Chapter 144
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 144
Chapter Title: Regret Is Just the Result
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Kang Jo-yoon did his utmost to pay attention in class.
"What’s voltage and current? Volume? What’s proportional to what? What volume?"
Straining to listen to words that made absolutely no sense was exhausting.
So Kang Jo-yoon switched tactics.
He tried jotting down everything the teacher said while focusing hard.
"…Things I like."
But even that didn’t last more than thirty minutes.
By fourth period, his textbook had a table drawn in it.
Things I want to do. Things I’m good at. Things I like.
He hadn’t filled much of it.
Under things I’m good at, he wrote archery. Under things I like, games.
After that, he had nothing left to write.
"Games…."
He knew he didn’t have the skills to succeed as a pro gamer in an industry even narrower than archery.
"Hey, what do you guys want to be when you grow up?"
The moment lunch break hit, he asked his friends eating together.
"Me? Civil servant."
"Scientist."
"What kind of scientist? Mechanical? Electronic?"
"Dunno."
"I’m gonna be a NewTuber."
"Sigh."
…Did they all lack any real plans?
"My dad’s gonna teach me heavy equipment operation."
"Whoa, forklift master? Jealous."
This guy at least had some kind of plan.
"Aren’t you gonna be an archery athlete? Why ask us?"
"With my arm hurt, I’m thinking about what else I could do."
"Whoa? That bad?"
"Nah, just pondering."
"You doing something else would be a national loss!"
"Thanks, but it’s not that serious."
Fifth period, math time.
"Doesn’t it feel great to lose yourself in solving math problems?"
"Ehhhh."
"Back in high school, I’d lose track of time just doing math problems~."
Kang Jo-yoon scowled at his math workbook.
Needless to say, he didn’t lose himself in it like the teacher claimed.
His head just hurt from flipping back and forth, unsure which formula to use.
If it was about losing himself, then…
Drawing the bowstring…
Tang.
A target floated in his mind.
Close his eyes anywhere, anytime, and there it was.
He couldn’t even focus on class—the circles the math teacher drew just looked like targets.
Kang Jo-yoon glanced down at the table from earlier.
In the end, archery was what he liked most after all.
As I’d instructed, Kang Jo-yoon came in for treatment right after school every day.
"I worked hard on math problems today." "I tried karaoke today."
Each visit, he shared a new experience.
"Doctor, I’ve been thinking."
After about a week of deep contemplation, Kang Jo-yoon spoke earnestly.
I led him into the exam room as usual.
"Right now, it feels like archery is both what I’m best at and what I like most."
I’d figured as much.
How could he find something better in just a week?
"I don’t know where else to look. What should I do? Did you worry a lot when you decided to become a Korean medicine doctor? What if I find something I’m better at or like more later and regret it?"
He’d clearly thought hard—his questions were surprisingly philosophical.
"It’s normal not to figure it out right away. I probably decided even more thoughtlessly than you."
Truth be told, I’d barely agonized over my career.
I just knew I’d need a job to support myself after leaving my aunt’s place as an adult.
Somehow, I came to admire Director Choi Eunhui and wanted to be a Korean medicine doctor. It was a stable job with no financial worries, so my thoughts didn’t go further.
"What if I find something I’m even better at later…."
And in fact, I did find something I was just as good at—or better.
Martial arts.
My master had praised my achievements as unbelievable for starting so late.
He might’ve exaggerated out of affection for his disciple, but still.
"You could switch careers or do both, or neither—it’d be fine. Embarrassing to say in front of an archery star like you, but I’m pretty good at shooting too."
I couldn’t mention bows, so I picked something else.
Actually, I was good at shooting. I discovered my talent at a shooting café with college friends. Maybe I had a gift for focus and accuracy?
"Sometimes I think if I’d started sports young, I’d be even better. I went to schools with no girls’ teams from elementary through high school, so it never crossed my mind."
"Yeah, if you don’t seek it out, that happens."
I did regret starting late sometimes.
I’d wondered about seeing martial arts through to the end as a warrior.
But even in the murim world, I chose life as a physician, not a fighter.
And I decided to live as an ordinary Korean medicine doctor in modern Korea, not as the Divine Physician of that world.
"I could’ve been a shooter or some other athlete… Ah, it sounds silly to a dedicated athlete like you, but just as an example. I could’ve picked a different major based on my college entrance scores."
"Doesn’t sound silly! I’m the one who underestimated studying and stuff."
"Thanks. Anyway. I have zero regrets."
About my career choice or returning to the modern world.
"It’s not because it was the best choice. I’m just satisfied now. Honestly, I think regret is just the outcome."
Early after opening my clinic, I regretted it when patients didn’t come. Now that it’s thriving, I’m grateful for that chance encounter.
"If you become an Olympic gold medalist, you won’t regret dedicating yourself to archery, right?"
"Yeah."
"But if you get hurt like you worried before, or fall short, or fail for some reason, you might regret it. Like, ‘I should’ve found another path sooner!’"
"Yeah."
"Conversely, if you switch… Say you get into a top university and land a big corporate job, you might think pivoting was smart. Or if it flops, you regret not sticking with sports."
"…You’re right. I get what you mean by ‘regret is just the result.’"
Kang Jo-yoon nodded as if gaining profound insight.
Hmm, a bit embarrassing.
"Life doesn’t end with one regret. New paths can open up. You wander and stumble to forge your way, so don’t worry about regrets ahead of time."
"That’s a great saying."
