Love: Chapter 1
As I wrote down the name So-ryong’s Poisonous Creature Records right in front of my father-in-law and the rest of the family, praise came pouring out.
“So-ryong’s Poisonous Creature Records. A book in which So-ryong records everything about poisonous creatures. Something like that, eh? It may look ordinary at first glance, but when a man puts his own name on it, that means he means every word. Good. Very good.”
“Hmm… putting your own name on it? Bold of you, son-in-law. Still every inch the son-in-law, aren’t you?”
Men understand one another, after all.
I’d put my name on the book partly because, like Fabre’s entomological journals, if I was going to write one I naturally wanted my name on it—but more than that, putting your name on a book is a declaration of confidence. It means you’ll throw your whole heart into the writing. If the book turns out shoddy, the author gets cursed for generations, so hanging your name on it isn’t something you do lightly.
That was why I smiled at the two elders’ praise and answered, and they smiled right back at me.
“Yes. I’ll stake my name on it and give it everything I have.”
Once the naming ceremony for So-ryong’s Poisonous Creature Records was finished, I was granted a fortnight’s rest.
“Well then, you’ve been sleeping under the night dew for half a month, son-in-law. Go home and rest properly. We’ll see you again at dinner.”
“Understood, Father-in-law.”
“Son-in-law, I’ll have the maids prepare warm water. Stop by the bathing pavilion first and wash thoroughly.”
“Yes, Mother-in-law. Then I’ll take my leave.”
I paid my respects at the clan head’s residence and hurried outside. But the place I headed for was not the bathing pavilion my mother-in-law had indicated.
I had answered her that I would go, yet my feet carried me straight to the Poisonous Creature Garden.
Before I even stopped by the clan head’s residence after returning from the basin, I had already asked Commander Gu Pae—whom I’d met at Gu Jin Gate—to prepare something for me.
After half a month of rough sleeping, a hot bath and a soft bed were more desperately wanted than ever, but this was an urgent matter that simply could not wait.
“Is the thing I asked for ready?”
I rushed into the Poisonous Creature Garden and asked Gu Pae for a status report. He stepped aside with a slight smile.
“Yes, Young Master So-ryong. Will this do?”
Behind him stood a large chest containing exactly what I had requested, so I checked it at once.
“Plenty of holes in the lid. And the cloth?”
“Yes. I prepared black cloth separately, just as you said. When I ground the soil fine it kept turning to dust, so I mixed in crushed Pagoda Termite material the way you instructed and packed it tight. It hardened in no time.”
The chest Gu Pae had prepared was large, its lid riddled with holes. Inside, familiar red earth had been thickly plastered along the sides and bottom.
That red earth came from rock I’d had Bin-i collect from inside the Pagoda Termite mounds; I’d crushed it into red sand and then bound it with ant secretions the way the termites themselves do.
Thud. Thud.
When I rapped the wall it rang like solid stone.
“This should be more than enough.”
“So this will become the silver silkworms’ bedchamber, then?”
“Yes.”
I had asked Gu Pae to prepare all of this solely for the silver silkworms—so I could recreate an environment as close as possible to the Pagoda Termite nests where they had been raised.
Animals will let you know when their conditions are wrong, but insects and larvae move slowly and rarely show clear reactions, so you have to examine their surroundings with real care. If the temperature is too low their growth slows or they never reach full size, and that was simply unacceptable.
Maximum size is non-negotiable.
Among enthusiasts, the larger an insect grows the higher its value. In my previous life even kids raised stag beetles; a beginner-size specimen went for maybe twenty thousand won, but anything past nine centimeters had sold for as much as ten million. So even though I’d carried the silver silkworms on my shoulders during the journey, I’d made sure they spent every night inside Yo-hwa’s warm silk pouch. Now that we were home, I was determined to give them the best possible conditions.
If I was going to raise them, I wanted them big—and there were only two of them, so failure was not an option.
“All right, let’s put you two down.”
I lifted the pair from my shoulders onto my open palm. That soft, velvety feel again. Savoring the sensation, I lowered my hand toward the chest floor. I planned to take the box to my room and care for them myself, but since I still needed a bath I figured I might as well test whether they liked the setup.
The moment I set them on the soil, both larvae slowly raised their heads and latched onto my retreating fingers with those stubby little legs of theirs.
“Huh?”
One clamped onto my thumb, the other onto my little finger. For insects—especially larvae—it still felt oddly deliberate.
“Come on, let go of Daddy’s hand. Both of you stay home.”
I casually pried their short legs free and was about to withdraw my hand when Gu Pae spoke up in surprise.
“Young Master So-ryong—look at their horns!”
I checked the pair that had been half-hidden by my palm. The antennal-like horns were turning black from the roots up.
“What?!”
That was exactly how they looked when they blackened—the same appearance the first one I’d hatched had shown when it started spewing turbid energy. The vibe was unmistakably “we are not happy.”
I called out in a panic.
“Hey, hey, kids, no! I’m not leaving you behind!”
Fearing they might blacken completely like the first hatchling and start belching foul qi, I quickly brought my hand back. The two of them scrambled—by their standards—up my thumb and little finger and climbed straight onto my palm again. The blackness in their horns slowly faded.
Whew… that was close.
I wiped the sweat from my brow in relief—and then a tiny light began to bloom in the middle of my palm.
“Th-this is…?!”
I stared in astonishment. Bright light was flowing from the roots of their yellow horns, little candle-flames like the ones on a birthday cake. At the same time a cool, refreshing sensation spread through my hand.
