Fabre in Sacheon’s Tang

The insect I grabbed with the tongs had a head resembling that of an ant, but its body was black and plump. My sister tilted her head, confused by its appearance. Soon, an orange liquid began to drip from the insect’s body onto the ground.

The reason I had insisted on finding a hornet nest, particularly one with low activity, was to locate this very creature. These little pests are infamous for terrorizing hornet nests.

“Why do they torment those poor hornets…” I muttered to myself.

“What’s this?” my sister asked.

“This is what we were looking for.”

“A Ji-dam?” she said, recognizing it immediately.

So this is what they call it here, I thought.

“I didn’t know Ji-dam could be found in hornet nests. That’s surprising.”

The insect I had extracted was called Ji-dam in the Central Plains. In Korea, it’s known as a blister beetle. Specifically, the one I caught was the Southern Blister Beetle. These beetles have a very peculiar way of infiltrating hornet nests.

Blister beetles don’t lay their eggs in safe, protective environments like other insects. Instead, they scatter them haphazardly on grass, tree bark, or any random surface. If they exercise any care at all, it’s in grouping their eggs in one spot. When the eggs hatch, the tiny larvae climb to the highest point they can find. Once there, they perform a remarkable trick—they mimic a flower.

The larvae group together to form a circular cluster, each larva extending its body to resemble a petal. Together, they create the illusion of a small, vibrant yellow flower. Hornets, mistaking this cluster for an actual flower, land on it to collect nectar. That’s when the larvae leap onto the unsuspecting hornet, clinging tightly as it flies back to its nest.@@novelbin@@

Once inside the hornet nest, the larvae discard their disguise and begin to feast. They start with the stored nectar and pollen but eventually move on to devouring the hornet larvae themselves, growing into adult beetles in the process.

“Among the various types of Ji-dam, these particular ones infiltrate hornet nests to consume the nectar, pollen, and even the larvae,” I explained.

“What awful creatures. I feel bad for the hornets,” my sister said, frowning.

She examined the beetle in my tongs more closely. “Doesn’t this one secrete a toxin that causes burns? I’ve also heard it can be lethal if ingested in large quantities.”

She truly was a member of the Tang Clan, well-versed in the nature of poisons.

“You’re absolutely right. The toxin can cause severe burns,” I replied.

The orange liquid seeping from the beetle’s body contained cantharidin, a highly toxic substance. When it comes into contact with skin, it causes blistering and painful swelling. In humans, it can leave scars and takes a long time to heal.

“But... can this really help restore the dignity of a certain someone?” she asked, her hesitation evident.

“Yes, it can. It’s all about how it’s used.”

Cantharidin isn’t just a toxin—it has a peculiar side effect. Once ingested, it is excreted through the kidneys and urine. During this process, it irritates the urethra, causing the genitals to swell. This unintentional effect resembles that of an aphrodisiac. Historically, cantharidin has been used for this purpose as far back as ancient Greece. It was famously employed by Roman empresses and European aristocrats during extravagant feasts and wild parties.

“Alright, that’s enough! Stop right there!” my sister exclaimed, waving her hands to silence me.

Her flustered reaction amused me, but I decided to let her off the hook. I stifled a laugh, content with having discovered a small weakness of hers.

Leaving my sister to recover from her embarrassment, I focused on gathering the remaining hornet larvae and a few unhatched pupae from the nest. Since some larvae had already matured, the pupae would suffice for what I needed. With our specimens in hand, we returned to the Mandokjeon, the Tang Clan’s poison-making facility.

“This way, Soryong. The Tang Clan’s poison masters will craft the medicine exactly as you instruct,” my sister said, guiding me into a space filled with strange tools and equipment. Instead of glass containers, there were ceramic vessels, various small furnaces, and devices designed for extraction. Poison masters, their faces partially veiled, quickly approached us at my sister’s signal.

I began explaining the process carefully.

“Cantharidin has a lethal dose of 0.5 milligrams per kilogram of body weight, and consuming just 10 milligrams can be fatal. The Southern Blister Beetle contains about 10% cantharidin, so precise measurements are crucial to avoid accidents.”

A record of the Sichuan Lord’s weight was retrieved, revealing that he weighed approximately 35 gwan—about 131 kilograms. That explained a lot about his current situation.

After performing several calculations using the ancient measurement system, I instructed the poison masters to dry the Ji-dam, grind it into a powder, and use only 0.375 milligrams of cantharidin per dose.

The poison masters were visibly impressed. One of them exclaimed, “Your calculations are remarkably detailed, Master Soryong! I will ensure this medicine is crafted to perfection.”

“Thank you. I’ll leave it in your hands.”

As I left the facility, I noticed my sister stealing glances at me. It seemed my intellect had left an impression on her. In a world where muscle often overshadowed brains, I truly was a rare find.

She’s lucky to have a brother like me, I thought smugly.

***

Late at night, in Mandok Shingun's residence, a quiet conversation was taking place between Tang Hwa-eun and her grandfather.

“So, he’s making medicine with Ji-dam?”
“Yes, Grandfather.”

The topic of their discussion was the medicine Soryong was preparing. Mandok Shingun, curious about what had happened, had asked Hwa-eun to recount the events of the day.

“To think that something capable of causing swelling and death when ingested could also have such effects when consumed in smaller amounts. We should really re-examine the poisons the Tang Clan possesses and explore their potential further.”
“Yes, I thought the same,” Hwa-eun replied.

