The night view of JianghaiCity is like a dazzling and colorful painting. The windows of the tallbuildings twinkle like stars fallen to earth, while the streetlights weavetogether into flowing ribbons of light. The hurried steps of pedestrians formthe city's ceaseless pulse of life. The brilliant neon lights add a touch offantasy to the cityscape, and each street lamp stands as a guardian of life,guiding everyone on their way home.
A corner of Jianghai City。
An ancient building is nestled between bustling streets, housing a massage parlor called "Warm Home." Passing through the wooden corridor, a fresh fragrance wafts towards you, like a gentle breeze soothing the soul.
Entering the massage room, you find it simple yet elegant. A delicate painting hangs on the pristine white wall, and a tall, slender vase holds a single carnation, its subtle fragrance permeating the air. A small potted plant sits in a corner of the room, adding a touch of vitality to the space.
A gentle breeze enters through the window, causing the curtains to sway softly, bringing a sense of freshness and comfort. The tranquil and beautiful night outside the window contrasts with the soft music floating from a corner of the room, its melodious tune falling like a light rain deep into the heart.
In the center of the room lies a massage bed. It's not large, but it is very soft, covered with a clean white sheet and a fluffy blanket.
On the massage bed lies a person, their back muscles tight and well-defined, exuding health and strength. The masseur's hands, though not large, with thick fingers and solid palms, work on the client's back, kneading along the spine from the shoulders to the waist in a rhythmic, dough-kneading motion.
Massage involves a series of techniques such as pushing, kneading, rolling, and grabbing with hands or elbows on specific parts of the body. The goal is to relax and soothe, alleviate pain, and, under a doctor's guidance with some medications, it can even better treat certain conditions.
At this moment, the masseur is a young man with a fresh face, Luo Qingchen.
"Ah, right there, it's so sore, a bit more pressure," says the man lying on the massage bed, his voice deep and muffled through the bed's ventilation hole.
Luo Qingchen responds with a clear, crisp smile, "Alright, Brother Feng."
Brother Feng, whose real name is Zhang Feng, is a fitness coach at a nearby gym. His favorite pastime, aside from teaching exercise, is to visit "Warm Home" for a full-body massage in the evenings. Warm Home employs over twenty masseurs, both male and female, ranging from young novices like Luo Qingchen to seasoned experts with over a decade of experience. Zhang Feng's reason for choosing this place is Luo Qingchen.
Luo Qingchen shifts from one hand to both, stacking his palms and applying pressure downwards with the weight of his body, focusing on the area Zhang Feng finds particularly sore.
"Mom, it's so sour, oh, oh, I can't take it anymore." Zhang Feng, with furrowed brows, gripped the pristine white sheets tightly, gritting his teeth and howling in discomfort.
Seeing Zhang Feng clenching the sheets tightly, his arms trembling slightly, the veins in his biceps almost about to burst, Luo Qingchen slowly eased the pressure.
"Don't stop, I can still endure it. If I really can't take it, I'll pat the bed."
Upon hearing Zhang Feng's words, Luo Qingchen, who had just lightened the pressure, applied it once again.
In the cozy massage room, there floated a chorus of alternating cries, akin to the wails of ghosts and howls of wolves. These were not cries of agony but rather melodic chants of relief.
After a while, Luo Qingchen completed a standard massage routine. Zhang Feng turned over, lying on the massage bed, a sense of post-disaster relief washing over him: "That was amazing, so damn amazing."
Luo Qingchen walked to the corner, picked up the teapot on the table, poured a cup of floral tea, and the fragrance of the tea filled the entire massage room. Holding the cup of tea, Luo Qingchen approached Zhang Feng and said, "Feng Ge, have a cup of tea first."
Zhang Feng propped himself up with his elbow, took a big sip of the floral tea, and said, "Qingchen, let me tell you, you have no idea how comfortable your massage is. It's a strange feeling, a mix of soreness and stimulation, with resistance in the stimulation, danger in the resistance, pain in the danger, and endless satisfaction in the pain."
Luo Qingchen poured himself a cup of tea as well, took a sip, and smiled, "What exactly does it feel like?"
"It's hard to describe, but it's just incredibly comfortable. Unfortunately, you can't experience it yourself."
"As long as you're satisfied, Feng Ge."
"Of course, besides you, no one else can give me this kind of experience. Either the pressure is not enough or the acupoints are not right. Anyway, whenever I need a massage, you're the best choice."
After finishing the tea, Zhang Feng put on his shoes, stretched his body, and said, "I feel so much more relaxed now, the fatigue is gone. I'll sleep well tonight. Alright, I'm off. I'll come back in a couple of days."
Luo Qingchen opened the door, saw Zhang Feng off from the cozy home, returned to the massage room, changed into clean clothes, cleaned up, and realized it was already late at night. "Time to close for the day."
After signing off at the front desk, Luo Qingchen left the cozy home.
Walking alone in the quiet alley late at night, the silence of the night and the light from neighboring stars, Luo Qingchen reminisces about his past.
Luo Qingchen's surname is not Luo; the character Luo follows his master's surname, as he was raised single-handedly by his master.
When Luo Qingchen was still an infant, he was found by his master in the deep mountains. In order to enable Luo Qingchen to read and write, his master took him away from the mountain village where they had lived for many years and came to the city.
Master Luo was skilled in massage and made a living in the city by practicing this profession. He and Luo Qingchen lived in a small rented house in a secluded corner of the city. Master Luo worked daily, massaging clients to earn money for Luo Qingchen's education.
Besides attending school, Luo Qingchen helped his master with massages, thus acquiring a fine skill in the craft himself.
At the age of 15, Luo Qingchen's master, advanced in years and ill, passed away. In his final moments, he entrusted Luo Qingchen with his most treasured possession: a scroll made from the skin of an unknown animal. According to Master Luo's last words, it was a cultivation technique, and he urged Luo Qingchen to diligently practice it, hoping that one day he would unravel its secrets.
The "Spirit Seed" cultivation technique allows one to peer into the inner world of sentient beings, observe their spiritual essence, steal their cultivation level, listen to their thoughts, and refine their spirit.
After receiving his master's legacy, Luo Qingchen discovered that the massage techniques he had been learning from his master were actually part of this "Spirit Seed" cultivation method. It was then that Luo Qingchen understood why his master was so strict about the massage techniques.
Following his master's departure, Luo Qingchen left school to focus on mastering the "Spirit Seed" technique and embarked on a professional path in massage therapy. He spent five years as a masseur at the "Warm Home Massage Parlor," never allowing himself to slack off. He massaged clients daily, and his technique became extremely proficient, offering a unique experience to his customers. However, as for the abilities mentioned in the cultivation method, Luo Qingchen had not experienced any of them.
