RAK 03

Chapter 3 …

There’s a hospital in a place like this?

Seyeon slowly looked around. In a neighborhood with only a few small, ordinary shops, a modern building standing tall all by itself strangely reminded her of a person.

On one side of the hospital building was a pharmacy with a sign that read “Seoul Pharmacy.” In Seoul, it would have been an unremarkable hospital and pharmacy she’d pass by without a second glance, but seeing them here made her feel oddly glad.

After staring at it with curiosity for a moment, Seyeon followed behind the two people ahead of her and headed toward Seoul Clinic.

Perhaps because she’d been tense for several days, she already felt a faint body ache coming on. Since she’d come all this way anyway, she decided she might as well get checked before going back.

“You’re the young lady who just moved into Seungho’s grandma’s old house, right? I heard you came down from Seoul for work.”

“Yes, hello.”

An elderly man she met on the way to the clinic greeted her warmly. He wasn’t the only one. For a while now, the gazes of people around her had been following her like magnets.

Seyeon felt as if she’d become the main character of an observation reality show. It felt like multiple cameras were trained on her.

“You heading to Seoul Clinic to get sweet potatoes too, miss?”

Why would someone go to a hospital to get sweet potatoes?

“No. I’m here to see a doctor.”

“Then did you get this? If you don’t have it, you’ll be waiting a long time.”

The old man pulled out a vibrating pager from his pocket. It was the same thing the Corn Grandma had been holding earlier. When Seyeon shook her head, the old man looked genuinely regretful.

As soon as they opened the outer glass door and entered Seoul Clinic, the first thing that caught her eye was a sleek, elongated sink set off to the side. She noticed patients washing their hands with hand wash before entering through the inner door.

“You have to wash your hands properly here before going in. The director and the nurses are extremely thorough about it. If you pass a virus on to someone else, you’re basically a traitor—a traitor. He’s the only doctor around here, so you’d better listen to what he says.”

While listening to the old man’s explanation, a spot at the sink opened up. Just as Seyeon absentmindedly reached for the hand wash, she froze when she saw the brand name.

“It smells nice and subtle, doesn’t it? Washing with this even lifts your mood.”

The hand wash the old man pumped into his palm was a brand sold only in department stores. It was the expensive kind people often gave as holiday gifts.

And that wasn’t the only unusual thing. One wall was lined with neatly arranged KF94 disposable masks in various sizes. Individually packaged, they were the kind that usually cost two or three thousand won each at pharmacies in Seoul.

When Seyeon stared at them in confusion, the old man kindly explained.

“If you cough, you might spread a cold, so the director says you have to wear a mask when you come in. Oh, right—those aren’t free. They’re 100 won. You pay the nurse later.”

Feeling achy, Seyeon took one mask from the display.

A mask this good for 100 won?
Unable to understand, she stared at the mask in her hand. The old man leaned in and whispered.

“The director pays the rest out of his own pocket. So only people who really need one should take just one. If you take two, you’re a traitor too. Remember that, miss.”

Was washing hands and wearing a mask really important enough to talk about traitors?

Nodding, Seyeon put on the mask, opened the inner door, and went inside.

The spacious waiting room was crowded with people. The monitor displaying the waiting list was packed with names. The Corn Grandma was nowhere to be seen—she must have already gone into the exam room.

“Anyone picking up sweet potatoes, please take as much as you need from the left waiting room!”

A nurse stood up from the reception desk and called out loudly.

Turning her head, Seyeon saw several people in a glass-partitioned room on the left dividing sweet potatoes into black plastic bags. It looked like some kind of free distribution.

“……”

Elsewhere, three full-body massage chairs were busily operating. They looked like single-person spaceships—the same model Chairman Myung, Seyeon’s grandfather, used at home.

Because of that, Seyeon roughly knew how much those chairs cost. Even three of them would have been at least one hundred million won.

Is this hospital being run just to spend money?

At this point, she became extremely curious about who this “director” actually was.

Seyeon went to the reception desk and wrote her name and resident registration number in a notebook. After briefly checking her symptoms, the nurse handed her a pager. Seyeon said she’d wait inside the waiting room and went to sit on a sofa.

The stares didn’t stop even inside the clinic. Pretending not to notice, Seyeon fixed her gaze on her phone and waited for her turn. Ever since coming down to Cheonghaeri, she’d unintentionally been experiencing the life of a celebrity.

“Myung Seyeon, please come into the exam room.”

When her name was finally called, Seyeon stood up. Just as she casually grabbed the doorknob and was about to go in, she suddenly widened her eyes and spun around.

Cold sweat ran down her back at the unexpected encounter.

That director… is this director?

“Myung Seyeon.”

The doctor called her name from behind. For a moment, she considered just leaving, but remembering that this was the only hospital around, she sighed inwardly and sat down in the patient’s chair.

The doctor, who had been focused on the monitor, eventually turned his head to look at her. Before her eyes could meet those of the rude man from next door, Seyeon quickly lowered her gaze.

“What brings you in today, Ms. Myung Seyeon?”

The man asked in a flat, emotionless voice.

Does he not recognize me because of the mask?
If so, that’s a relief.

“Ms. Myung Seyeon.”

At her name being called again, Seyeon finally looked up at him.

“…I feel kind of chilly all over.”

Get it together. The man next door is the only doctor at the only hospital in Cheonghaeri.

“When did it start?”

“About two days ago.”

“You don’t have a fever… Let’s take a look. Take off your outerwear and turn around.”

After checking her temperature with a forehead thermometer, Yujin gestured for her to turn around. Seyeon took off her thick hoodie and held it in her hands as she turned. The cold stethoscope touched various parts of her back.

“Turn back around.”

This time, he pressed the stethoscope lightly against her upper chest. Even though it was just a medical exam, she felt strangely tense, her body stiffening.

“Your breathing sounds fine. How’s your throat? Any coughing?”

He asked as he removed the stethoscope from his ears.

“I’m not coughing yet, but my throat feels a bit scratchy.”

“Take off your mask and open your mouth for a moment.”

Resigned, Seyeon removed her mask. She expected him to say something right away, but unexpectedly, he didn’t comment.

When she opened her mouth and said “ah,” he gently pressed her tongue down with a tongue depressor and examined the back of her throat. Looking at him with her eyes lowered, her mouth felt oddly dry.

“The right tonsil is a bit swollen. It’s not severe, so you don’t need antibiotics right away. I’ll prescribe fever reducers and anti-inflammatory meds for three days. Drink plenty of water and don’t overexert yourself.”

Yujin said calmly while typing on the keyboard. Seyeon nodded and hurriedly picked up her outerwear to leave the exam room, but his voice followed her.

“By the way, what does your father do, Ms. Myung Seyeon?”

“Why do you ask?”

Why would a doctor ask about her dad’s job? Seyeon blinked, confused.

“You do look like you were raised gently, but not like a daughter who was raised with great care.”

A contemptuous gaze landed on her. Only then did she realize—he hadn’t failed to recognize her. He had been pretending not to.

Whether intentional or not, his words poked painfully at Seyeon’s sore spot.

“…This is the only hospital in this town.”

After a brief silence, she spoke.

“So?”

“It means I’ll tolerate your rudeness this one time.”

Yujin half-turned his swivel chair toward her and tilted his head slightly.

“And if I don’t?”