As soon as basketball practice ended, Coach Kang Cheol-gyu rushed home.
Seeing Kim I-jin’s remarkable recovery had reminded him of someone he desperately wanted to help.
That person was Yoo Min-ha.
His wife.
“Honey, I’m home.”
“You’re early.”
The woman Kang Cheol-gyu loved more than anyone in the world greeted him with sleepy eyes, still dressed in her pajamas.
“I wanted to see you as soon as possible, so I came straight home after work!”
“Shh. Se-young’s sleeping. Keep your voice down.”
“Oops. Sorry, sorry.”
“I haven’t made dinner yet, so sit down and rest for a bit.”
Min-ha subtly avoided his gaze, as though she were worried about what he thought of her.
There was no need.
Cheol-gyu knew perfectly well that taking care of a toddler who was nearly two years old wasn't easy.
And Min-ha wasn't healthy—neither physically nor emotionally.
She seemed fine now, but just last week she'd been bedridden, groaning in pain.
Since their marriage, he'd already carried her to the emergency room twice in the middle of the night.
“Forget dinner. Let's eat out tonight. Mom said she'll watch Se-young.”
“Really?”
Min-ha's face immediately brightened.
She must have been feeling cooped up after spending all day at home.
“We've got some time before dinner, so let's stop by a clinic first. Go get changed.”
“A clinic? Why all of a sudden...? Did you sprain your ankle? Oh, right. You said your back was still stiff. Sorry, I forgot. You go ahead and get treated. I'll get ready, drop Se-young off, and meet you there.”
“No, no. It's not just for me. I found a really skilled practitioner. I was thinking maybe you could get some herbal medicine too.”
“Me?”
Min-ha tilted her head in confusion.
“There's nothing wrong with me. Why don't you get something for your mother instead?”
“What do you mean nothing's wrong? You're pale even now. If your menstrual pain eased up even a little, you'd have so much more energy.”
The moment he mentioned menstrual pain, Min-ha's expression darkened.
The mere thought of that agony was enough to make her eyes tremble.
“No.”
“Honey, that's not what I meant—”
“You don't have to go that far. I'll start exercising like you wanted. I'll take better care of Se-young, and when she's older, I'll get a job too. Don't bring this up again!”
Cheol-gyu hadn't expected her to react so fiercely.
Strong in body but soft-hearted by nature, he quickly grabbed her hand, his eyes reddening.
“I'm sorry if it sounded like I was criticizing you. I was just worried.”
He should have been more careful.
Min-ha's sensitivity was understandable.
Only six months had passed since she'd been pressured into resigning from her company after repeated medical leave caused by debilitating menstrual pain.
The world had dismissed her suffering.
At the very least, her husband shouldn't have.
“...I know. I'm sorry for snapping at you. You've always worried about me sincerely.”
Min-ha lowered her head.
Her former coworkers had accused her of exaggerating.
Even her parents had wondered if she was faking it.
None of her friends suffered as much as she did.
She still remembered how deeply hurt she'd been when her closest friend had told her she was being dramatic over something every woman experienced.
One of the biggest reasons she'd married Kang Cheol-gyu was because he was the only person who genuinely believed her.
The hospitals he'd taken her to, the chocolate, supplements, heated mats, LED therapy devices...
None of it had helped.
“That's not what I meant at all. If my mom can't keep watching Se-young, I'll work a second job and hire a babysitter if I have to. Just focus on getting healthy.”
“I'm sorry... and thank you. You're doing all this for me, and I still feel ashamed.”
The couple embraced tightly.
Patting her back, Cheol-gyu said softly,
“You know I-jin, right? The kid I told you about who tore his ACL. He got treated at this clinic and recovered incredibly well. I want us to go together. You don't have to decide about medicine right away—we can just talk to them first. Let's at least check it out. Please? For me.”
Seeing him plead so earnestly, Min-ha couldn't refuse any longer.
With a reluctant nod, she finally agreed.
“Okay. We'll go.”
The moment their names appeared on the chart, the consultation room door opened.
Kang Cheol-gyu, 32.
Yoo Min-ha, 30.
After seeing patients for twenty years, you didn't need to study physiognomy to get a rough read on people.
Kang Cheol-gyu strode in with broad shoulders and an energetic gait.
A straightforward, easygoing type.
Yoo Min-ha...
Her face practically radiated dissatisfaction.
The deep crease between her brows, the way she looked me up and down, the crossed arms—
It was a perfect trifecta.
“Hello, Doctor! I heard you treated I-jin wonderfully.”
As expected, Cheol-gyu immediately bowed ninety degrees.
“I-jin recovered well because he's healthy. With a coach who cares this much, I'm sure he's in good hands.”
“Haha, you're embarrassing me. Did he tell you I was his coach?”
“Of course. He talked about you a lot.”
While Cheol-gyu laughed heartily, his face turning red, Min-ha merely watched us with narrowed eyes.
“I'll see you one at a time. Mr. Kang, have a seat first. Ms. Yoo, please wait on the sofa.”
