I Became the Oriental Doctor for Divine Beasts - Chapter 118

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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I became a doctor of Eastern medicine for Divine Beasts.
#118
I disinfected Lee Ja-in’s wrists and legs with alcohol cotton as I explained.
“The acupoints where I’ll place the needles now will help with nerve function recovery and autonomic nervous system stabilization. They’re particularly useful for restoring peripheral nerve function and regulating pain transmission.”
“Ah… So needles can help nerve recovery too?”
“Of course, a single needling won’t completely heal damaged nerves. But I can create an environment where your nerves can recover.”
“I see. Thank you for the treatment.”
Waiguan, located on the outer side of the wrist.
Zusanli, positioned below the knee.
And Yanglingquan, tucked in the hollow beneath the ankle bone on the outer calf.
I’d deliberately chosen acupoints that would aid nerve recovery while avoiding direct needling of her injured hand.
Tap, whoosh—
The slender needle’s tip slipped smoothly through her skin.
Once I’d driven the needle to the precise depth within the muscle, I drew upon the Spiritual Energy I’d stored in my Miao Eye Stone.
‘Now, if I let my energy flow slowly through here…’
Whoosh—
Golden light seeped along the needle’s path.
The patient’s blocked Spiritual Energy began to flow freely again, bit by bit.
Hazy regions became clear, and depleted reserves began to fill in like a gentle tide.
“Wow, that’s amazing.”
A moment later.
Ja-in’s expression visibly eased.
“It’s strange—when I get needled, I feel sleepy. I actually forget my hand hurts while it’s happening.”
I smiled faintly and launched into explanation as I always did.
“That’s exactly what should happen. When you receive acupuncture, the parasympathetic nervous system activates and your tense body relaxes. In simple terms, your body accepts that it’s okay to rest now.”
Hearing that, Ja-in puffed out her cheeks as if trying to suppress a smile.
“Director… Are you perhaps a T personality?”
No, I’m actually an F. Did I really just sound that much like a T?
I scratched my cheek sheepishly.
“Ah, I suppose I do become a bit more T-like whenever Eastern medicine comes up.”
At that, Ja-in finally burst out laughing.
“Director, you’re usually so cool, but moments like these are so cute.”
“Oh dear… Did I talk too much?”
“No, no.”
Ja-in shook her head while laughing.
“It was really nice to see. Someone who loves what they do—that’s so cool.”
Yet in that very moment, a bitter light flickered across Ja-in’s eyes.
‘Hmm?’
That fleeting expression held something difficult to name—a wistful longing.
The look bothered me, but I didn’t ask about it.
‘We’ve only just met as patient and doctor, after all.’
After removing all the needles, I smiled.
“You did well with today’s treatment. Get plenty of rest, and I’ll see you next time.”
“Yes! Thank you, Director.”
I stepped into the corridor and quietly closed the hospital room door. Then I stared at the closed door with weary eyes.
‘What was that bitter expression just now?’
* * *
Time passed.
Fortunately, Lee Ja-in was gradually showing signs of improvement from my treatment.
‘When I observe her Spiritual Energy flow with Spirit Sight, it’s become far smoother than at first, and the patient’s symptoms are improving steadily.’
The frequency of pain flares had decreased, her hands and feet had grown warmer, and she was beginning to sleep more deeply at night.
Of course, we still had a long road ahead. Complex Regional Pain Syndrome wasn’t something easily cured.
Still, we were clearly moving in the right direction.
…or so I thought.
‘That’s strange.’
I tilted my head.
Her body was improving, yet Ja-in’s expression sometimes looked terribly lonely.
Last time, when she’d said “someone who loves their work is cool,” her expression had darkened for a moment.
And since then, there were times when she’d simply stare blankly out the window.
Meanwhile.
Her mother, her guardian, spent most of her days in the hospital room, but on certain days she’d be away for long stretches.
‘I wonder what’s going on?’
That question was answered soon enough.
A few days later, when I visited the room as usual.
I raised my hand to knock but stopped. Beyond the door, I heard two people arguing.
“Mom. Please just stop!”
Ja-in’s voice was far sharper than usual.
“I’m telling you to quit that cashier job.”
“Ja-in… But there are hospital bills, and when you go back to school, we’ll need so much more money… I’m fine…”
“No, I’ve told you how many times!”
Ja-in’s voice rose, trembling with tears.
“I’m not going back to university. I can’t! How am I supposed to go to school when I don’t know when a pain flare will hit me?!”
A moment of silence fell.
Her mother’s voice that followed tried to maintain composure, but wavered at the end.
“The doctors said you’re improving little by little. Director Go even said there’s hope for you to return to daily life…”
“Hope?”
Ja-in laughed bitterly.
“Say my hand actually does heal against all odds. In the time I’ve wasted away, my design skills will have withered, and there’ll be tons of other kids doing it way better than me. What chance would I have?”
“Ja-in…”
“Mom, please don’t say things like that anymore. I’m not dreaming of graduation or getting a job now.”
“…”
Ja-in exhaled shakily, still worked up.
Then she murmured helplessly.
“So… Mom. Let’s stop torturing ourselves with false hope.”
I slowly lowered the hand I’d raised to knock.
And stepping back from the door, I swallowed a pitying sigh.
‘Ah, so that’s what it was.’
Now everything made sense.
Her mother had been working part-time alongside caregiving for hospital bills, living expenses, and for the day her daughter might return to school.
What Ja-in wanted was for her mother to stop holding onto hope.
‘More precisely, she was afraid of hoping.’
Because if things didn’t return to how they were, the disappointment would be too great.
I slowly clenched my fists.
Suddenly, my mother’s words came to mind.
That true healing required always attending to both the patient’s body and heart.
‘…Mother.’
I murmured quietly to myself.
‘But what can I do for this patient now?’
I couldn’t provide the money Ja-in’s family needed.
And I couldn’t recklessly pour Spiritual Energy into her out of impatience. In fact, that might trigger a pain flare.
“…”
For a long time, I just stared out the hospital corridor window.
A bare branch was swaying in the autumn wind.
* * *

