Returning to the Orphanage
"A massage parlor, huh... Better than I expected."
He'd already figured a women-only parlor would be the perfect place to cultivate his Bicheon-gong. What he hadn't counted on was the unexpected windfall of vitality piled up inside modern bodies — an environment where he could train the art and earn money at the same time. Until he fully mastered Bicheon-gong, working at a massage parlor looked like the best option he had.
"Good work, Suhyun. That was rough, huh? Here, some water."
"Thanks."
When Suhyun walked into the break room, Gwanghyun — who'd been folding towels — handed him a cup of ice water. Like Suhyun, he was a newly certified masseur as of yesterday. He still hadn't been requested by a single client, though, so he was stuck doing odd jobs.
Gwanghyun worked up the courage to ask.
"So... how was it?"
"How was what?"
"The massage. Today's the first time you've had a real client, not just practice. Weren't you nervous? You didn't mess up, did you?"
"Were you hoping I'd mess up?"
"No! Me? No way! I'd never— I was just asking because I haven't gotten a request yet. I absolutely, definitely didn't mean it like that."
"Haha, I get it, so don't overreact. Makes me look like the bad guy. You're the one who's been screwing up this whole time."
"Ugh... sorry."
"Anyway, it wasn't bad. This massage work. It's got a certain appeal."
"Really? Lucky you. I want to get requested already..."
Suhyun snorted a laugh at that.
Afterward he was requested several more times and headed out to give massages. Such was the power of a good-looking face.
By afternoon, young, pretty women like Assistant Manager Kim Miyoung had all but stopped coming in. But Suhyun was the type who considered a woman's age nothing more than a number. Sagging skin from getting older? He'd restore the elasticity with his chamber arts and proper care. Overweight? Even better — that much more vitality stored up. A few sessions of having their essence absorbed, and they'd transform into a figure without an ounce of spare fat.
"I'd like to book another appointment. When do you work?"
"Haaah, that was incredible. If I were just ten years younger..."
Once the massages were over, the clients fawned over Suhyun as if they'd fallen in love. He hadn't given anyone actual penetration the way he had with Assistant Manager Kim Miyoung. Direct insertion guaranteed maximum efficiency, but his Yang energy wasn't overflowing enough to have sex with every single client — that would be difficult even after fully mastering Bicheon-gong. And his hands alone were more than enough to leave the women satisfied.
"Good work today. Go on in and rest."
Time had slipped by, and it was time to clock out. L Massage Parlor ran twenty-four hours a day, so the person at the front desk changed with each shift. Days were usually handled by a male manager who looked like the boss of some unorthodox martial sect; nights belonged to Manager Hwa, with her bright, radiant smile. Suhyun and Gwanghyun clocked in at eight-thirty in the morning and got off at nine at night.
"Ah, Suhyun."
Manager Hwa caught him as he was heading up to the dormitory.
"Yes? Did you need something?"
"I just wanted to say you did well today. First day on the job and you've already got six reservations. I was honestly surprised."
Manager Hwa had taken Suhyun's last client of the day — and she'd taken that client's reservation as well. That was how she'd seen his booking status. As far as she remembered, today was his debut, and he already had six people booked. Was it the looks? No — even then, a handsome face only helped with the first request. Repeat visits required real skill with the hands.
"Is that so?"
"Yes. Keep it up like this. You'll be taking home a lot of performance bonuses."
"Understood."
After a quick shower in the dorm, Suhyun got dressed. Gwanghyun, who'd been watching him sideways, finally spoke up.
"You heading out...?"
"Gonna stop by home. Don't cause any trouble while I'm gone."
"W-what trouble would I even cause. Have a good trip... haha..."
Suhyun left the dormitory and headed for the subway station.
Modern streets he hadn't seen in forty years, and crowds of people everywhere. Looking at it all like this, a strange wave of feeling washed over him.
Let's see... to get to Suwon...
Scanning the transit map, Suhyun found Suwon on Line 1. He tried to dredge up the memory of how to actually ride the subway. The recollection was fuzzy — it'd be faster just to copy the people around him. He bought a single-ride transit card and boarded.
She's doing well, I hope. No — time hasn't passed, so of course she is.
The person Suhyun was going to see was the only family he had left. Sister Seong Sugyeong. The director of the orphanage where he'd grown up — the woman who had taken in a boy who'd become an orphan overnight and raised him with love. The thought of seeing the nun who was as good as a mother to him, after forty years, made his chest tremble.
In my last life, I was always so busy. Always had an excuse.
Before he'd gone to Murim, Suhyun had visited the orphanage maybe once a year. And even then, only on the holidays, and only when other kids from the same orphanage called him up and dragged him along. Otherwise he'd used being busy as an excuse and never showed his face.
I just didn't understand what was actually precious.
It was the mistake most people made — losing family and only then regretting it. But after forty years in Murim, Suhyun had finally learned what truly needed to be cherished.
"It's just the same."
On the bus from Suwon Station toward the orphanage, familiar scenery began to unfold. Landscapes near home he couldn't have forgotten even after forty years. Time had passed, and yet everything greeted him looking exactly as it had in his childhood.
"Chicken's pretty expensive, though."