“Okay!”
“Fine.”
Both nodded.
“You said your back hurts. How long has it been bothering you?”
Cheol-gyu frowned thoughtfully.
“About eight days.”
“Any idea what caused it? Work? Exercise?”
“My workouts haven't changed. I think I slept wrong.”
“Has this happened before?”
“Recently, I seem to get muscle knots more often. Usually some stretching and exercise clears it up, but this one's lasted longer. It's not that bad, really. Honestly, I mostly came because of my wife. Since I was here anyway, I thought I might as well get checked too.”
He scratched his head awkwardly.
“He's been putting on pain patches and using heat packs. I've even massaged it myself, but it won't go away.”
Min-ha chimed in from the sofa.
The pain sounded worse than Cheol-gyu had admitted.
“Let me take a look.”
I stood and examined the area.
“Right around here—”
“GAAAH!”
The instant I pressed down, he let out a scream loud enough to shake the clinic.
The painful spot wasn't one of the three most common muscles involved in muscle knots.
Usually it was the levator scapulae, the rhomboids, or the trapezius.
This time, however, it was the infraspinatus.
One of the four rotator cuff muscles.
“Did you injure yourself around the time this started? Maybe while demonstrating something in basketball?”
“Haha. It's embarrassing to admit, but I mostly coach these days. I hardly play enough to get hurt.”
After testing for rotator cuff damage and checking the surrounding muscles, I found nothing significant.
His history didn't suggest an acute injury either.
“This seems like something that's been building up for a while. Have you been lifting anything heavy regularly?”
“Not really at work—”
“Honey,” Min-ha interrupted suddenly, “could it be because you're always carrying Se-young?”
“Huh?”
“Your daughter?”
“Yes.”
“I think childcare might be the culprit.”
A lead at last.
I was pleased.
Cheol-gyu, however, looked less thrilled.
“But Se-young weighs practically nothing... I used to be an athlete. Even now, my total is over four hundred kilograms—”
“Our daughter weighs ten kilos. She's already twenty months old. I can barely carry her anymore, but he holds her every day after work.”
“Hahaha. No matter how strong you are, carrying a child for hours is exhausting. The fact that it only tightened up instead of becoming a serious injury is probably thanks to all that muscle.”
“I see...”
“I'll treat it properly. But starting tomorrow, take breaks before it starts hurting.”
Regardless of his pride, we'd found the cause.
“Tomorrow?”
“Even if the pain disappears today, you should rest for at least a day.”
“The pain will disappear today?”
Of course.
I unwrapped an acupuncture needle.
“I'll take care of it right now.”
“Here?”
Cheol-gyu's eyes widened.
Though he'd asked the question, he'd already taken off half his shirt.
Muscles worth showing off anywhere immediately came into view.
Normally I'd do this in the treatment room.
But today was special.
I wanted to put on a bit of a performance for Min-ha.
“You said it hurts here, right?”
“AAH!”
I found the tender point I'd identified earlier.
“Oh...?”
And inserted the needle.
Through skin.
Through fascia.
I felt both layers distinctly as the needle slipped through.
Swish. Swish. Swish.
The crisp sensation accompanied each movement as I unraveled the tangled muscle fibers.
At the same time, I quietly infused a thread of qi into the tissue.
Restoring what was missing or healing torn structures consumed a lot of internal energy.
Loosening a knotted muscle?
That was easy.
A surge of energy spread along the muscle fibers.
“Whoa!”
“Done.”
The tightness vanished completely beneath my fingertips.
Cheol-gyu blinked and rotated his shoulder.
“Already?”
The muscle wasn't deep.
Most of the treatment focused on the fascia.
And unlike a typical acupuncture session, I hadn't left the needles in.
His surprise was understandable.
“It doesn't hurt at all!”
He swung his arm around repeatedly, astonished.
“I tried everything—patches, heat packs, stretching—and nothing worked!”
“Most patches only numb the area. While the pain is reduced, the body sometimes relaxes on its own. Naturally, that can't match directly stimulating the muscle itself.”
“I see!”
Whether he fully understood or not, he looked delighted.
Good enough.
“You don't have any major pain elsewhere, but I can feel some tight spots. I'll loosen those too. Head to the treatment room for a full session.”
“Yes!”
Stage One Clear.
PERFECT.
Nothing special.
When you could literally see where energy had stagnated, missing the target would make you an idiot.
“Alright. Let's switch places.”
If this were a game, Kang Cheol-gyu was like the enemy before the boss battle—the one who dropped useful items and filled your ultimate gauge.
...Calling a patient a mob enemy felt a bit wrong.
Maybe an item supplier?
Either way, the real challenge was Yoo Min-ha.
“...Okay.”
The debuff had worked.
The three deep vertical lines between her brows had become one.
Her distrustful barrier was finally weakening.
We'd reached the point where a conversation was possible.
“Since when have you suffered from menstrual pain?”
I asked as gently as possible.
If Yoo Min-ha was a Level 99 patient—
Then I was at least Level 99,999.
