Fabre in Sacheon’s Tang

My father-in-law and the clan elder responsible for the medical hall alternated in taking the child’s pulse, each frowning in confusion. Neither of them could find any significant abnormalities, and it seemed like they were at a loss.

Aside from the child’s penchant for sweets, she appeared perfectly healthy—her cheeks were rosy and her demeanor was far from that of a sickly child. I had my own concerns, though. The constant supply of sugar-laden candy she was eating raised red flags, especially considering the risk of childhood diabetes. The sugar content was alarmingly high in those treats, and I had seen enough to be concerned.

‘I’ve already seen three of those candies. Where are they all coming from?’

As I continued to watch the girl happily licking her candy, the conversation between the Peng Patriarch and the elders continued.

“So, she sometimes experiences shortness of breath, large rashes all over her body, and occasionally loses consciousness?” my father-in-law asked, his expression serious.

“Yes, exactly. Her pulse weakens, and she has a rapid heartbeat sometimes,” the Peng Patriarch confirmed.

He explained that the child’s symptoms included large rashes that appeared and disappeared across her body, along with shortness of breath, fainting spells, low blood pressure, and a racing heart. Over time, the symptoms would gradually fade, and she would regain consciousness.

My father-in-law tilted his head thoughtfully and then asked, “Have you shown her to any doctors?”

“Don’t even get me started. Those frauds! The child nearly suffocated several times, and they couldn’t find any reason for it,” the Peng Patriarch muttered bitterly.

“What about the Immortal of Medicine or the Immortal of Herbs?” my father-in-law asked, his tone calm but probing.

“They said they didn’t know where they were. I had one of the Immortal of Herbs’ disciples look at her, but they said she was perfectly fine. It wasn’t until one of the disciples made some ridiculous comment that I almost lost my temper!” The Peng Patriarch looked furious at the memory.

“What did this disciple say?”

The words that followed were far more serious than I expected.

“...They suggested it might be poisoning symptoms.”

“Poisoning!?”

The atmosphere in the room shifted instantly, growing colder with shock.

I understood now why the Peng Patriarch had traveled all this way with his daughter. Poisoning was the most likely explanation for the symptoms, and there was no better place to get treatment than the Tang Clan, known for its expertise with poisons.

‘So, he came seeking a specialist? But we’re not exactly poison doctors. We’re more like funeral specialists when it comes to poisons…’

While the Tang Clan was renowned for its expertise in poison, we specialized more in using poisons for funerary rites, not medical treatment.

“Hmm... based on your description, it does sound like poisoning,” my father-in-law finally responded.

The Peng Patriarch’s eyes widened with disbelief. “Are you serious!? I didn’t believe it when I heard that from the Immortal of Herbs’ disciple, but now the head of the Tang Clan says the same thing… I... I can’t believe it!”

“Poisoning in the Peng Clan?” one of the elders muttered, shocked.

“Impossible. This doesn’t make sense,” another elder added.

The tension in the room was palpable. The Peng Patriarch’s reaction and the other elders’ somber expressions made it clear that this wasn’t just a matter of the child’s health—it was something far more serious for the entire clan.

‘What’s going on here?’ I thought, sensing that the mood was far more grave than just concern for the child. This wasn’t just about illness—it was about the clan itself.

Just then, I received a quiet mental transmission from Hwa-eun.

[If the child’s poisoning symptoms are true, it suggests there may be someone inside the clan who poisoned her. This is serious. It means there could be a traitor within their own ranks.]

Her explanation hit me like a bolt of lightning. If the child had been poisoned, the very real possibility of betrayal within the family became undeniable.

‘Could someone from their own family be responsible for this?’

The implications were staggering. In the Tang Clan, being part of the family was about far more than sharing blood—it meant a deep, unspoken bond. The notion that one of their own could betray them was no small matter.

The Peng Patriarch’s reaction, one of anger and disbelief, confirmed what I had feared.

“Let’s not discuss this further! I don’t want to suspect my own family!” he said, his voice rising with frustration.

“Of course, let’s not jump to conclusions. Poisoning doesn’t always require a human hand behind it. It could be something as simple as an unknown toxic herb or a poisonous object in the house,” my father-in-law suggested, trying to calm the situation.

The Peng Patriarch’s frustration seemed to cool a little, but his words were still filled with tension. “You’re right. It could be something like that. So, could you look into it further?”

At this point, my father-in-law began the process of examining the situation more thoroughly, as a doctor would. He asked the Peng Patriarch a series of questions.

“When did the symptoms first appear? Where did they occur?” he asked, his voice steady and calm, signaling that he was about to dig into the details.

The Peng Patriarch thought for a moment before replying, “Mostly inside the Peng Clan’s compound. In the child’s room, and the Four Harmony Pavilion. She collapsed in the training hall once. It’s happened twice at night, and about four times during the day.”

“None of these incidents seem to have a common factor,” my father-in-law noted, his face growing more serious with each passing moment. The more details came out, the more complicated the situation seemed.

The conversation dragged on late into the evening, but by the end of the day, no clear answers had emerged. The Peng Clan was assigned a small, unused Four Harmony Pavilion for the time being, as the main guest house was already crowded with visitors from the Murim Alliance, the Ami Sect, the Qing Sect, and the Wudang Sect.

The decision was made to monitor the child’s condition closely and see if the symptoms reappeared. Whether this was a case of poisoning or some strange disease, further investigation was required. The consensus was that the next few days would be critical.

