Private Audience
I pulled my mouth from her nipple and looked into her face as I spoke.
"So… what does me being nestled in women's arms have to do with the work of deifying me?"
Myeongsuk smiled as she gazed at me.
"I've arranged a meeting with Ryu Minhwa for tomorrow. Meet with the Seongyodan people one by one. Then you'll understand."
Having finished speaking, Myeongsuk began moving her hips in earnest. Knowing by now exactly what her insides felt like, I was braced for it; and having spent so much time lately in deep, messy relations with Jeongmi and Yunchae, I no longer came as quickly as I once had. Even so, her Bangjungsul remained extraordinary, and my resistance did not last long.
I came inside her without her leave, and Myeongsuk held me tightly. Rising carefully from my body, she fetched a towel from the bathroom and wiped my cock with devoted care. As she cleaned me, she spoke.
"I don't have sex with my husband anymore. The last time was when I was with you, Jisin."
I looked at her with an expression that asked why she was telling me this. When she had finished wiping every part of me, she checked her watch and said,
"I should go. Ryu Minhwa will come tomorrow. I have business and won't be able to make it, so I'll leave word with Jeongmi instead."
I spoke to her as she rose.
"Right… you said Jeongmi was your niece, didn't you? How on earth…"
Myeongsuk put on that foolish smile again.
"I'll tell you that story another time, if the chance comes. Or perhaps I never will."
She bid me farewell and left the room. Something about her mood today had been strange. She had entered this room one way and left it another. And that foolish smile—I had not seen it since our first meeting at Yunchae's house. It left me with an odd feeling.
The next morning, Jeongmi and Yunchae chattered away in my room while I whiled away the hours at the computer. The three of us ate together and talked, passing the time. The two of them still lived naked in my room; I wore only a robe. When the late afternoon arrived, Jeongmi shot Yunchae a look and whispered something in her ear, and the two of them left the room without a word to me.
A short while later, Jeongmi announced over the intercom that Ryu Minhwa had arrived. I stopped the game I was playing and prepared to receive my guest. For a moment I considered putting on underwear in case crossing my legs might expose me, but I couldn't be bothered and left things as they were. A knock sounded, and the door opened—but it was neither Yunchae nor Ryu Minhwa who entered. It was Jeongmi. She hurried over and held out a black paper box.
"What's this?"
Jeongmi's face was serious.
"You might need it."
That was all she said before she hurried out again. The black box was long and flat, like a wristwatch case. I cracked it open. Inside lay a leather choker identical to the ones Yunchae and Jeongmi wore. I had a faint sense of why Jeongmi had given it to me, but I could not imagine a situation in which I would put one on a perfectly ordinary member of the Seongyodan. She's overthinking it, I decided, and set the box aside.
Another knock came, and Ryu Minhwa entered. She was naked, just as before, covering her breasts and sex with her hands as she came in. She greeted me, then took the chair in front of me. I looked straight at her face. She was, without question, a beauty—not merely pretty, but a woman who carried an air of refined elegance. She avoided my gaze and lowered her head.
"I hear you've been working hard at missionary activities lately. And the results have been excellent."
A smile touched the corners of her mouth as she bowed her head.
"Thank you."
Hearing her voice, I felt a warmth settle over me. I smiled faintly and said,
"I'm the one who should be thanking you."
Her head snapped up.
"That isn't—"
I let the smile fall away and simply looked at her. Minhwa wore an awkward expression as she spoke.
"Thank you for granting me this private audience."
I wondered what this was about, but held my tongue on the chance it might matter. Minhwa lowered her head again. Then, in a voice that barely made it out, she said,
"I do a great deal of social activity. Deliberately. I meet a lot of people, take on leadership roles in gatherings myself. There are always crowds around me."
Huh? Why is she suddenly telling me this? I listened in silence.
"Ever since I was little, I've liked having people gather around me. It was familiar, too. My mother's influence wasn't small. She always told me I had to be someone others envied. Even after I grew up and married, that compulsion never left me."
She looked exactly like that sort of woman—elegant, as though she inhabited a world entirely different from mine. At a glance she seemed to have grown up in considerable wealth, educated well and without hardship.
"Listening to your words at the gatherings, Jisin, I realized how unhappy I had been while living as though I were the best. I realized I had always had to be first, always had to be something people envied—and that I had spent my life racing after the world under that compulsion. My body was always exhausted, and there was no empty space left in my heart at all."
Minhwa quietly let her hands fall from her chest. Her pretty, full breasts came into view. I swallowed dryly without meaning to.
"I wanted you to hear my story, Jisin—not the words you give the other believers, but something just for me—and to speak to me in turn. So I asked Seonja Go many times, but she made it sound nearly impossible. Of course. How presumptuous of me… I had assumed that if I wanted to meet even the cult leader, I could do so whenever I pleased. Realizing I was wrong became another chance to look back on the twisted way I had lived."
Hmm… the story was taking a peculiar turn.
"So I went back to Seonja Go and asked her to tell me what I could do. That was when she mentioned the Seongyodan. She said if I did a great deal for the order, how could you possibly ignore me? So I worked myself hard. I did everything I could, and I still do. Of course I want to spread the teachings of Cheonsiman-gyo far and wide—but more than that, I wanted to hear words meant only for me, not the ones you give everyone from your side."
Minhwa paused, then spoke with extreme care.
"If I weren't a woman with a husband and a child, I would want to spend every hour of every day at your side, the way the Jiseonnyeo do."
Ah… so that was it. What Myeongsuk had meant. And without my knowing, Yunchae and Jeongmi had been put on display before the believers. All of it had been Myeongsuk's calculated scheme—to make people thirst for missionary work and donations. Attendance at our gatherings had indeed grown a great deal lately, and the number of names entered in the register had risen sharply. It was not simply the preaching of doctrine; there had been this kind of seduction as well.
Since nothing illegal had been done, I felt no urge to condemn Myeongsuk. But I now understood what ordinary people imagined of my private space, and I could finally grasp a little of what Myeongsuk had been saying all along. Which meant the time had come to reward those who had struggled so hard to enter that space.
I rose from my seat and walked slowly to Minhwa's side. She looked up at me with tense eyes. I gently took her hand. I could feel it trembling faintly.
"Yes. On behalf of Cheonsiman-gyo, I want to offer you my thanks. And if I can be of any help to someone who has worked so hard, I would like that very much."
Minhwa looked up at me, the words slipping from her lips.
"Jisin…"
Still holding her hand, I drew her toward the bed. I seated her on the edge and sat down beside her.
"Yes. This evening, tell me whatever you wish to say. I will listen to everything, and I will give you words that may be of help."
A look of quiet emotion crossed Minhwa's face. The beginning of any conversation is discovering what the other person wants. I pricked up my ears and prepared to listen. Minhwa began her story. In the end, it amounted to this: she had always believed herself the best at everything, and then one day she looked back and found it all rather empty. Ninety-nine percent of women think something of the sort. She was still young for menopause, but the stress she had carried from her reference group all those years must have been crushing. There seemed to be stress as well over the fact that she was passing that same pressure straight on to her own child.