I didn't know anything about Korean culture back then, and i only had a small paragraph as guidance. Sorry if its inaccurate in some parts. But hope you guys enjoy it though...sorry that this is a long read...

Song Min-Sung:
I was born in September of 1375. Ever since 1425, I forgot my birthday, the day I was born. I remember a lot though, surprisingly. I recall the fact that my family worked in Korea as peasants, tending rice paddies. We didn’t have the name Song then. When I was born, they named me Min-Sung. I also had a younger sister who was born in 1377. Her name was Eun-Seong. Both of us were born during the time Mongol invasions conquered Korea and whatever we have gained, we have lost. Mongols were harsh with my family. They killed a lot of males, but because I was a child at the time, I was spared. My father died from the wounds, fighting Mongols.

It was up to my mother to raise both my sister and I. My sister and I worked a lot during our early years. Ever since I turned four in 1379, and my sister was two, we had to work for the Mongols a lot. I did a lot of odd jobs for them. I only had one that was important; feeding the horses.

I was scared of the horses, even in 1385 when I was ten. Although I was a tall and slightly gangly fellow, horses scared me. Each time their hooves flew up, I would duck and cover the back of my head with my thin arms.

None of us dared to rebel against them. It was when I was twelve in 1387, did I start to explore the differences between males and females. What made us so different, I wondered? I didn’t answer nor ask the questions.

Besides my sister, I rarely saw other girls. But I did meet one, a seventeen-year-old girl by the name of Kouang, a Mongolian. She was a relative of Genghis Khan. I can’t remember her specific lineage. All I recall is that she was always nice to me, often bringing me small treats and giving me water. Since she was related to the conqueror, I suppose she could get away with anything.

She was beautiful though, as I recall. Very dark golden skin, narrow laughing eyes of light brown and rough black hair that was windblown.
I was surprised to learn that she also liked me. But I could never marry her, although I wanted to do that. Both of us were simple minded, only here to survive, but, even to this day, I still believe there was love between us.
We had known one another since 1383, when I was eight. I recall when I turned twelve, I asked her about the mating rituals of horses during spring that I saw them doing.

I wasn’t close to my mother, and I found my sister a pest.

It was an autumn day I remember, after my chore of giving food to horses then cleaning up their feces afterwards. I was standing beside the bamboo fence so horses won’t run away, wiping my sweat away when Kouang came up to me. “Hey,” she greeted me in Korean. She knew both Mongolian and Korean. I knew only Korean.

“Hi, what are the horses doing each spring?” I asked. I always see them, but I could never understand it. Kouang raised her eyebrow up.

“Why do you want to know?” She asked me.

“I’m just curious,” I responded. She looked at me in a new way, and I did too look at her in a new way.

She showed me the horses’ mating season, and then told me humans do it too. It was all right I suppose for my first time. I was twelve and she was seventeen.

Afterwards, I recall walking home in a daze, almost. My mother was out in the fields, my sister, Eun-Seong, was making a meal, rice. She cooked it in a small pot over a little fire. I watched as she swiftly threw water on the fire so it wouldn’t spread.

Despite my sister being ten, and a pest, I always considered her to be insightful. The day was beautiful, heated but beautiful. “Did you like it?” She asked me.

“Like what?” I asked.

“Her.”

“Her who?”

“Kouang.”

I shrugged. “Why don’t you go and make me rice?”

“I don’t have to listen to you,” Eun-Seong was defiant. She handed me a small bowl and two bamboo sticks with anger.

“You have to.” I pointed out to her. “I’m your older brother and you’re my younger sister. By all means you do.”

She stuck her tongue out at then left outside, probably to help mom out, I reasoned. I didn’t think much of what Kouang showed me until a year later, when I turned thirteen years of age. It was 1388 at the time, and the day was broiling hot. I wiped sweat from my forehead, wondering where Kouang could be. Ever since she taught me the mysteries of mating, I didn’t see her. I knew where Kouang lived, but I was frightened to go into a Mongolian camp.

But unfortunately I had to do that. I stopped a Mongolian woman on the way to check how rice paddies were doing and inquired after Kouang. At the mention of Kouang, the woman’s face fell and she looked heartbroken.
“I’m sorry to say she died seven suns ago.”

I looked shock. No way could Kouang have died. “Why?” I inquired.

“You’re Min-Sung, no?”

“Yes.” I replied.

The woman simply walked away. I followed her, trying to catch up. “What happened?” I finally asked, breathing loudly.

“Childbirth.” The woman replied.