Kang Jo-yoon mulled over my words for a while.
Then, with pursed lips:
"Argh, annoying. Turns out what Mom’s been pushing is what I like and do best."
His sulky expression shifting by the second was adorable.
I smiled back at him.
"Your success will be entirely yours. Your mom might be satisfied raising such a fine son…."
What to say?
I hoped he wouldn’t see it as fulfilling her dream.
Think of it as using your mom? Parents only get vicarious satisfaction anyway?
I’d told Hwang Sanghun to ignore parental expectations and chase his dreams, but that was too harsh for a middle school boy.
"Mom probably doesn’t enjoy shooting arrows at targets as much as I do, right?"
Surprisingly, he picked up exactly what I wanted to say.
"You loved it so much in high school, working so hard, but I’ve never seen Mom shoot. It’s probably not as fun for her now. Maybe she’s the one who needs to find something else she’s good at."
No, he went even further.
Such a smart, insightful kid.
"Thanks so much for listening, Doctor! I won’t fear regrets, I’ll check out new paths later, and I’ll give it my all. …I don’t think I’ll resent Mom anymore."
I’d only given a few words of advice.
At his age, to understand his mother—and even pity her—like that.
"He could be anything."
And he was great at archery too? Totally unfair.
The two weeks the Korean medicine doctor predicted passed, and amazingly, the stabbing pain vanished.
"I can lift my arm now!"
Kang Jo-yoon said cheerfully.
How anxious he’d been every time his arm ached unexpectedly?
The shoulder that screamed at 90 degrees now moved smoothly.
"The inflammation’s mostly gone. As I mentioned before, ligaments take longer to heal fully, so keep up the treatments."
"What about practice then…."
"So I can do archery now?"
His mom and Kang Jo-yoon asked at once.
"Yes, it’s fine. But only to the point it doesn’t hurt."
Kang Jo-yoon’s face lit up.
"Thank you!"
He’d rested for a full two weeks.
How stifling it had been.
It felt like a decade since he’d gone this long without drawing a bowstring.
He hadn’t drawn with his arms, but he’d shot hundreds—no, thousands—of arrows in his mind.
He’d studied, looked up careers.
But simulating targets with eyes closed was more fun.
Even at PC bangs or karaoke with friends, his mind was on targets.
"Glad it turned out well. You’ve played enough, so practice starts tomorrow again."
The moment they got home, Mom said while peeling fruit.
She hadn’t mentioned archery once in two weeks. She’d told him to go to the clinic alone, hadn’t nagged when he came home late playing with friends.
It had been so peaceful.
"Did I play because I wanted to?"
Was getting better a reason to piss him off right away?
Before, he’d have yelled.
"Mom, just apologize."
But after the doctor’s words and pondering his future, he’d changed.
Grown, maybe?
…Now he somewhat understood she lashed out from guilt.
"No, where do you get off…!"
Mom reflexively raised her voice, but Kang Jo-yoon met her eyes squarely.
And popped a piece of peeled fruit into his mouth.
"You’re sorry."
Even if she denied it, he knew now.
"…Sorry for accusing you of faking it. You must’ve felt so hurt."
Thankfully, she didn’t cling to pride.
She fidgeted, voice trembling.
"I’m okay now. My arm’s okay too."
Not entirely, but the apology soothed much of the hurt.
"I’ve sorted my thoughts too."
Mom’s eyes widened.
She’d been quietly anxious seeing him flip through textbooks at night.
Was she worried deep down about pushing archery on him?
"While resting, I thought about a lot. I’ll do archery to the end, no regrets. No need to worry about me faking anything."
"Okay…."
"Sorry for blaming you for not making nationals. You asked what else I could do besides archery, and I lashed out in anger—it wasn’t sincere."
It had nagged at him. He’d said harsh things.
But he’d prioritized getting an apology, and now he could bow his head guilt-free.
"Sorry, really sorry."
The tears in Mom’s eyes as he looked up were more pitiable than ever.
"You don’t need to be sorry anymore. I’m not doing it for your wish. I want to see it through because I’m good at it and love it. I’ll really give it everything…."
To Kang Jo-yoon, Mom had been bigger than anyone.
She’d set his path, pressured him, forced him, yelled.
He’d hated her. Resented her.
But now, she seemed just a flawed person.
"You should find something like the archery you loved so devotedly in high school."
Mom didn’t reply.
"When did you get so…."
She just muttered something off-topic.
"Or we could do archery together again."
Kang Jo-yoon ducked his head, embarrassed.
"Thanks for the fruit."
And thoroughly chewed the piece she’d peeled.
"…So for Kang Jo-yoon, focus shoulder treatment on the biceps area. He’s over 70% improved, so just careful check-ups each visit should suffice."
"Got it. Referred by Hand Chun-ja, right?"
"Yeah."
Hwang Sanghun was back, so I briefed him on the past few days’ cases.
Changes in his patients, plus Kang Jo-yoon from a referral.
"Why do you look so exhausted, oppa?"
Even as I handed off, I kept glancing at Hwang Sanghun’s complexion.
He looked almost as bad as when we first met at that wedding—maybe exaggerated a bit.
"You rested up—what happened? Skydiving or something?"
The staff freaked out too.
"Oppa, didn’t you go to the sauna? Did you hike up?"
Hwang Sanghun finally spoke, looking like he’d aged a lifetime.
"So much happened…."
So much?
Did he meet a mysterious old man at the sauna?
Or fall into the murim world and live there for a century or so.