The Self-Cultivation of a Reborn Massage Therapist

Chapter 405 Wishing all readers a Happy Mid-Autumn Festival
Fatty's worries have never been wrong.

Despite Ms. Foster's special reminder today to keep a low profile, otherwise he would face suppression and even more drastic measures from industry giants.

But those attacks were aimed at him, Zhao Xiaochui, and he was confident he could handle them. What truly worried him was the safety of the girls.

Having come this far, there's no turning back. Since that's the case, let's just keep going.

Zhao Xiaochui glanced at his phone. A message popped up on the screen, indicating that Guoguo's popular science argument against professional medicine had begun to ferment and stir up waves.

He raised an eyebrow, calmly turned off the screen, tidied up his belongings, and walked steadily into the brightly lit massage parlor.

Inside the hall, dozens of customers and technicians quietly formed a circle, their eyes focused on the lone massage bed in the center, while the blind technician listened intently.

The air is filled with a faint, calming aroma of essential oils, and soft, warm lighting shines down from above, accompanied by soothing background music, all in an effort to create an atmosphere that is both open and relaxing.

Chen Mingliang stood beside the massage bed, his feelings complicated.

He was unfortunate, tormented for years by this relentless fatigue with no identifiable cause; yet he was also fortunate to have met that responsible doctor, who recommended him to this legendary place. Even more fortunate, he would be personally treated by the owner, Zhao Xiaochui.

Of course, in exchange, he needs to cooperate with this public teaching demonstration.

Amidst everyone's attention, Miss Pan Xiaoli brought over an exquisite porcelain bowl filled with steaming soup. "Mr. Chen, this is a nourishing soup specially prepared for you. It's made with black-boned chicken and pork spine, with some common medicinal herbs like Solomon's seal and goji berries. Drinking some while it's hot will help you relax."

Her voice was very soft, and Chen Mingliang looked at her gentle smiling face, and his tense mood relaxed a little.

Chen Mingliang took the bowl, and the warm soup slid down his esophagus, a warm feeling slowly spreading in his stomach.

He then lay down on the massage bed. Seeing that Pan Xiaoli was about to leave, he became nervous again and quickly asked, "Um..."

Chen Mingliang just wanted someone to be by his side, instead of lying here all alone being watched. "With this illness, is it really impossible for me to exercise?"

Pan Xiaoli tilted her cute little head and said softly, "Mr. Chen, according to our understanding, the prerequisite for you to be able to move is that during the stable period of your condition, under the guidance of a physical therapist, you can start with simple stretching and perform step-by-step exercises."

Although her voice was very soft, everyone in the quiet hall heard what the young lady said.

Chen Mingliang: "..."

What a perfect answer!
Among the crowd, an older woman said with a wry smile, "At our age, how can we have six months to cooperate with doctors for a diagnosis? Without a diagnosis, how can there be a period of stable condition?"

"Exactly! And what kind of physical therapist are we? Where are we supposed to find one? Forget about whether they're covered by medical insurance, the step-by-step exercise routine sounds like it's not something that can be done just once or twice. Who can afford that?"

"Young lady, tell me the truth, is there a cure for this disease?"

Miss Pan Xiaoli turned her head and looked around, but didn't say anything.

Just as the atmosphere at the scene was somewhat tense, Zhao Xiaochui walked over carrying a physiotherapy kit.

He did not act immediately, but calmly looked at the crowd:
"The official clinical conclusion is that less than 5% of patients can recover to their pre-illness activity levels, and most people require long-term energy management and symptomatic support. This disease is currently incurable; all treatments only alleviate symptoms and improve quality of life." "The best and only strategy for this disease at present is to diagnose it as soon as possible, manage it long-term, and wait for targeted therapies to become available."

He gently opened the treatment kit, which contained a tablet computer and various essential oils. He continued in a calm tone:
"What we mean by 'Take it Easy' is to manage this stage over the long term. We cannot promise a cure, but we will do our best to help alleviate your pain and make your body more comfortable."

At this moment, an older man in the crowd couldn't help but complain: "Even if we feel better for now, with this price... how can we ordinary wage earners afford it next time?"

Zhao Xiaochui didn't stop what he was doing, nor did he look up; he simply replied indifferently:
"This time it's free."

Three words, spoken lightly, silenced the commotion that had just begun. The middle-aged man who had started complaining opened his mouth, but ultimately said nothing, simply lowering his head in silence.

Soft music filled the entire hall.

After finishing his rant, Zhao Xiaochui turned his gaze to Chen Mingliang. The moment their eyes met, the dormant warmth within him surged forth unexpectedly, conveying an almost joyful sense of closeness.

this person……

As an ancient book restorer, there can only be one reason why he can make the heat flow so well: he is doing one thing day after day: cultural inheritance.

Zhao Xiaochui sighed deeply in his heart, then suddenly asked:
"Why are you lying down before I've even had my physical exam?"

Chen Mingliang: "..."

He didn't know how to answer, and just avoided Zhao Xiaochui's gaze with a gloomy expression.

Zhao Xiaochui didn't expect his answer either.

"Does it feel like all your energy is drained, leaving you paralyzed in bed, even after just a little movement, like taking a shower or walking a few steps?"

"When you're working lately, do you experience short-term memory loss after reading less than five lines of text, completely forgetting what you've read?"

"Do you experience heart palpitations, shortness of breath, dizziness, and blurred vision after sitting for a long time or standing up, making even taking a standing shower a luxury?"

Chen Mingliang opened his mouth, but no sound came out.

“I’m not clear about your sleep patterns,” Zhao Xiaochui stared at him and sighed softly, “but based on your confirmed PEM, brain fog, and orthostatic intolerance symptoms, Mr. Chen, your current physical condition meets the criteria for disability.”

This seemingly casual remark caused Chen Mingliang's pupils to shrink sharply, and he stared at Zhao Xiaochui in disbelief.

As if the shock wasn't enough, Zhao Xiaochui continued in a calm tone to reveal an even crueler reality:
"If this continues, a strong middle-aged man like you will degenerate to the point where he is bedridden for more than 22 hours a day, unable to read, unable to stand up and shower, and unable to go out alone—a level of dependence comparable to that of a patient with severe heart failure or late-stage cancer. But what's scary is that you look no different from an ordinary person, so your family and colleagues will only think you are lazy or assume that you have a psychological problem."

One piercing word after another rained down, plunging the entire hall into a deathly silence.

(End of this chapter)