001. Baby Pharmacist
I was an ordinary pharmacist.
Nothing special. Just someone who grew up in a slightly less fortunate family than others.
“When your mom’s not around, you’re the mom of this house. Understand?”
I had heard that phrase so many times it was etched into my ears.
On the day I entered elementary school, after my father passed away in an accident, my mother had to work day and night. I, at such a young age, had to take on the role of protector for my even younger brother.
I survived with sheer grit.
I wanted to ease my exhausted mother’s burden, to let my little brother have even a normal life.
Fortunately, after countless part-time jobs and relentless studying, I earned a scholarship to a pharmacy college in the provinces.
“Well done, really well done! Once you become a pharmacist, our little family won’t have to worry about making ends meet anymore!”
It was the first time my mother smiled at me since my father’s death.
Even after entering college as a scholarship student, I kept working to cover dorm fees and living expenses.
The best I could manage was finding a job at a pharmacy that would at least support my studies.
“Wow, a college student and you haven’t missed a single day in four years, even though you’d want to go out and have fun?”
The pharmacy director, impressed by my diligence, offered me a full-time pharmacist position after graduation. A few months into working there, I earned a nickname.
“The little pharmacist who gives medicine so well.”
It was just a nickname the elders used for the freshly graduated me. I never imagined I would actually turn into a baby.
“Gasp…!”
One day, I drew a deep breath and opened my eyes—only to find myself in an unfamiliar room.
[Indigestion]
Looking around frantically, I noticed letters floating in the air.
More precisely, they hovered just above the chest of the person sitting in front of me.
“Indig…estion?”
As I slowly realized the meaning of the floating letters, I lifted my head and saw a man’s pale face.
His hair was a light golden hue, his straight nose seamlessly connecting from a smooth forehead, and even his thin lips were strikingly attractive.
“Is he a foreigner?”
I tensed, wondering what to do if he spoke English. His blue eyes met mine.
“Why are you looking like that, Nadia? Is there something on Daddy’s face?”
The man, calling himself my father, tilted his head curiously.
Though his forehead was damp with sweat, his face seemed to radiate an almost glowing light.
His gentle smile blinded me; I instinctively lowered my head and muttered:
“So, so, hands, so handsome….”
My inner thoughts slipped out uncontrollably, and I gasped, covering my mouth with both hands.
My slurred pronunciation and childlike voice felt strange even to me.
“Huh? What did you say?”
Luckily, he didn’t seem to hear me, tilting his head in confusion.
I glanced down, feeling something odd against my lips. My eyes fell on my hands.
They were small and chubby. I opened and closed my pale, soft fingers experimentally.
“What… are these cute little hands?”
As I fiddled with my tiny hands and feet, I noticed his gaze.
Even though his expression looked faint and weak, his eyes were filled with overwhelming affection as he stared at me.
The floating letters above his chest shook more violently than before, as if pleading: “Do something, please.”
“What is that letter? Is it only visible to me…? Judging by his face, could it be that he’s suffering from indigestion?”
I searched around for anything I could use.
“If it’s indigestion, a daily dose of our pharmacy’s special digestive medicine should help… Or maybe a folk remedy, like pressing all ten fingers.”
No matter where I was, there were no digestive aids or needles in sight.
The letters vibrated so quickly now they were unreadable, and he kept rubbing his stomach in discomfort.
Seeing his pale face made me uneasy, and my small body fidgeted.
Instinctively, my hand shot out.
“Ouch! Nadia, that hurts…!”
I grabbed his hand and pressed firmly between his thumb and forefinger.
My plump little fingers were clumsy, but as I pushed with effort, he flinched and let out a groan.
“J-just like this, and…”
There it was again, the slurred speech.
And somehow, I kept speaking informally despite myself—it felt awkward.
What had happened to my body?
My mind was in chaos, but I tried to focus on the acupressure.
Then another thought popped up:
“Isn’t this unlicensed medical practice?”
I paused briefly, then shook my head.
It didn’t matter—I wasn’t in a pharmacy. If the patient needed comfort, even a folk remedy was better than nothing. I laughed at myself for thinking otherwise.
I concentrated again, pressing the hardened areas of his hand.
The previously stone-like Hegu point slowly softened, and warmth began to flow through both of my palms.
“Aahhh—!”
After a while, a refreshing burp echoed through the room.
At the same time, the letters above his chest flickered a few times and vanished.
The patient, now flushed with relief, shyly covered his mouth with his hand.
“Oh, excuse me, Nadia. I had such a terrible stomach after dinner. But it’s amazing—when my youngest daughter touches it, it goes right down!”
“Are you feeling better now?”
“Good job, our Nadia! Are you taking care of Daddy?”
He then pouted his lips and leaned closer.
No matter how handsome he was, this was a bit much for a first meeting.
Startled, I jumped up and shouted:
“G-go away!”
I dashed to a bed in the corner of the room, and he followed in a single step, lifting me gently and placing me on the bed.
He pulled the blanket up to my chest, arranged cushions around me, and it all felt oddly familiar.
Finally, he handed me a worn elephant plush and kissed my forehead gently.
“Have sweet dreams tonight, Nadia. I love you.”
“….”
Not knowing what to say, I closed my eyes and pretended to sleep. Soon, I heard him leave the room.
I opened my eyes quietly much later.
The room was empty, and as my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I could make out the shapes of small wooden furniture and toys scattered around—clearly for a child.
“What just happened? Why did I suddenly become a child? Where is this place? It doesn’t look like Korea…”
Questions tumbled through my mind.
“Who’s here?”
I whispered to the heavens, Buddha, and all the deities, but no one answered.
Sighing, I lowered my head.
“What on earth… is going on?”
I hugged the elephant plush he had given me, despite being older than a carton of eggs—what was I doing with a toy?
As I shoved the plush aside, a word flashed in my mind:
Nadia—the name the man with indigestion had called me.
“Nadia… Nadia… where have I heard that before?”
My brain felt clouded, slow to work.
“Ah!”
After clutching my head in frustration, I finally remembered:
“I Became the Second Wife of a Scarred Man.”
A web novel I read two days before its release. In it, the male protagonist’s ex-wife’s younger sister was named Nadia.
Yes. Nadia was barely mentioned in the protagonist’s flashbacks—hardly a side character.
But how did I remember her name?
I had been impressed by the story of her older sister, Mila.
She appeared early in the novel as an empress who fell in love with the emperor, but her weak body died after losing her child during late pregnancy.
I had felt such pity reading that part.
“If this were modern times, with oxytocin injections and various hemostatic drugs, it could have been managed… At least with some imperial herbal medicine…”
Watching novels, movies, or dramas, I had this kind of occupational reflex: thinking about what medicine to use if a patient appeared.
“Wait… does that mean I’ve become a character in the novel? Ha, unbelievable!”
Even though it seemed impossible, I started organizing the related information mentioned in the book. Suddenly, I felt blood draining from my head.
“Hold on… after the first daughter of the Count of Lenart dies…”
I unconsciously moved my lips.
“Fuu, ruin everything!”
Indeed, the Lenart family, one of the founding families of the Edmonds Empire, would enjoy high prestige relative to their title—but tragically, within a decade, they would fall apart.
