My name is Kim Sanghoon. I’m 35 years old and a TV reporter.
Thanks to my diligent work ethic and willingness to take risks and endure hardships, I’ve managed to build up a decent fortune.
Over the years, this job has nearly gotten me killed more times than I can count.
I’ve gone undercover to secretly film illegal coal mines and brick kilns, and ventured deep into remote forests to document illegal logging.
But the most perilous moment was during my investigation into the rampant deforestation at the XXX Forestry Station.
The location was deep within an ancient forest, completely uninhabited for over a hundred miles.
Eventually, I was discovered by smugglers.
I had no choice but to flee alone through the wilderness for a hundred miles, narrowly escaping capture.
Had I been caught, I would have been killed and left in the depths of the forest, never to be found.
I wandered through the woods for three days and nights, lost, dehydrated, starved, and near collapse.
Fortunately, an old man gathering mushrooms and pine nuts found me.
Even now, the memory sends shivers down my spine.
But my salary and bonuses certainly weren’t meager, you could say they were earned with my life on the line.
The hard work paid off. I have a comfortable life now, and a beautiful wife.
Her name is Han Yumi. She’s 28, gentle as water.
Just like her name suggests, her looks, her grace, her personality, they sink right into a man’s heart.
Her job is much better than mine; she’s a middle school Chinese teacher and also does some student counseling on the side.
Her salary is a lot less than mine, but she’s still a white-collar professional.
She’s 168 cm tall with a slim figure. Thanks to her regular yoga practice, her body is incredible, curvy yet not provocative.
The way she walks, her movements, all refined and elegant.
The thing that really draws people’s eyes are her massive 32E breasts.
Full, but not freakishly huge, perfectly proportioned to her frame.
Her overall look reminds me of the Japanese AV idol, Miyu Kosaka.
On the street, she always draws a crowd. Most eyes, after glancing at her face, settle right on her breasts.
Since she’s a teacher and has an image to maintain, she dresses quite conservatively.
Even so, she gets a lot of attention from the hormone-raging teenage boys at her school.
Lots and lots of them slip anonymous love letters into her bag.
Kids that age, they don’t know any better. Whenever she tells me about it, we can’t help but laugh. Kids these days…
Yumi is quite conservative by nature. We met during a routine interview.
At the time, I was working on a documentary about teenagers, filming at her school.
That’s how we naturally got to know each other, grew close, fell in love, and eventually married.
I’m a full seven years older than her, but we clicked.
My circumstances weren’t bad back then either. We started as close friends and took it step by step.
We’ve been married for five years now. When we got married, she had just graduated and started teaching at that school.
She was only 23, and I was already thirty.
Because of her conservative upbringing, even though she had a few boyfriends in college, it never went past kissing and holding hands.
She saved her virginity for our wedding night.
Even while we were dating, she’d never stay out with me past 9:30 PM.
A minute later… and her parents, my now in-laws, would be calling her phone, demanding she come home immediately.
Thanks to that strict family upbringing, I got to be her first.
That’s something I’m pretty proud of, something I can brag about.
The surprising bonus? My wife is the kind of woman countless men dream of…
The classic lady in the streets, a freak in the sheets.
I was her first man, but she wasn’t my first woman.
On our wedding night, when I broke her hymen, she cried beneath me.
Seeing those spots of blood on the blanket we’d laid down, all I could do was repay her with deep kisses and intense lovemaking.
Who would’ve thought that after that first night, she opened up completely?
She was willing to try any position I suggested.
Blowjobs, doggy style, she was up for it all.
At first, she was clumsy, but under my gentle guidance, she became more and more skilled.
She let me enjoy every bit of her tenderness; in bed, she was so submissive that she’d basically do whatever I asked.
However, her moans remained conservative, she never screamed or talked dirty during sex.
Our only regret is that we still don’t have a child.
We went to the hospital for checkups, and the results showed that Yumi was perfectly fine.
