Chapter 6

<Chapter 6 of "Mr. Cheon's Massage">

Reflecting back, his relationship with his father was never particularly good.

It wasn't that he had experienced domestic violence or wandered aimlessly during his teenage years.

It was simply that his father was busy late into the night, and Kang Tae-han prioritized other things over the rare sightings of his father.

They hardly saw each other's faces more than once or twice a day.

Over time, it became difficult to start a conversation, and naturally, their communication dwindled.

They only exchanged greetings occasionally, and that was the extent of their relationship.

"Truly... we were both so awkward."

Both myself and my father.

Back then, I couldn't understand my father.

No, I didn't even try to understand him.

Because I already knew.

The reason why my father became more reserved after my mother passed away.

The reason why he stayed at the shop late every night.

Yet, I avoided facing my father.

Because I had more urgent matters, and I thought I could talk to him later.

I believed that my father would always be there, waiting for me.

A mistake and a misconception that everyone realizes too late.

But the fortunate part is that Kang Tae-han could return after realizing this mistake.

When he could still go to see his father.

"This place has changed a bit."

Kang Tae-han muttered to himself as he looked around after getting off the bus.

The Daejeon Dong-gu complex terminal.

The scenery near his Seoul boarding house was just as he remembered, but here, he saw new signs that he had never seen before.

The reason was simple.

Even excluding the sixty years in Wulin, it had been a long time since he last visited Daejeon.

If his memory served him right, this was his first return since being discharged from the military.

'This café was supposed to never go out of business... Hmm? Did this shop also open in Daejeon?'

A path so familiar that he could walk it with his eyes closed.

However, he noticed the changes from his memory as he slowly walked along the road.

From the main road to a smaller street, and from there to an alley.

As he walked, an old signboard for a Chinese restaurant appeared.

Tae-han Banjeom.

There was no need to hide it.

The two characters on the signboard were taken from Kang Tae-han's own name. He stood there for a while, looking at the signboard, then slowly opened the door and entered.

"I'm here, Father."

"…You came."

Looking around, there was no one in the shop.

Only a short reply came from the kitchen.

Kang Tae-han walked into the kitchen.

"Have you eaten dinner?"

"No."

"Then eat first."

Kang Tae-han's father, Kang Ho-yeon, lit the stove and placed a pan on it.

* * *

He coated the pan with cooking oil and stir-fried pork.

When the meat was almost cooked, he added onions and stir-fried them together, seasoning with soy sauce and oyster sauce to enhance the aroma.

The savory smell of the stir-fried meat.

As the onions turned brown and released a sweet aroma, he added the remaining vegetables and the pre-stir-fried black bean sauce, stir-frying them until they were well-cooked.

The mouth-watering, savory, and sweet smell of the black bean sauce.

He continued to stir-fry until the vegetables were evenly coated and glossy, then poured the well-cooked sauce over the noodles to complete the dish.

"It's a dry black bean sauce, isn't it?"

"You like it, don't you?"

"…Yes, I do."

Kang Tae-han stared at the dry black bean sauce in front of him.

Despite spending a long time in Wulin, China, ironically, the food he missed the most was Chinese cuisine.

Especially this freshly stir-fried dry black bean sauce by his father.

He missed this dry black bean sauce so much.

Kang Tae-han silently mixed the sauce and picked up a large bite with his chopsticks.

The noodles, glossy and well-mixed.

His chopsticks quickly moved to his mouth.

"Does it taste good?"

"…Yes, it's delicious, Father."

"Good, I recently changed the black bean sauce."

Kang Ho-yeon said as he brought a dish of kimchi.

He silently watched his son eat, and Kang Tae-han quickly finished the bowl of dry black bean sauce.

"…Where have you been starving?"

"It's not that, but it's been a long time since I've had this."

"Is there no dry black bean sauce in Seoul?"

It was a dry black bean sauce he hadn't had in sixty years, but there was no way Kang Ho-yeon could know that, and Kang Tae-han couldn't explain it.

Kang Tae-han just smiled.

"Even if there are many Chinese restaurants in Seoul, none of them can match the freshly stir-fried dry black bean sauce from Father."

"…You've become quite the talker since you went to Seoul."

Kang Ho-yeon replied gruffly, but the corners of his mouth twitched slightly.

A subtle change that he wouldn't have noticed in the past, but the current Kang Tae-han could easily detect.

Was that all?

When he entered the shop, his father didn't even peek out, but Kang Tae-han knew that his father's face had brightened, and his mouth corners had twitched repeatedly while stir-frying the sauce.