Weekend. Saelbit Orphanage.
Today I’d come here with Jo-mi to volunteer.
Mi-so was off disinfecting the scraped knee of a child who’d fallen recently.
I’d checked on all the children’s health and was now sitting on a bench, taking a brief rest.
In the courtyard, the children were running and laughing.
“Hey! Pass the ball to me!”
“Dong-soo, pass it!”
A soccer ball drew a crowd of children rushing after it.
At the center of it all was Lee Dong-soo.
Just months ago, this child had wept through nightmares every night; now his face flushed as he ran and laughed with his friends.
‘I’m truly grateful for that.’
Watching him, I couldn’t help but smile.
Though everyone had worried deeply when his parents never appeared, the boy had gotten through the autumn holiday well, I heard.
That was when.
“Director Go Yeon-hee.”
A gentle voice called to me.
I turned to see Seon Yo-han approaching.
“May I sit beside you?”
“Ah, Father.”
I quickly made room for him.
His kind eyes behind the round glasses were striking even today.
With his slightly tousled hair, he was the sort of person who made you feel at ease just being near.
“Dong-soo has improved so much.”
Seon Yo-han bowed respectfully toward me.
“It’s all thanks to you, Director.”
I waved my hand dismissively.
“No, it was possible because the orphanage staff cared for him so well.”
“But you were the one who treated his night terrors.”
He smiled softly.
“I think I’ll never forget it. The sight of you treating the child while sleeping in the orphanage duty room.”
I felt embarrassed and brushed back my hair for no reason.
“Haha… I suppose I do have a tendency to be a bit meddlesome with patients.”
At that, Seon Yo-han chuckled.
“I prefer to call it kindness, not meddlesomeness.”
A moment of silence passed between us.
Strangely, the quiet didn’t feel awkward.
The autumn breeze brushed gently past us.
“It really is ironic.”
Seon Yo-han then spoke quietly.
“That the world has people like you, yet there are parents who abandon their own children.”

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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