Strategic Mating Partner chapter 26

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“Wow, this weather’s insane. Isn’t it basically summer?”

“I’m gonna melt out here.”

It was only April, but the midday sun blazed intensely.

The asphalt was already sizzling, and the news kept droning on about the seriousness of the drought.

Not a drop of rain had fallen from the dry sky, making it feel like a full-on heatwave in the middle of summer.

“If it’s this hot already, how bad is summer going to be?”

“They said it’ll rain this weekend.”

“I might dry up before then.”

Listening half-heartedly to the passing conversation of pedestrians, Taehyun remained seated on a bench until he heard his name being called, causing him to jump to his feet.

“Sung Taehyun, please come to Exam Room 2.”

Answering the nurse’s call, Taehyun stood up and limped into the clinic, his left ankle tightly bound in a cast.

Thankfully, it wasn’t so bad that he couldn’t put any weight on it, so he managed without crutches.

As he entered, the familiar face of the doctor greeted him with a sympathetic click of the tongue.

“The X-ray doesn’t show anything too severe, but the ongoing pain means there’s still some inflammation. It’s not a good situation, but it’s not the worst either. Let’s try absolute rest for now and reassess after that.”

Taehyun’s face instantly fell.

‘Didn’t they say I might be able to get the cast off today?’

His expression betrayed his frustration, prompting the balding doctor to push up his thick-framed glasses and continue.

“There hasn’t been much progress. I thought it might be okay to continue rehab, but based on your current condition, that’s off the table. From today, no physical activity. No walking exercises. For two weeks, think of yourself as dead to the world and limit your movements as much as possible.”

The words hit Taehyun like a bolt from the blue, and he immediately protested.

“What? Doctor, I have to report to the training camp next month.”

This was unthinkable.

With less than six months until the Olympics and having already been selected for the national team, being sidelined for two weeks was unimaginable.

Desperate to deny the situation, Taehyun pressed the doctor, but the man’s stern expression remained.

“Listen, Sung Taehyun. Your ankle is not in a condition where you can afford to worry about training right now! If you’re not careful, you might miss the Olympics altogether. Is missing a few weeks of training more important than not being able to compete at all?”

Faced with the doctor’s exasperation, Taehyun found himself speechless.

If he had to choose between the two, of course, he’d skip training now.

But to be told to rest during this crucial time, while everyone else was sweating and pushing themselves—this is a nightmare.

The despair of the situation overwhelmed him, darkening his vision.

“Two weeks of total rest, no exceptions! No cardio, no more than 3,000 steps a day. Think of yourself as an underwater prince who can’t use his legs at all.”

“…Okay.”

Defeated, Taehyun resigned himself to the doctor’s orders.

He had no choice.

Letting out a long sigh, Taehyun left the clinic, the doctor’s words of caution trailing after him.

“And don’t even think for a second that you can get away with not running. Any exercise that puts pressure on your ankle is out. No bench presses, no planks, nothing! The only thing you should be doing is breathing exercises!”

As much as he wanted to ignore the doctor’s nagging, Taehyun ultimately nodded.

‘This is a disaster.’

Cursing the gods he didn’t even believe in, Taehyun slumped onto a bench near the payment counter, waiting for his name to be called again.

As he let out a long breath, he felt a shadow cast over him from behind.

“…?”

Taehyun tilted his head back to see who it was.

The familiar face belonged to Shin Hoyong, his manager from WIA Sports.

“All done with your appointment? Have you paid?”

Taehyun, still drained, greeted Hoyong and relayed the news from the doctor.

“Not yet. They’ll call my name soon.”

“What did the doctor say? Couldn’t take it off today?”

At Hoyong’s concerned expression, Taehyun nodded weakly, mirroring his own mood.

“Yeah, he said it’s hard to assess the situation right now. He told me not to do any physical activity for two weeks.”

“Damn… That’s serious.”

Hoyong’s face twisted with concern.

It was no wonder.

Taehyun was not only WIA Sports’ star athlete but also one of the country’s most promising hopes for a gold medal at the 202X Istanbul Olympics.

After the controversial officiating at the last Olympics, the entire nation was eager to see him make his comeback.

To be sidelined for two weeks at such a critical time was a major setback for both him and the management.

“Isn’t there anything else they can do? Couldn’t they at least try to rework the cast to reduce the strain?”

Hoyong asked, hopeful for any alternative, but Taehyun shook his head.

“No, they said I can’t put any weight on my ankle. Even bench presses are out. I can’t walk more than 3,000 steps a day.”

“Damn…”

At the growing list of restrictions, Hoyong frowned again.

Absolute rest seemed to be the only option, as frustrating as it was.

“We’ll just have to pray you heal quickly and try everything that’s good for your bones.”

Even though he knew that things like collagen or calcium would eventually just break down into calories, saying it out loud was a way of clinging to whatever superstition he could—because the situation was that dire.

Although Taehyun hadn’t done anything wrong, he couldn’t help but feel like a criminal, and he slowly nodded his head.

The injury began at an international competition held under the World Federation at the end of last year.

Since it was the final qualifying event for the Olympics, every athlete participated with intense determination.

Taehyun had already met the other selection criteria, so all he needed to do at this tournament was place within the top 16 to secure his spot.

He had relaxed a little, knowing that.

Last time, it had been an unjust decision by the referees, but he’d made up for it by winning the Asian Games afterward, and since then, he hadn’t lost his number one spot in the World Federation’s -80kg ranking.

All the other athletes aimed to defeat Taehyun, so he didn’t expect anything surprising to happen at a relatively low-stakes event like this.

Sure enough, he didn’t disappoint anyone and clinched the gold medal.

But that’s when the real problem started.

Every athlete, including Taehyun, has a dominant leg they’re more comfortable with—just like how some people are left-handed, and others are right-handed.

Taehyun’s specialty was supporting himself firmly on his left leg while delivering a roundhouse kick with his right leg to his opponent’s head.

He couldn’t remember when he developed the habit, but by the time he became a standout youth medalist, using his right leg for attacks had already become second nature.

He tried to correct it several times, but it wasn’t easy.

Of course, rotating on the right leg isn’t particularly difficult.

But in those split-second moments where Taehyun had to decide how to deliver a more powerful blow to his opponent, he instinctively trusted his right leg.

This time, too, he planted his left foot firmly on the mat and swung his right leg with all his strength.

His graceful kick connected with his opponent’s headgear, and just as he was about to land back on the mat, Taehyun sensed something was off.

The opponent, whom he had kicked, had somehow crouched right where he was supposed to place his foot.

In that instant, Taehyun had to make a choice: stomp down on his opponent’s body or shift his stance and land somewhere else.

No matter how important it was to protect himself during the match, Taehyun couldn’t bring himself to choose the former.

He quickly adjusted his balance and landed a little farther away.

But in that moment, he felt a sharp pain, like his ankle had twisted.

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