'I should have come to see you sooner.'

Reflecting on the past, he thought he needed to achieve something significant before returning.

But why was that necessary?

Just by his son coming to visit, just by having a meal together, his father was so happy.

A slow smile spread across Kang Tae-han's face.

"So, why did you come here?"

"Nothing special. I just missed you, Father."

Kang Tae-han's unusual answer made Kang Ho-yeon's mouth corners twitch again.

This time, it was a clear reaction that anyone could notice.

"…You. Are you sick? Is something wrong?"

"No, why?"

"No… It's just strange. Even calling me 'Father' is strange."

"Calling you 'Father' is strange?"

"You always called me 'Dad.' You only called me 'Father' twice. When you came back on your first leave and when you returned to duty after your first leave."

"Was that… the case?"

Now that he thought about it, it seemed to be true.

Ha. Kang Tae-han couldn't help but laugh awkwardly.

It was the most awkward feeling he had had in decades.

"…If there's nothing wrong, that's good. I don't mind being called 'Father.'"

Kang Ho-yeon finished speaking and took a sip of water.

It was to hide his expression.

"How long are you staying?"

"I'm leaving early tomorrow morning. I have something to do."

"Then you'll stay the night, right?"

"Why? Don't you want me to?"

"I never said I didn't. In fact…"

Cough.

Kang Ho-yeon cleared his throat and swallowed his words, turning his head away.

Kang Tae-han's mouth corners twitched involuntarily at the sight.

"By the way, Father, can you turn your back to me?"

"Why your back?"

"Let me massage your shoulders like others do."

"Hehe, really… Are you not sick or something?"

Kang Ho-yeon slowly turned his back despite his words.

Kang Tae-han stood up and approached.

For a moment, a bitter expression appeared on his face.

'…Father.'

A body hardened by years of hard work in the kitchen.

A solid, muscular body with no trace of fat.

However, that was only the outward appearance.

Internally, his body was stiff and weak, with various parts hardened and losing vitality.

'Completely the opposite of what I saw in Seoul…'

If you don't move enough, your body can stagnate and lose vitality, but if you don't get the necessary rest, your vitality can gradually deplete and wither.

Kang Ho-yeon's condition was like dry firewood.

His body had adapted to the prolonged overuse, becoming stiff and rigid.

Outwardly solid, but internally dried out, it seemed to reflect his father's life.

Raising him alone and working silently.

'He used to make hand-pulled noodles himself.'

In his father's shop when he was young, the sound of hand-pulled noodles being stretched always echoed loudly.

People walking on the street would stop to listen, and the shop would be filled with customers.

'…When did the 'hand-pulled noodles' sign disappear from the signboard?'

It was probably after his right shoulder surgery.

His shoulder tendons were severely worn and could have snapped.

The surgery went well, but he never heard the sound of hand-pulled noodles being stretched again.

At the time, he didn't realize, but it must have had a significant impact on the shop's sales.

Without hand-pulled noodles, which were the shop's specialty.

'Father's sighs also became more frequent.'

But he continued to persevere.

Kang Tae-han placed his hand on Kang Ho-yeon's right shoulder.

The spot where he had surgery.

It looked fine on the outside, but the muscles on either side of the incision were slightly misaligned.

It wouldn't be a problem in daily life, but it could cause issues when suddenly applying force or lifting his arm.

'This level of misalignment would naturally heal over time…'

If he had taken proper rest during the recovery period and maintained a steady supply of vitality, the injury would have healed.

However, Kang Ho-yeon rarely took proper rest, and his body eventually stiffened, missing the recovery period.

The aftereffects remained.

'With this level of pain, he must have felt pain even when holding a frying pan with his right hand…'

Was he enduring the pain forcefully, or had he become so accustomed to it that the sensation had dulled?

Kang Tae-han felt a chill in his heart.

After all, the reason Kang Ho-yeon endured this pain was for Kang Tae-han, his own son.

"Ah, right. I remember you said you learned massage in your major?"

"…Yes."

"I'm glad I sent you to university. Now you can even massage my shoulders."

Hehe.

Kang Ho-yeon laughed casually.

Kang Tae-han smiled along with his father's laughter.

"I'll massage your shoulders more often, Father. I even have a certification."

"Wow, then your skills must be good."

"Of course. I'll be able to make hand-pulled noodles soon."

Kang Tae-han said with a smile.

His words were not an exaggeration.