge in the martial world. For both to coexist inside a Heavenly Silkworm, the pure qi and turbid qi should at least have been gathered separately, half and half. But they weren't. That made it all the stranger.
"It… it's true!"
"Shin-tu was right? What impossible nonsense…"
"Heh heh. So this is why they're called one of the Ten Great Poisonous Beasts? Because they can't be measured by human standards?"
Grandfather had a point. If something stayed within common sense, how could it be one of the Ten Great Poisonous Beasts? They destroy common sense—that's what makes them what they are. Yo-hwa turns into a human and even acts like one. Cho is a centipede that flies. If the Heavenly Silkworms belong to the same Ten Great Poisonous Beasts, then even as juveniles they ought to be different somehow. That much was obvious.
While I was nodding to myself, Grandfather Mandokshingun's question came from beside me.
"By the way, why did it take so long? Shin-tu went with you, but you were so late we began to worry."
Of course he had worried. The plan had been simple: go to a basin that normally took a little more than two days from the Tang Clan, confirm whether the Heavenly Silkworms really became Silver Silkworms after eating a queen termite, and come straight back. By the original schedule it should have been finished quickly. Naturally they had expected us home soon. So had I.
But there was a reason it had taken a full fortnight: hatching new ones and turning them into Silver Silkworms had simply taken time. The previous hatchling had drained a queen dry in a single day, but the newly hatched ones, being fresh from the egg, needed five whole days to finish one queen. There had been other matters that ate up time as well, of course.
"Those little ones clung to the Empress Pagoda Termite's body and drew on its energy for five days?"
"Yes. The larger one that hatched last time took everything in a day, but these had only just left the egg, so absorbing all the energy took five days."
"Still, didn't you say you wouldn't hatch any more because of the food problem? What do you intend to do about feed? The mushrooms will be cultivable soon enough, but what about the termites? Do you plan to keep going back there yourself?"
Grandfather was right. Originally I hadn't meant to hatch any more precisely because of food. The reason I had done it anyway was further research. When a hypothesis is proven by experiment, it stops being a hypothesis and becomes a theory—a firm conclusion. But does that mean the research is finished? Absolutely not. To establish a theory with real completeness, you need all sorts of supporting studies. So once the first one had become a Silver Silkworm, rather than hurry home I had intended to observe it for a few more days. I would need to raise Silver Silkworms myself, after all; I had to learn their habits and ecology.
And that was when I discovered something astonishing: once they became Silver Silkworms, the creatures that had eaten termites and mushrooms no longer ate either. Fellow Ten Great Poisonous Beasts like Cho and Yo-hwa live only on natural energy and yang energy, so perhaps the change was similar. Whatever the reason, the newly silvered ones showed no further interest in ants or mushrooms. After three days of watching them refuse food, I immediately began hatching more.
"Once they become Silver Silkworms, they no longer eat mushrooms or Pagoda Termites."
"Oho. So you had a proper reason for hatching them after all."
"Yes, Grandfather."
And that wasn't all. I am a modern man who knows how to use time efficiently. While the Heavenly Silkworms spent five days drinking energy and turning silver, I took the opportunity to examine them thoroughly and learned a great deal.
First, hatching them by pouring inner energy into the eggs is not the proper method. It is a kind of forced, accelerated hatching. Inside the termite nest we found several eggshells I had missed last time. After discussing it with experts like Shin-tu, Hwa-eun, and Sister Seol, we concluded that natural hatching probably occurs over a very long period as the eggs absorb energy seeping from the mushrooms.
I also discovered a fact that stung me badly. The one I had hatched previously—now that the food problem was solved, I should of course have brought it back. There was a reason I hadn't. That little thing was ferocious. A wriggler can only be so fierce, true, but I had thought its horn released only a fragrant scent. It turned out it also leaked a foul energy, just like the caterpillars of tiger swallowtails. It was pouring out black turbid qi in clouds; there was no way I could bring it home. Shin-tu had said that hatchlings raised with someone's inner energy usually imprint on that person. Mine must have spent too long in the wild and reverted. The ones I hatched this time with my own energy, and raised from the start on my shoulders, were thankfully very gentle with people.
"…And that is everything I managed to learn."