I didn’t ask anything. All I knew was it was mine fault that Kouang has died. “Mine kid,” I said loudly. The woman turned around and nodded her head.

I walked over to the encampment and after some inquiries, I found my newborn daughter. I asked the leaders what was her name. They replied it was a Korean name but refused to tell me. I named her Kyung-Min.

I walked back to where I lived, my sister probably cooking more rice and mother already back from working at the rice paddies, Kyung-Min feeling awkward in my arms. Without a word, when my mom looked up and saw me with my daughter, she looked very shocked. “Who’s this?” She asked me. I blushed.

“Kyung-Min.” I replied.

Her eyes narrowed even more as she took the baby from my arms. “Who’s the mother?” was all she asked as she held her tightly, and motioned for my sister to fetch some cow’s milk from the Mongolian encampment.
“Why are you implying she’s mine daughter?”

The eyes narrowed even more, and she looked angry. “I knew she was. Why else would you be holding her? Who is the mother, Min-Sung?”

My head bowed down, my eyes darkened. “Kouang.” I replied.

“Why isn’t she taking care of your daughter?” Mother demanded angrily.
I sat down and picked at the rice Eun-Seong prepared. Finally I looked up. “She died.”

“I see.” Mother replied. Eun-Seong came back with wooden plate filled with milk. She carefully held Kyung-Min in her one arm, Kyung-Min lying comfortably in the crook of my sister’s elbow, and then she poured the milk down Kyung-Min’s thirsty throat.

“Who’s she?” Eun-Seong finally asked as she gently put down the baby.
“Your brother’s daughter.” Eun-Seong looked at me with shock.

“Wow,” was all she said. “She’s tiny.”

I didn’t feel proud in that moment with my mother and my sister at that time and that moment. All I did was look at my tiny baby girl. Deep inside, somehow, I knew that she would be my only link to continuation of my family.
I couldn’t explain that prophetic feeling at all. It seemed to come out of nowhere, yet with it, still carry heavy weight.

Until 1392, I, along with my sister and my mother raised my daughter. She grew up to be beautiful, although unusually active. Her skin color was dark golden cinnamon shade, her eyes a beautiful brown color that changed from light to dark depending on her mood and her hair was thick and black, very similar to Kouang’s hair rather than mine.

She was four years old and I was really seventeen. It was sunset, a beautiful sun coming down from the sky, illuminating the whole land of Korea as my tiny angel ran, laughing. She wanted to climb a tree. I didn’t want her to. “We should get back to Aunt Eun-Seong,” I pleaded with her.

“Just one tree papa,” she begged me, her tiny eyes sad and pleading. I couldn’t resist her charms; no one else in my family could either.

I gave in. Ever since Kouang died, I refused to find another girl. Kyung-Min was enough for me. I love her, still do to this day. Kyung-Min smiled widely and jumped on a palm tree to get a hold of the bark as she hoisted herself up. I watched her carefully. She came down sooner than I expected, and when I saw her, she looked frightened. “What is it?” I asked.

“I saw big white eyes,” she whispered. It was obvious that she was scared. I wrapped her tightly in my arms, picked her up and we finally exited out of the forest to where Eun-Seong and mother were already eating rice.

I didn’t say anything, just sat down beside my family and together we ate rice. The silence continued on, we didn’t talk; there wasn’t a point in talking about anything since it always seems to be the same thing.

The night passed on, and day came in. It was in early afternoon when a strange woman approached me. I was working, sorting out rice paddies along with Kyung-Min and my mother when a weird pale woman came up to me. She looked Korean, but yet, deep inside, I knew she wasn’t. “Hi.” She greeted me. Her skin was very pale, almost to the point of being a silver moon, her eyes narrow and the whites were deep blood red.

“Yes?” I asked politely.

Oddly enough, I fell in love with her at first sight. “I saw you and that little girl together yesterday. I wonder of her relation to you.”

“She’s my daughter,” I replied. “Who are you?”

“Soo-Yun,” the woman replied.

“You’re Korean.” She smiled widely.

“Yes. I am wondering if it would be possible for you to take a walk with me tonight.”

“I could,” I replied. I decided not to bring my daughter. Despite my sudden love for Soo-Yun, something didn’t feel right. I didn’t know what but it was something that should’ve been obvious to me. I couldn’t recall the memory. All I felt was my love for Soo-Yun.

When I came outside, in the late afternoon, I found Soo-Yun waiting for me. “Ready?” She asked me. I nodded my head. I couldn’t wait for the night to begin.