The problem was with me. The tests said my sperm survival rate was low, too low to get a woman pregnant.
From that moment on, we sought help everywhere, Western medicine, Chinese medicine, Tibetan medicine, even folk remedies.
We tried everything, but nothing worked. It’s the one great regret of my life.
You can’t wrap fire in paper. The news that I’m infertile slowly got out.
Family, relatives, friends, colleagues… for a while, I was the talk of the town.
Although most people offered comfort, a small few mocked and looked down on me behind my back.
That period was full of torture and pressure.
Thankfully, Yumi was there to comfort me, stay by my side, and help me through the psychological trauma, helping me get back on my feet.
She never looked down on me, never left me, never treated me any differently.
That was my greatest comfort and my biggest motivation to keep living.
After that, I threw myself into my work.
Since then, I’ve thrown myself into my work. If I’m a useless man physically, I refuse to be a useless man in my career.
That’s why I work so hard and risk my life.
Yumi once suggested we try artificial insemination in secret. That would shut up all the gossip.
After all, who would know the child wasn’t mine?
But the thought of going to a hospital, spending a fortune, taking some random stranger’s sperm from a bank, and injecting it into Yumi’s womb…
Letting her get pregnant with some unknown man’s child…
The idea made my stomach churn. It felt like swallowing a fly.
So I’d rather bear the social pressure than let Yumi go to a hospital and have another man’s baby.
As for more “extreme” options like “borrowing a seed” (natural insemination from a third party), I found that even more unacceptable.
If I won’t even allow proper medical insemination, how could I ever consider that?
So we still have no children.
Because my work requires frequent travel, Yumi is home alone most of the time.
While out on assignments, colleagues inevitably tease me: “Aren’t you worried, leaving such a beautiful wife home alone?”
I just laugh off these jokes. I trust my wife.
It’s not just that I know her character. It’s also my professional instincts.
As a veteran reporter who specializes in undercover work, my skills in observation, quick thinking, and judgment are no weaker than a detective’s.
Plus, I’m proficient in various surveillance and hidden cameras. So everything is well within my control.
I’m not ashamed to admit it. Right after I found out about my illness, perhaps due to psychological trauma, I became overly suspicious.
For a period, I did monitor and surveil my wife… wiretapping her phone, installing hidden cameras at home.
But Yumi never showed the slightest hint of anything unusual.
Even though many men hit on her and flirted with her, she always firmly rejected them, sometimes even getting angry.
Gradually, I became more at ease and trusted Yumi completely.
However, there is another lingering regret.
Maybe it’s a psychological issue. After learning about my condition, every time we finished having sex, watching my thick semen seep out of my wife’s pussy, a voice in my head would say:
Is this even real semen? It looks like it, but there aren’t enough sperm in there. It’s useless, incapable of impregnating a woman. It’s just an empty shell.
This shadow and inner conflict kept tormenting me.
As a result, my sexual function has declined significantly.
Sometimes I came too early. Sometimes I went soft in the middle.
I went to the hospital, and the doctor told me it was psychological erectile dysfunction and premature ejaculation, not physical.
There’s no medicine for it; it can only be fixed through psychological adjustment.
During that time, my life hit rock bottom.
You see, when we first married, I could go five times in one night with Yumi, leaving her so sore she couldn’t get out of bed the next day.
And now… I can only numb myself through relentless work, trying to steady my mind.
My wife tried everything in bed to help me, even resorting to sexy lingerie and other tactics, but the results remained minimal.
Countless nights, I caught Yumi secretly fingering herself to get off. But she never showed any sign or intention of cheating.
That was my greatest comfort… and my deepest guilt toward her.
What I never expected was that this illness would inadvertently trigger changes in my personality and mindset.
Changes I only came to realize later. But that’s a story for another time.
It seemed like everything would just continue like this…
Until I volunteered to go to a war-torn country in Africa as a war correspondent.
This unique assignment, this extraordinary journey, would completely transform my life and my family…