When I finished laying out all the facts I had uncovered, the two elders looked at me with warm, proud smiles. After a silent moment of regard, Grandfather Mandokshingun turned to Father-in-law.
"Clan Head, that."
"Yes, Father."
"?"
At Grandfather's instruction, Father-in-law took a very luxurious-looking volume from one side of the bookcase in the clan head's hall and slid it toward me.
"This is…?"
A book almost the same size as the Compendium of All Poisonous Beasts Under Heaven I had seen before, its cover made of red silk. Wondering if this too might be some kind of bestiary, I asked with bright, eager eyes. Father-in-law gestured.
"Have a look. See if it suits your taste, my son-in-law."
It felt like a gift for uncovering the secrets of the Silver Silkworms. Full of anticipation, I reached out at once.
Flip.
Yet even when I opened the first page, no title was written. Come to think of it, there had been none on the cover either. Suspecting it might be a secret volume, I turned several more pages—only to find every one of them blank. What… what is this? Given a blank book as a present, I looked at Father-in-law in confusion. He was still smiling broadly.
"What did you think of the Compendium of All Poisonous Beasts Under Heaven I showed you last time?"
"Pardon? Well, it was a fine book. A bit worn, though."
He was right—it was good, but so old it needed rebinding. Many of the pictures and characters had faded. Father-in-law nodded at my answer, then held out an inkstone, ink stick, and water dropper to Hwa-eun.
"Hwa-eun, would you grind some ink for us?"
"Yes, Father."
Soon the only sound filling the clan head's hall was the soft grinding of ink under Hwa-eun's hand. Grandfather Mandokshingun, Mother-in-law, and Father-in-law all watched her with smiles.
Swish, swish.
It felt like something meaningful was happening. What on earth…? Wait—could it be?! A marriage contract?! The thought that flashed through my mind was the red book, and asking Hwa-eun to grind the ink. In the Central Plains, red is the auspicious color of weddings. They had said we couldn't hold the ceremony until I came of age, but perhaps, because I was producing results, they meant to make us husband and wife on paper first. Where the wedding night would go was another matter. Then… starting tomorrow, do I have to call Hwa-eun my wife? The idea alone made my heart pound. I waited in taut suspense until Hwa-eun's voice came.
"It's ready, Father."
The ink was prepared. I was still thinking that Grandfather would offer some words of blessing, Father-in-law would write something like a marriage pledge, and Hwa-eun and I would sign, when Father-in-law handed me a brush.
"Son-in-law, your father-in-law and I have thought it over carefully. Your wisdom and knowledge surpass even our clan's Compendium of All Poisonous Beasts Under Heaven. What if we made a book of it and left it for later generations?"
"Pardon?! A book?!"
Not a marriage contract—an invitation to write and publish. Well, it would go into the clan archives, so "publish" was a stretch, but still. I looked from Hwa-eun back to the blank volume. The proposal had firmly stopped the deflating balloon of my hopes. Then again… maybe this is even better than a marriage contract? He was telling me to create my own poisonous-beasts bestiary from everything I already knew and everything I would still learn. The Compendium I had so longed to see had been little more than a list of short entries with pictures—useful for looking up names, not for real practical help. Being invited to write one myself was a proposal that struck my personal taste dead center. Father-in-law, you terrifying man… you are my sniper… From the daughter who suited me to the book that suited me, he seemed to know me far too well. I asked again in a startled voice.
"D-do you mean it?!"
"Of course—if you wish it."
I didn't need to think twice.
"I-I wish it!"
My loud cry made the elders nod.
"Then write your name on the very last page. If you already have a good title in mind you may write it now, but that should be considered carefully, don't you think?"
Write my name in the book and take it away to fill with records. He said to take my time with the title, but this Fabre already had one ready.
"Ah, no need. I already have a name in mind—may I write the title now?"
"Is that so? Just like you. Hwa-eun, dip the brush in ink and give it to So-ryong."
At Father-in-law's request, Hwa-eun wet the brush and handed it to me. With the brush I received from her, I began to write the title I had chosen on the red-silk cover, one character at a time, with the greatest care.
So-ryong's Poisonous Creatures Record.
After all, if it's Fabre, it has to be an insect chronicle.