Though the Tang Clan had studied Ji-dam’s poison before, their focus had been limited to determining the fatal dosage. They had never investigated what milder exposure might do to the human body. The idea of creating medicine from Ji-dam was novel and fascinating, sparking curiosity about whether other poisons might hold similar untapped potential.

“And you say he’s skilled in arithmetic, too?”
“Yes. He divided the dosage into tenths and explained it as being similar to the weight of ten drops of water,” Hwa-eun said.

“Is that so? Truly, he’s a remarkable boy. I thought his knowledge was limited to venomous creatures, but he’s much more than that. The more I learn about him, the more he shines like a gem.”
“Yes, Grandfather.”

“And? Has your opinion of him improved since the beginning?”

At this, Hwa-eun’s cheeks turned slightly pink as she nodded.
“Yes, Grandfather. I think I was too hasty in my judgment before, and I feel sorry for that.”

“Well, what’s done is done. As long as you treat him well moving forward, all will be fine. By the way, once the medicine is completed, how do they plan to test its effects?”

Mandok Shingun’s question made Hwa-eun hesitate. She fidgeted before replying in a voice barely louder than a whisper.
“They said they’d use it… to ‘set straight’ some of the elders from the branch families who’ve been acting out…”

“What?”

After hearing the full story, Mandok Shingun’s hearty laughter filled the quiet night air of his residence.
“Hahaha! What an amusing boy he is!”

***

Mandok Shingun’s tireless passion for relentless training allowed no rest days. However, for someone with a modern mindset, the concept of infinite training without a break was simply unbearable. Thus, after much effort, I managed to secure one rest day every ten days.

On my precious day off, I was practicing my inner energy cultivation by circulating my Small Heaven Circuit (Sojucheon) after breakfast, with nothing else to occupy me.

“Master Soryong, a message has arrived from Hyeonmujeon—the medicine is complete,” came the voice of a servant responsible for my room. She informed me that I was summoned to Gajujeon, the head family’s hall.

“I understand,” I replied, halting my cultivation. I immediately made my way to Gajujeon, curious to see how the medicine had turned out.

When I arrived at Mandokjeon, I greeted the elders before receiving the medicine from a poison master.

“Here it is, Master Soryong,” he said, handing me a small box containing tiny pills that resembled medicinal tablets.

“To make them easier to consume, we mixed licorice powder and honey for sweetness,” the poison master explained with unnecessary detail.

I nodded. “Good work. You followed my instructions precisely, correct?”

“Of course, Master Soryong. I meticulously adhered to the dosage you specified,” he assured me.

As I took the box, Mandok Shingun’s voice cut in with a question.

“So, the medicine is ready, but how do you plan to demonstrate its efficacy?”

Testing the medicine was indeed essential. I smiled confidently.

“I intend to let those who doubted its effectiveness see for themselves.”

“Good. We trust your skills, so let those skeptics verify it for themselves,” Mandok Shingun replied with a grin. He promptly summoned the branch family elders who had expressed doubts about the medicine.

Shortly after, a report came from the guards.

“Master, the elders from the branch family have arrived.”

“Let them in.”

The doors opened, and six branch elders entered, bowing respectfully to Mandok Shingun and the other senior members of the Tang Clan before inquiring about their summons.

“May we ask why we’ve all been called here?”

A small box was placed on the table. Mandok Shingun gestured for me to answer.

“The medicine has been completed. That’s why you’re here,” I said, pushing the box to the center of the table.

The elders blinked in surprise. “You? And is this the medicine meant for the Lord of Sichuan?”

“Yes. And since some of you doubted my abilities, we’ve called you here to confirm its effects.”

The elders exchanged glances, nodding.

“Confirmation, you say?”
“As the great elder suggested, it’s only right to test it first.”
“Indeed. We can’t risk sending untested medicine to the Lord of Sichuan.”

“Then let’s see it,” one of them said, urging me to demonstrate the medicine’s effectiveness.

I placed two pills in front of each elder. They blinked in confusion.

“What’s this?”

“This is your chance to confirm the medicine’s efficacy firsthand,” I said with a polite smile.

“Are you saying we should test it ourselves?”

“Of course. Who better to test it than those who doubted it?”

Their expressions darkened.

“Do you expect us to blindly trust that it’s safe?”
“Ha! What if there’s something dangerous in it?”

From what Hwa-eun had told me, these elders had cultivated their poison immunity to a level exceeding a hundred poisons. They should have no issue withstanding this test. I shot Mandok Shingun a quick glance, and he smirked, clearly enjoying the unfolding tension.

“I recall being told that those trained in Tang Clan martial arts fear no poison. Surely you aren’t... afraid?”

There it was—the one word no man, young or old, could tolerate. Fear.

Their eyes bulged, and their voices rose in indignation.
“Afraid? Us?”
“Ha! This young one dares insult us?”

“It seems you intend to humiliate us because we opposed you at first. But you’ve underestimated us!”

They scoffed at the idea of Ji-dam, dismissing it as a low-grade poison.
“Ji-dam? Such a trivial toxin isn’t worth fearing.”
“Fine. If there’s no effect, you’ll regret doubting us!”

Grumbling and seething, the branch elders each swallowed the two pills before them.

Moments later, as their faces flushed red and their posture shifted, the branch family elders’ pride and confidence were thoroughly restored.

In every sense of the word.