***

After dinner, Hwa-eun came to my room, carrying a few books and a small medicine chest with several vials inside.

• Thud!

The moment she opened one of the vials, a pleasant fragrance filled the air. She opened two more and asked me to distinguish the difference between the two scents.

“Can you tell the difference between these two scents?”

“Hmm… Aren’t they the same?” I replied, unsure.

“No, this one is the scent of a green apple. This one is the scent of a fully ripe apple,” Hwa-eun explained.

Both smelled like apples, but she insisted on distinguishing them based on whether they were unripe or ripe.

The reason we were sniffing fragrances was because Hwa-eun had begun formally training me to become a poison sommelier.

‘Poison perfumer, huh? Anyway…’

To become a master in poisons, I had to pass a test of distinguishing the scents of various poisons. That’s why Hwa-eun, having already passed the test with flying colors, was tutoring me personally.

“Do you notice any difference now?” she asked again.

“No, not really…” I muttered, still unable to differentiate the scents.

Hwa-eun sighed and, raising one finger, began to explain sternly.

“It’s hard to understand why we practice distinguishing these scents, but once I explain, you’ll see why it’s so important. Listen closely, So-ryong.”

“Yes, Hwa-eun.”

“The reason we distinguish apple scents is because the scent of an unripe apple is similar to the paralysis poison that the Safans often use. But the scent of a ripe apple is similar to the scent of the poison called 'San-gong.' This is the first thing we learn because it’s one of the most important distinctions.”

“Ah, I see,” I responded, beginning to understand.

Hwa-eun continued, “The Tang Clan's ‘nose’ is also used as a symbol to represent the Tang Clan when we’re outside. A counterfeit identification token can be made, but the Tang Clan’s scent is impossible to replicate. If anyone doubts your connection to the Tang Clan, you can prove it by your scent.”

‘Oh, so that’s why it’s so important.’

The ability to distinguish certain scents would become proof of one’s identity as part of the Tang Clan.

I resolved to work harder on my training. However, as we continued, the atmosphere outside seemed to grow more chaotic. A servant hurriedly ran into the courtyard and headed toward my father-in-law’s quarters.

“What’s going on?” Hwa-eun asked, walking toward the window.

The servant answered in a panicked tone, “Miss, Young Miss Peng has collapsed.”

“Yeong-yeong?” Hwa-eun asked, her face filled with concern.

She turned to me, her expression serious. “So-ryong, let’s go!”@@novelbin@@

I nodded, and we quickly left the room, heading toward the area where the Peng Clan’s family was staying. I was curious to see what was going on.

Arriving at the courtyard with a large zelkova tree, we found Yeong-yeong lying unconscious with a pale face. The Peng Patriarch was kneeling beside her, trying to channel his energy into her chest.

The scene reminded me of when my father-in-law had revived the village chief’s granddaughter back in Hainan.

“What happened!?” my father-in-law demanded, rushing toward the Peng Patriarch.

The Peng Patriarch shook his head. “I don’t know. She was sitting in the pavilion, coughing, and then suddenly collapsed.”

“I’ll check her pulse,” my father-in-law offered, kneeling beside Yeong-yeong and taking her pulse. After a moment, he looked up, his face clouded with confusion.

“This is strange. Her symptoms are similar to poisoning…”

• Smack! Smack! Smack!

Suddenly, the Peng Patriarch slapped his own face three times, as if in a fit of frustration.

“Patriarch!” the servants cried out in shock.

“Patriarch, what are you doing?” my father-in-law asked, bewildered.

The Peng Patriarch spat out a tooth, wiping the blood from his mouth. “Apologies! I doubted my own family for a moment. I can’t forgive myself!”

“What…?” my father-in-law asked, now understanding the gravity of the situation.

It seemed the Peng Patriarch had briefly suspected that one of his followers was responsible for his daughter’s condition. After all, only the people around Yeong-yeong could have caused such an issue.

‘It’s understandable to be suspicious when your own daughter is involved,’ I thought, realizing the tension surrounding the situation.

As the servants kneeled down and began slapping their own faces in a fit of guilt, Hwa-eun and I exchanged uneasy glances.

• Smack! Smack!

The Peng Clan warriors began to slap their own faces, muttering, “We failed to prevent the young Miss from being poisoned. This is our fault.”

“Enough! Enough!” my father-in-law shouted, his face pale in disbelief. “Stop! There hasn’t even been confirmation that this is poisoning yet!”

Despite my father-in-law’s command, the Peng Clan members continued their ritual self-punishment.

I stepped forward, raising my voice to intervene. “Everyone, calm down! We need to determine if it’s poisoning or some kind of illness. We can prove that no one is at fault if we take the proper steps.”

The warriors froze, their faces filled with confusion, before they stopped their actions.

The Peng Patriarch, his face strained, approached me urgently. “What do you mean?”

I wasn’t a medical expert, but I knew the importance of eliminating the cause. This was a basic method I had seen used even when treating sick pets.

“If it’s poisoning, the first thing we need to do is remove her clothes,” I began, but before I could finish, the Peng Patriarch grabbed me by the collar.

“What did you say!?” he barked, his eyes wild.

He was squeezing my collar, shaking me as his anger erupted. Hwa-eun, standing beside me, gave me a disbelieving look.

‘No! It’s not what you think!’ I desperately wanted to explain, but the situation was escalating too quickly.