Gu Pae’s eyes went round.
“Th-that pure energy?!”
When they felt bad they blasted turbid qi; when they felt good they released pure energy. That much was now clear.
“H-hurry and fetch Grandfather Mandok Shin-gun and Father-in-law!”
“Y-yes, sir!”
The discovery that they could radiate pure energy was huge. I sent Gu Pae racing off and simply stared at the two of them in a daze. Their leaf-like horns swayed in lazy contentment. The cool sensation at my fingertips made me circulate my energy without thinking, and my internal power began recovering so clearly I could feel it pouring back in. All the energy I’d burned racing home with light-foot techniques was refilling as if I’d plugged myself into a gas pump.
I shuddered.
These little guys… they’re healers!
When they glowed bright they were priests; when they went dark they were dark priests. Looking back I felt like an idiot. If the first hatchling could selectively spit turbid energy, of course these two ought to be able to selectively release pure energy too. I just never thought of it.
Heavenly Silkworms and Silver Silkworms might be the same species, yet they were also different. The sweet scent and nectar they used to lure or devour queen ants had, through evolution into a new form, become the ability to emit both pure energy and turbid qi.
I was still marvelling at this new piece of their ecology when my energy fully recovered. I opened my eyes to find two pairs of startled eyes staring at me—Father-in-law and Grandfather Mandok Shin-gun, both looking utterly dumbfounded.
“Th-this is…?!”
“So-ryong, what in the world is this now?”
I seriously debated how to answer.
Do I just say, “I got myself a healer”?
“Sleep well, everyone?”
Chirrr.
Chirp.
Coo-coo!
I rubbed my eyes, sat up from the straw pile, checked on the kids, and then looked at the two clinging to the wall.
“Moji, Soji—you two sleep well too?”
At my question their horns brightened for a moment, then dimmed again.
Yesterday we had confirmed that the pair could restore internal energy and aid meditation with pure qi, so the elders had immediately insisted on naming such precious creatures. Thus the two silver silkworms received names in a hurry.
Moji—thumb—and Soji—little finger. In the Central Plains tongue those were simply the names of the two fingers they always used to climb onto my hand.
Pretty good naming sense, right?
Names aside, their ability was wonderful, yet the clan elders who had heard the full story judged its practical use a bit ambiguous for now. Their energy worked on only one person at a time—solo heals. Communication still wasn’t precise enough that I could call on the power at will, and I wasn’t about to deliberately make them miserable just so I could cheer them up and force an ability out of them. The Five Poisons Sect might do that sort of thing, but this Fabre refuses to emotionally abuse the children he raises.
With ordinary pets you can scratch their heads or chins, but Moji and Soji are larvae; there’s nowhere to scratch, and I can’t guarantee that alone would produce a strong light. So we decided to keep observing until they reached adulthood.
“All right, let’s wash up and go get breakfast.”
I stuck Soji and Moji on my shoulders, wrapped Hyang-i around my other shoulder, left the now-extra-sleepy Bin-i and the too-large Cho behind, and stepped out of my quarters. By now the maids should have wash-water ready and waiting.
Creak.
When I opened the door, however, the person waiting was not who I expected.
It was Hwa-eun.
“Hwa-eun?”
Normally the maids attended me, yet here she stood holding a towel. When I looked puzzled she answered with an awkward expression.
“The maids said they were too scared to come… There are so many big poisonous creatures now that they’re frightened.”
Honestly—my kids are the gentlest creatures around. What nonsense. I made a mental note to advise that the next round of maid recruitment should cast a wider net for people who could handle this, then finished washing my face.
A warrior from the clan head’s residence came running with a message.
“Young Master So-ryong, the clan head asks that you stop by the main residence before breakfast.”
Being summoned first thing in the morning. I figured it might be about Moji and Soji’s newly discovered special ability, so I simply nodded.
“Understood.”
After washing I arrived at the clan head’s residence—and found an unexpected visitor waiting inside.
Seriously? The Beggar King first thing in the morning…
Elder Geolhwang was waiting for me.
“It is good to see you again, Elder Geolhwang.”
“Indeed. Have you been well?”
“Yes. But what brings you at such an early hour? So you were the one who summoned me?”
Apparently it was not my father-in-law but Geolhwang who had called for me. I tilted my head curiously, and he nodded as he answered.
“I came urgently on Murim Alliance business.”
“Murim Alliance business?”
As expected, he had sought me out because of Alliance matters. I pricked up my ears as he began to explain.
“Remember those pieces of intelligence you handed the Murim Alliance last time? After verifying them, the Alliance…”
The information we had brought back from Dai Viet. The Murim Alliance had examined the materials and identified two locations suspected to be Blood Cult strongholds. One lay beyond Dai Viet as expected; the other was inside the Central Plains near the Guangxi border—or more precisely, in territory whose ownership was ambiguous. Borders in this era were fuzzy, after all. They had planned a secret troop movement to strike the place hard and withdraw quickly.
The problem was that the authorities put the brakes on them. The so-called “officials and martial artists do not interfere” rule exists, yet a private armed force keeping large numbers of troops on the move drew an official warning. So the Murim Alliance had been sitting on its hands—until the strange deaths occurring in Akyang presented an opportunity.
“They said if we uncover the cause of the deaths in Akyang or resolve the matter, they’ll look the other way while we move troops.”
“Strange deaths? But why me?”
I asked why they would come looking for me over a case of mysterious deaths. Geolhwang simply smiled—and stole my line without so much as asking.
“Because it’s your specialty.”