Chapter 44: The Diagnosis Uncovered

“My arm… no physician in Yonggung has ever been able to heal it.”

The middle-aged man spoke solemnly. Beneath his words lay deep distrust toward doctors—and despair over his own condition.

‘So it wasn’t just about passing on the family business…’

At first, Cheong had assumed he was simply opposing his son for the sake of preserving the family’s legacy.

But now, it was clear—this man didn’t just blame himself for his wife’s death. He also resented the physicians of Yonggung who had failed to treat her and now, even himself. He had lost faith in medicine altogether.

And now, with his son running errands instead of receiving real training, he was bound to explode in frustration.

‘Actually, this is perfect.’

Cheong smirked as she looked at the man blocking her path with an intimidating stance.

In treatment, the biggest obstacles were a patient’s distrust and fear.

But ironically, those same emotions could magnify the results when treatment succeeded.

“The deeper the doubt, the greater the impact when they’re healed.”

‘I’ve seen it with my own eyes.’

Back when she worked at a university hospital, Cheong had seen it often. Patients who deeply distrusted traditional medicine would become passionate believers after one successful experience.

This was a perfect chance to show her skill in Yonggung.

“Then I suppose I’ll rewrite that history. After all, I’m not from Yonggung.”

“Heh… You’ve got some nerve.”

Despite his attempt to intimidate her, Cheong didn’t flinch, and the man couldn’t help but be impressed.

After all, anyone bold enough to treat the Dragon King must have some guts.

“But I have one condition.”

A condition, in a situation unfavorable to her?

The man’s competitive spirit, long dormant due to his injury, began to stir.

“If I heal your arm, then you must allow your son to continue pursuing medicine.”

The “seal pup” youth’s eyes widened in shock at the unexpected request.

“Fine. But if you fail, I’m taking him home immediately.”

“Deal.”

Cheong readily accepted the wager.

‘Why does no one ask for my opinion…’

Only the young man looked between the two in stunned silence.

“If you’re such a skilled doctor, then treat me right here.”

The man boldly pulled down his collar, revealing his shoulder.

His bronzed skin and battle scars were enough to intimidate most.

“Just what I wanted.”

Cheong grinned and took out her acupuncture needles.

The sharp points glinted in the sunlight as she fanned them between her fingers.

Gahwa and the young man watched, holding their breath.

‘This tension… even breathing feels hard!’

After a long pause, Cheong broke the silence.

“Let’s examine the arm first.”

“Go ahead.”

With his permission, she began carefully observing his arm.

“When does it hurt the most?”

“It used to hurt after a lot of movement. Now, even small motions hurt.”

Cheong nodded.

“Please try the movements I instruct.”

She asked him to rotate his shoulder, raise his arm, and so on.

Each movement was clearly painful and difficult.

“Now try pushing against my palms.”

He did as instructed, applying pressure.

“Alright. That’ll be enough.”

“What happened to that confidence of yours? All this for some childish arm exercises?”

The man scoffed, massaging his sore shoulder.

Despite her bold demeanor, Cheong had only asked trivial questions and tests.

He figured her confidence wouldn’t last much longer.

But then—

“I’ve diagnosed your condition.”

“……!”

Everyone froze at her confident words.

How could she possibly diagnose him after just a few questions and a light touch?

“What is it?!”

The middle-aged man, who had been calm until now, shouted in surprise.

No one had ever been able to diagnose him.

There was no visible injury, no broken bones—just unexplained pain and loss of mobility.

Most doctors had called it a mysterious, untreatable condition.

But now, she was saying otherwise.

“It’s frozen shoulder.”

“…Frozen shoulder?”

“Yes. The name comes from the fact that it typically affects people around fifty.”

The medical term was adhesive capsulitis, but Cheong used the more accessible term for easier understanding.

“It’s caused by chronic inflammation in the shoulder muscles. During recovery, those muscles sometimes stick together abnormally or in the wrong position.”

She twisted the ends of her hair to demonstrate.

“They become tangled and stiff, reducing mobility and causing pain. Since you’re a swordsman and right-handed, it’s no surprise your right shoulder is affected.”

If it had been a nerve issue, his muscle strength and response would have been affected.

But both were normal, meaning it was muscular, not neurological.

“And how did you know I’m right-handed?”

Cheong tapped his right shoulder lightly.

“It’s slightly higher than your left. That side is more developed from frequent use.”

“Huh…”

The man couldn’t help but admire her observation skills.

He hadn’t expected such detailed insight.

Still, that didn’t mean he was convinced.

“But even so, what can be done about muscles that have already fused?”

Now it made sense why others had failed to treat him.

It wasn’t about divine intervention. You’d have to recreate the muscles entirely.

“You tear them apart.”

Everyone flinched at the brutal suggestion.

Cheong calmly pulled something out.

“With this.”

It was a needle—but thicker than her usual ones, with a small blade at the end.

“It’s a knife needle—dochim (刀鍼).”

She had asked Palcho to make it for emergencies like this.

“Now then, I’ll begin. Don’t worry—it doesn’t hurt much.”

The man nodded solemnly and offered his arm.

As a warrior, he had already lost his way of life. There was nothing more to fear.

Cheong felt around his shoulder, then firmly inserted the dochim.

She moved it to cut through the fused muscles.

Slice, scratch—

After a moment, she withdrew the blade.

“Alright. Try moving it now.”

The man, not expecting much, tried raising his arm—

“…Huh?”

The arm that had never moved past his shoulder rose up… smoothly and painlessly.