He couldn't very well show up at the orphanage empty-handed — he ought to bring the kids a gift. So Suhyun stopped at the Korea Fried Chicken in front of the orphanage. KFC, for short. The chicken was more expensive than he'd expected. Eight pieces for twenty thousand won.
He couldn't remember the exact number of kids at the orphanage, but there had been around thirty. He checked his remaining balance through an app. Two hundred sixty thousand won left in the account. How had he ended up with so little money to his name...? He had no choice but to go with plan B.
"Forty popcorn chicken, to go, please."
Four bags packed tight with ten pieces each landed in Suhyun's hands. Heavy, too, with the drinks inside. This was training as well — why would he refuse it? Suhyun hiked up the orphanage hill with the bags in hand.
"Hey! It's Suhyun hyung!"
"No way! It's not even a holiday today?"
The moment he stepped through the front gate, the little kids playing in the small courtyard recognized him and called out.
Their names were... Myeongwoo, Chaeyeon, Jinyoung, I think.
The youngest kids at the orphanage. Suhyun called out to the one whose name he remembered most clearly.
"Myeongwoo! Can you tell the director I'm here? And tell the older kids I brought popcorn chicken. Come grab some of these bags."
"Popcorn chicken!? For real!? Yes! Dinner's popcorn chicken tonight!"
Life at the orphanage was never abundant. It hadn't been when Suhyun lived there, either. As a teenager, he'd wanted the KFC chicken from the shop that had opened in front of the orphanage so badly — but the orphanage's finances couldn't stretch to buying the kids fried chicken. That was why he'd brought popcorn chicken. Real chicken would have been better, but that could wait until he got his first paycheck.
"Suhyun?"
Myeongwoo's feet had been so fast that the director came out to greet him before Suhyun had even made it inside the building. He handed the bags off to the younger kids who'd come running for the popcorn chicken, then approached her.
Suhyun pulled Seong Sugyeong into a tight embrace. She seemed startled by the sudden gesture, but then she reached her own arms around him and held him close.
"Welcome home. Has it been hard?"
"Yes. It was really hard. But there were a lot of happy times, too. I missed you, Director."
Did she know something, saying it like that? Seong Sugyeong's words reached straight into his chest. Forty years. She couldn't possibly understand — and yet she healed his heart all the same.
"You talk like someone who's been far, far away. Anyway, come inside. It's still chilly out."
Patting him gently, Seong Sugyeong led him in. The kids nearby had long since vanished into the dining hall with the popcorn chicken. Dinner could wait a little.
"Coffee? Or green tea?"
Once they were in the director's office and she'd sat him down, Seong Sugyeong asked him nothing. Life brought all kinds of things — this and that. For kids from the orphanage — orphans, in other words — it happened even more often. She had always wanted Seongmo Orphanage to be a place the children could come back to, and sometimes, like this, kids like Suhyun did. So she didn't ask what had happened. She simply held them.
"Coffee, please."
Hearing his order, the director put water on to boil and tore open a packet of instant coffee mix.
"You said you were going to get a massage therapist license, didn't you?"
"Yes. I'm working as one now."
"That's wonderful. You always did have clever hands, even as a kid. Seems like a good fit."
Suhyun made small talk with Seong Sugyeong, and clicked his tongue at his past self. She was this happy just from him coming to visit and talking with her. What on earth had been so difficult about that?
"Yes. It suits me well, I think. Speaking of which — would you like a massage, Director?"
He wanted to put his skills to use. Seong Sugyeong was forty now, wasn't she? She'd been around twenty-five when he was nine. Fifteen years later, that would make her exactly forty. But she looked older than that. Running an orphanage alone as a woman wasn't easy. All that hardship had aged her beyond her years.
He would fix that.
"Oh my, really?"
Seong Sugyeong's face lit up with delight. She was endlessly grateful that her grown son had come home and was looking after her.
"Yes. Lie down here."
Suhyun stood and pointed to the sofa.
"I have to lie down?"
She looked briefly flustered. She'd never received a massage in her entire life. But Suhyun was as good as her own son. No mother would think anything strange of her son offering a massage.
She's in bad shape.
Suhyun's expression hardened. A body wrecked by years of hard labor — closer to a laborer's physique than a woman's. And the price of that long labor hadn't been cheap. Muscles throughout her body were knotted hard; her bones had weakened. Her vitality was slowly withering away. In a word, she was working herself into the grave.
She must have been in so much pain. And she never even showed it.
Seong Sugyeong was still wearing that gentle, loving smile. Thinking back, he'd never once seen her go to a hospital. She'd always just worked for the orphanage kids. Weekends didn't mean she skipped cooking meals, and problems never stopped arising. In other words, Seong Sugyeong had done grueling labor every single day without a day off. That was how the chronic damage had set into her body — years of overwork, to the point her body had simply adapted to the abuse.
The most urgent areas were her lower back, wrists, and forearms. Her neck, hips, and skin elasticity needed work too.
This is going to take a while.
If he'd had more internal energy, he could have healed her in a single session through Chugung-gwahyeol. But the internal energy in Suhyun's body right now was so meager it was embarrassing to even call it that. So he would pour in time and care. It might not happen in a single day — but over multiple sessions, Seong Sugyeong would recover fully.