Questions That Shorten Lifespan
Asking questions that shorten your lifespan isn't a good idea! …………… A week.
That much time had passed since I'd started shuttling between Kim Bom's house and her shrine, working away. My laptop screen displayed the emoticon file I was working on—a cute face on a white body, a parody character scampering around on all fours. It was freelance work I'd taken on.
Progress is coming along nicely.
Just as I could code effortlessly in Han Minseo's body back then, I could draw well in Yeoreum's body too. In fact, it was more efficient than working in that tiny one-room. Probably because Kim Bom's house was so quiet and comfortable.
Clink. Kim Bom set a cup down beside me. Today it was jujube tea. Yesterday ginger tea, the day before yuzu tea. Preparing a different kind every day had become her routine.
"Thank you."
"Not at all! I'm not disturbing you while you're working, am I, Yeoreum?"
"Of course not. You're actually helping."
It was true. She never spoke to me while I was working. She just quietly set down tea, occasionally opened the windows for ventilation, brought snacks, and sometimes even prepared meals. It was an absurdly perfect work environment. Perfect enough to make me feel a little guilty inside.
Is it really okay to just lap this up without giving anything back?
If there's kindness given, there should be some returned. I hadn't given Kim Bom anything yet, so I felt a twinge of unease. If she suddenly presented a bill for all this hospitality, what could I even offer?
...Am I being too much of a city slicker with thoughts like that?
Yeah. Truth be told, Yeoreum was flat broke. She had nothing of value to repay with. And Kim Bom was a good person. She didn't seem the type to help others expecting some massive reward.
Sometimes I'd go with her to the shrine. I'd work in the small back room where she prepared for customers, surrounded by ritual clothes, bells, and all sorts of shaman tools. Drawing emoticons amid that was a pretty surreal experience.
The shrine only opened two or three times a week. According to Kim Bom, "If you open too often, you lose the scarcity value." It was weird, but somehow convincingly persuasive.
"Yeoreum."
Kim Bom called out suddenly from the kitchen.
"The weather's nice today—want to get some fresh air outside?"
"Outside?"
I replied without taking my eyes off the laptop. I was just starting the next sketch.
"Yes! I thought we'd make a little vegetable garden in the yard out front. Together."
A vegetable garden. To someone like me who'd only ever lived in the city, that was like a story from another world. Who has time to dig dirt and plant seeds when you're busy just surviving?
"I don't know the first thing about farming..."
"It's fine! I don't know much either. It's just for fun."
Kim Bom sat down beside me. Her faint, unique fragrance tickled my nose.
"More than anything, it'll be good for your health, Yeoreum. Staring at a computer all day stiffens you up. It's not good for your heart either."
Heart. That word left me without a rebuttal.
In reality, my routine over the past week had been incredibly simple. Wake up, eat, sit at the laptop and work, eat, work more, then back home for some internet surfing on the remaining data before bed. Exercise? Just trips to the bathroom and walking between her house and mine.
"Light exercise is essential for health. And fiddling with soil is great for a mood boost—good for the mind too. Reduces stress."
Physical and mental health. Reasons that were hard to refuse. Besides, I was in debt to Kim Bom right now. Free Wi-Fi, occupying her living room space, free tea, occasional free meals. The polite thing to do was accept a suggestion like this.
"Okay. I'll give it a try."
Her face lit up at my answer.
"Really? Great! Then let's start right now. I've already got the seeds and seedlings ready."
Already prepared everything? What if I'd said no?
While I entertained silly thoughts like Did she foresee I couldn't refuse?, Kim Bom took my hand. It was warm and soft. Her hand completely enveloped Yeoreum's tiny one, which was small even for a woman. Looking at it, I suddenly felt like a small animal captured by a predator.
……………
The yard already had the tools laid out. Hoe, trowel, watering can, shovel. I wondered when she'd prepared all this—it was impressive.
Kim Bom picked up the hoe. Then plunged it into the ground without a second thought.
Thud!Thud!Thud!
With heavy thumps, the hard soil was torn up. She swung it relentlessly, and soon the earth was soft and tilled.
Her strength is no joke...
She looked like a model—at least judging by her figure, especially those intimidating curves—but her hoeing was on par with a veteran farmer.
I figured I should help somehow and reached for the shovel. But Kim Bom quickly grabbed my hand.
"Yeoreum, you do this!"
What she handed me was... a tiny trowel. A cute tool the size of my palm. It looked like a toy for kids' play.
"For digging holes to plant the seeds. Like this."
She demonstrated. Gently scraping the soil with the trowel to make a small hole. About a finger joint deep.
"Space them a handspan apart. You can do that, right?"
"Yeah. That's easy enough..."
As I started troweling, Kim Bom went back to her work.
This feels like I'm not helping at all...
Because of Yeoreum's heart condition, sure, but I hadn't realized I'd be this helpless. It made me feel pathetic. A guy smaller than a woman, watching her haul heavy stuff while I poked kids' holes in the dirt.
No, don't dwell on the negativity. She's just being considerate.
Kim Bom was suggesting we do something together with my condition in mind, assigning me tasks I could handle. When someone shows that kind of generosity, feeling inferior is just rude.
Yeah, whatever. There's no law saying a guy can't do easy work. This is modern times. Thoughts like that aren't politically correct anyway.
About an hour later, the garden bed took shape. Three neat, square ridges with irrigation channels between them.
"Yeoreum, now we plant the seeds."
Kim Bom brought small packets. Each labeled with stickers: lettuce, cherry tomatoes, peppers, eggplant.
"Put two or three in each hole."
I dropped seeds into the holes I'd made. She lightly covered them with soil.
"Now just water them, and we're done! Great job."
I picked up the watering can. But it was heavier than expected, full of water. My arms shook the moment I lifted it.
Kim Bom smoothly took it from me.
"I'll do it!"
In the end, I just trailed after her, watching as she watered everything.
Ah... I really wasn't any help at all.
A bit of self-loathing crept in, but I decided it couldn't be helped. This truly was the limit. For Yeoreum's body.
……………
The work was done. Kim Bom and I sat side by side on the porch. She fanned us, creating a cool breeze that soothed the sweat.
"Good job!"
"You did all the work, Bom."
"Not true! You helped a ton—it finished way faster. And it was fun."
I doubted that. All I'd done was dig holes and drop seeds. But her expression was sincere. She really seemed to think I'd been helpful.
It was a languid afternoon. Warm sunlight, rustling breeze, earthy scent. Everything felt peaceful.
As I savored the quiet moment, our first meeting suddenly flashed in my mind. The bus stop, her grabbing me and shouting that one word.
[Dad!]
That's exactly what I'd heard. Her expression back then was vivid in my memory too. Eyes welling with tears yet joyful, like reuniting with long-lost family after years apart.
Why did she do that?
Honestly, I hadn't asked on purpose until now. Unless she brought it up first, prying felt rude. But now that we were this close... maybe it was okay to ask lightly?
"Um, Bom."
"Yes?"
She kept fanning as she replied.
"Just curious."
I tried to sound as casual as possible.
"When we first met, at the bus stop."
"...Yes."
"You called me 'Dad.' Why?"
The moment my words ended, the fanning stopped.
Kim Bom's hand froze mid-air. The fan, which had moved rhythmically, halted as if time itself had stopped.
The breeze that had been blowing until then, the chirping of birds, the distant barking of dogs—gone. As if someone had sealed away all sound.
Finally, Kim Bom slowly lifted her head to look at me. Her eyes stared straight into mine. Something deep and dark rippled within them.