Chapter 33
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 33
Chapter Title: Refreshing Treatment
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“Let's try it for just one month first.”
“Take it easy. After a month, you'll see noticeable changes. I'll give you a topical ointment too. Come in for acupuncture at least once a week. Sometimes we'll do extractions as well.”
“Yes.”
Jeong Inseong's mother wrapped up the consultation on the defensive, but she'd be begging for more after a month of the medicine anyway.
Once the jeokbang kicked in, her skin would improve, but so would her digestion, sleep, and focus—her whole condition would transform.
“The clinic's close to school, so I'll make time to come for treatment. Thank you, Director.”
Jeong Inseong bowed politely, his head low.
What a sensible kid, I thought. No wonder his grandma was bursting with pride.
I sent him into the treatment room while his mother and grandmother headed to the desk to settle the bill.
“Is it that new flesh acupuncture or something?”
The moment he entered the treatment room—whether from experience at Haneul Clinic or hearing about it elsewhere—Jeong Inseong asked right away.
“No, the principle's different. New flesh acupuncture makes tiny wounds on the face and injects meds to promote fresh tissue—it's for scar removal. I'm going to needle your meridians to regulate your qi.”
“Ooh.”
“We'll start by settling that rising heat in your upper body. Acne inflammation is just one form of heat, after all.”
I checked his pulse as I spoke. Loosening stiff muscles was one thing, but reversing the flow meant targeting where the qi pooled most.
“I'll start with Baihui. Take a deep breath in... and exhale slowly~.”
Baihui—the crown of the head, dead center. A convergence point for countless meridians. When the Conception and Governing Vessels are open, Baihui and the perineum connect heaven and earth.
Even without cultivation, it remained a gateway to receive heavenly qi, just like for any murim expert.
Tok.
Light insertion.
And... paaat!
I drove qi straight into Baihui, scattering the heat in a rush. Waiting passively wasn't enough for Jeong Inseong—he needed a stronger push.
Yang and yin qi were both essential, but his excess yang was pooling in his face, sparking inflammation.
“Huh?”
“A few more times.”
Tok. Tok. Tok. Tok.
I needled the Four Divine Intelligences around Baihui—front, back, left, right—and the Taiyang points at his temples, dispersing qi the same way. Direct qi circulation through the needles at every hotspot.
“This... is acupuncture?”
“Heh.”
“My head feels so much cooler already.”
Jeong Inseong pressed the back of his hand to his forehead in awe, sensing the change immediately. Unless you had Kim Ijin's level of qi sensitivity, subtle shifts were hard to notice—but he'd suffered chronic heat buildup for so long.
“Do you get brain fog much?”
“Kinda... What's that?”
“Like your head's cloudy, foggy, can't focus no matter what.”
“Doesn't everyone?”
“See how it feels when you study after today's treatment.”
I grinned, and he nodded eagerly, eyes bright with anticipation.
Might as well hit the Jingming points to clear his eyes while I was at it. Then I palpated his abdomen.
Gurgle.
He mentioned occasional diarrhea. Not severe like indigestion, but his gut wasn't moving right.
A few needles in abdominal and limb digestion points, plus the Four Gates where qi entered and exited.
Finally, I regulated his meridians at the Sima points—killer for skin issues.
Done!
“Upper Sima, Middle Sima, Lower Sima—in that order. Prime spots for skin, so if you're studying and want to poke your thigh, stimulate here.”
“Got it. Mark 'em with a pen!”
I'd half-joked, but he scrambled for a writing tool, desperate.
How badly he wanted this.
I fetched a pen, marked the Sima points, and asked,
“What do you wanna do once your skin clears up?”
“Uh...”
Heat flushed his face again—but this was a different kind of red.
“Got a crush?”
“...Yeah.”
“Hope it works out. I'll root for you. All done. Good job!”
“Now I get why Grandma raves. Never knew acupuncture could do this. My head's crystal clear—like I was reborn.”
Aw, so mature and good at compliments.
All that virtue and talent, wasted on acne during prime crush-hunting years. Poor kid.
With clear skin, he'd be swarmed.
I prepared his meds with extra care.
* * *
A week had passed since Jeong Inseong started the medicine from the new clinic.
He'd had acupuncture three times: once the first day, once when he stopped by the next, and... I said a week was fine, but he came again anyway. His head really had cleared up, just like I'd said.
Last visit, she even extracted his remaining pustules—every pimple she touched deflated.
Other places, extractions left shiny bumps or infections sometimes. Was she just that good at it? Or the meds boosting recovery? The estheticians were pros too, so probably the latter.
It's definitely shrinking!
Jeong Inseong grinned at the mirror.
The angry red pimples had lost 30% of their fury; tiny rice grains were gone without a trace.
Even the hot flashes in his head—gone.
He'd chalked it up to exam stress, but brain fog had been the culprit.
Those dazed spells where words wouldn't stick unless he ate chocolate for focus? Now his mind was sharp, and sugar cravings had tanked.
Gotta keep my grades up—no, boost 'em!
He felt the better sleep and clarity, but Mom needed numbers.