The whole evening felt heady and breathless as we went into the forest, and without preamble, as if we both knew it was inevitable, we ended up having sex. It was my second time. Next thing I remember was falling asleep as if the effort itself has drained me of all my energy.

I awoke the next day at evening, my head buzzing, on the cold earth. I shook myself off and headed home.

My mom was home, looking extremely pale. “Hi,” I greet her lazily, stumbling and half falling. She takes one look at me, but the worried look hasn’t gone from her face.

“Have you seen Eun-Seong?” She asks me.

“No,” I reply.

“Where have you been?”

“In the forest.”

“Look for Eun-Seong, I’ll look after Kyung-Min.”

“Mother?”

“Just go, please.” Despite the extreme outer control my mom has, I could tell that she’s somehow shaken up on the inside, but she’ll never admit it.

I looked for Eun-Seong all over where we lived, but none of the people had seen her. I returned to tell mother of the grim news. She had one good look at me, sighed, and then returned to eating rice. Kyung-Min was sitting beside mother, her face scared. “Kyung-Min?” I inquired gently. She turned her head towards me.

“I saw white eyes.” She said, obviously frightened. “I’m sorry.” She started to cry.

I frowned. “You didn’t do anything darling.”

“I told Aunt Eun-Seong!” Kyung-Min screeched. She stood up and ran inside the bamboo house, falling asleep. I wanted to go over and comfort her.
“Mom,” I began. She nodded her head.

“Go find your sister. If I have to, I’ll protect Kyung-Min.” I didn’t respond, just stood still.

“I looked everywhere for her.” I reminded mother. She just stared at me, not saying a word. I didn’t know how to respond to her stares. All I did was feel sad. I didn’t know why. Maybe it was because of my sister’s unexpected absence.

Without saying a word, however, I went back to bed. We found my sister next morning in the forest, lying on the ground, whiter than pearls; two tiny punctures within her beautiful neck. I gagged and ran to throw up. My mother, at the sight of my sister’s body, began to cry loudly. I didn’t let Kyung-Min near the body that once possessed the soul of my sister. I held her tightly, and in no certain words, told her that Eun-Seong has passed away. Kyung-Min didn’t understand. She kept asking if Eun-Seong would return. I shook my head no. Eun-Seong is gone forever.

I vowed revenge against whoever dared to kill my sister. When Soo-Yun approached my house this late afternoon, everything flew out of my head. I came with her into the forest; we started undressing as we had the first time. She began asking me questions. Did I want to be like her, did I love her, did I want immortality? I was so drunk on her love that I answered everything yes. Nothing happened afterwards, we went home.

I walked her home that is, and when I came into mine house, I saw a dead body I didn’t want to see; that of my mother. I was scared. I didn’t want for my daughter to be killed, too. I woke her up and together we walked out when all of a sudden a monster of some type ripped my daughter away from me. I was startled and looked around for my attacker when I spotted Soo-Yun, holding my daughter in her arms. “Soo-Yun!” I cried out. “Let her go!”

She came nearer to the full moon, her face red all over, and her hands bloody. It was blood on her face, and here was this monster that I thought was my love, holding my daughter tightly. All of a sudden, something inside of me refused to be part of her spell anymore. I fell down on my knees, feeling defeated. “Why should I?” The snake voice asked me.

“She’s a little girl, she has done no harm.”

“Not good enough.” Kyung-Min was squirming in Soo-Yun’s arms, whimpering. I didn’t know what to reply.

“I’ll do anything if you let her go, if you let my baby live.”

That seemed to please Soo-Yun as she released Kyung-Min who was in tears. She was four, still small and innocent. She didn’t say anything, didn’t even scream. All she did was huddle and crying, being a brave little angel. The monster came up to me, opening her mouth where I could see sharp fangs. All of a sudden, I wondered if she would kill me just as she had killed my sister and my mother. “It’s a deal,” Soo-Yun replied. “I will make you like I am. You will be immortal, sterile, and you’ll never age, but you’ll drink blood.” The thought of being what she is, disgusted me, but I knew if I’d end up being dead, then Soo-Yun will kill my daughter.

“All right,” I shuddered. I thought I felt moisture going down my cheeks, leaving traces of salty residue. I knew what they were, tears. Tears at the lost humanity, at the lost life, of never being able to see my daughter grow up and have more children.

That night when I found out about Kyung-Min came into startling clarity, I recall feeling that she would be my only link to descendants. I ordered her to run, to go with a family to take care of. I also told her how much I loved her. She ran away, bless her heart. She never saw me change into the monster I became.

__________________
Once you go Asian, you'll never go caucasian

Very sweet little story.