Should he get her some too? Might stop her nagging about studying... Suddenly, he got why Grandma proselytized the clinic to everyone.
Grinning at himself in the mirror—until his friend's face popped in.
“Yo, what're you doing?”
End-of-day homeroom over, he'd been mirror-gazing forever; his friend tapped his shoulder.
“Self-study starts soon—soccer first. Just need you.”
“Skipping self-study today, heading home.”
“Huh? You? What's up? Academy?”
His friend scowled, puzzled. The school let you skip self-study easy with a reason—academy, clinic, whatever—but Jeong Inseong never had.
“Clinic.”
His friend squeezed his shoulder hard—kkwaaak!
“Ow! All that studying wrecked your shoulders! Soccer with me fixes it smooth.”
No need to explain it was acne, not shoulders. Dude wouldn't notice improved skin anyway.
“Class rep goes to a clinic too? Where?”
“Wait... skin meds?”
Coincidentally, Kim Ijin and Min Juyeon had overheard. Plus, his desk trash had the herbal packet from last night's dose.
“Uh, yeah! Seongsu Clinic. Acne treatment.”
“Seongsu...”
“No way! How long? Looks way better!”
Kim Ijin started to say something, but Min Juyeon cut in, brushing back his bangs.
She knew his old skin? Thought she never noticed!
Her long hair grazed his arm—heart pounding.
“Just a week. Should be clear once I finish.”
“Wow, super effective? I want some, but Mom waves it off—says buy it myself.”
“Huh? What do you need treated?”
“Here! Freckles!”
“...? Can't see any. You're pretty.”
“Ugh! Makeup covers it!”
Min Juyeon pouted, but he truly couldn't spot it. Flawless porcelain.
“She's like that. Gets bummed at 98% on math—get why we pity you now?”
“Hahaha! Totally!”
Min Juyeon burst out laughing at Kim Ijin's jab.
Missing a national-elite 98%? How? The soccer-pushing dude? Sure. But Kim Ijin saying it? Wild.
Guys like me? No studies, no hope!
Anyway, Min Juyeon's smile as she twirled her hair? Not bad at all.
“If skin bugs you that much, wanna hit the clinic together? Just acupuncture cools head heat—works great.”
He couldn't see freckles, but skin worries were skin worries—why not offer?
“Right? Our director's the best. My condition's night-and-day since starting. Jumps feel different from ankle to knee to back.”
“Ehh? You two dating?”
“Went separately—same place.”
“Heh... Awesome! I'm going! Skipping self-study now.”
She bolted to the teacher's desk, scribbling her excuse in the attendance book. Pure joy at an excuse to ditch study hall.
Wait!
Hold up—was this a date invite?
No, just clinic together. Don't overthink. Plus Kim Ijin...
But his brain flashed: date, confession, dating, marriage—panorama unstoppable.
Soccer dude gave up, snagged another victim. Jeong Inseong and Min Juyeon headed to the clinic.
Truth: he'd only crushed from afar, too scared to even talk properly.
So... what to say?
“Our director's so cool needling— like watching a pro sink a three.”
“Yeah?”
“You're cool too, Ijin~.”
Worried for nothing.
“Director said I'm innately tough—Cheonmu Body? Dunno, don't read wuxia. You guys?”
“Nah, just lit excerpts in Korean.”
“I read wuxia romance! Super intense!”
“We've got our director.”
Kim Ijin rambled solo about Han Yeowon.
Familiar scene. Who? No celeb or athlete fans in friends.
“Like my grandma.”
Spot on. Total grandma vibes.
Treating her stenosis, every outing: “Our director this,” “Our director that”—earworm central.
“What?”
“Grandma praises her nonstop. Uh... sorry if that bugs you.”
“Nah, no biggie. Too much about me?”
“Keep going. Fun. ...Wait, no. You see her handle that rude patient?”
“Hm?”
Jeong Inseong described the first-visit jerk-grab scene in bard-like detail—he'd spilled it to close pals already.
“Insane. Wish I'd been there.”
As expected, Kim Ijin regretted missing the show.
Chatting bloomed; soon, all three reached the clinic.
“Oh? You two together? Friends?”
Director Han Yeowon, filling water at the cooler, waved as they entered.
Jeong Inseong and Min Juyeon bowed politely, but Kim Ijin marched straight up.
“Director.”
Her face dead serious—unlike her giggling “Director~” moments ago.
Like challenging to a duel?
Not mad she missed the story, right?
“Yeah? Something to say?”
The mood screamed epic BGM; even the director looked thrown.
Uh... intervene? Nah, her combat power's 5x mine...
Taat!
Like the rude-patient day, Jeong Inseong froze.
Meanwhile, Kim Ijin thrust a envelope at her with both hands.
“Huh?”
“Public confession?”
Min Juyeon touched her cheek, head tilted. Pure coincidence they came together—she hadn't predicted this either.
So... what was it? No way a love letter!
“Oh?”
Luckily, curiosity solved fast. The director opened it and read aloud.
“National Sports Festival opening ceremony tickets?”