CH5

When I received the congratulatory call, I was truly delighted.

Although I had been published in my previous life, this felt different.

'I earned money!'

Yes, I was thrilled—at least until I received that first call.

"Young master, another newspaper has contacted you."

Hmm?

"Young master, this time it's from the opposite side of the political spectrum…"

Hmm.

"Young master? Just how many places did you submit to?"

I received no less than four calls that day!

So, I had won in two short story categories, a poetry category, and a literary critique—every category I submitted to.

I hadn't lived my life in vain.

Yes, a writer's experience doesn't go to waste!

But that joy was short-lived.

'Should I have moderated my efforts?'

Fearing I wouldn't get selected, I submitted to four different places… Who would have thought I'd win them all?

'Is this even okay?'

It would already be a big deal that Hyungang's third-generation heir had debuted.

What? A fourth grader? And a four-time winner?

'This is going to draw a lot of attention.'

I scratched my head in embarrassment.

***

That night.

I was summoned to Chairman Park's study with Song Soo-hee.

"Is what I heard true?"

In response to Park Yong-hak's question.

"Yes."

Song Soo-hee answered on my behalf.

"It's astonishing that a child wrote something, but it's even more astonishing that it won?"

"...."

"Not just by luck, but in four categories?"

Park Yong-hak's eyes sharpened.

Then his gaze settled on me.

"Reading books lately, you must have wanted a trophy. Did you ask adults to write for you?"

"No. I didn't ask any adults to write for me."

"Really?"

"Yes. And I didn't write just because I wanted a trophy."

His eyes seemed to ask why I wrote then.

"I wanted to earn money."

"What?"

"I happened to see that the prize money was quite substantial."

Maybe because it was about money, the wariness in Park Yong-hak's eyes seemed to soften a bit.

Thanks to that, I could continue speaking calmly.

"I thought, 'What do I have to lose?' I might as well give it a shot. The more pieces I submit, the higher my chances. Each newspaper has different tastes, so why not send them to different places?"

"So you thought hard about it in your own way?"

"Yes."

Park Yong-hak then adjusted his posture.

It seemed like he wanted to hear how much money I needed and why.

"I wanted to buy a painting."

"A painting?"

"I went to Seoul National University's art exhibition with Mom, and there was a painting I really liked."

"Did you plan to buy and sell it to make a profit?"

"No. I wanted to hang it in my room. I wanted to see it every morning and evening."

"You did all this for a painting in your room."

"What?"

"I mean, you didn't care about journalists coming over and making a fuss, you just did as you pleased."

If I were an 11-year-old child, I would have hung my head at this point.

Then, after some reflection, the prize money would quietly disappear.

Hanging my head and reflecting were fine, but…

'The prize money is mine.'

I spoke up to protect my money, no matter what anyone said.

"Journalists might come and make noise… but I didn't think they'd write bad articles."

"Why? Do you think journalists are that naïve?"

"It's not that… I thought even if they wrote negative articles, it wouldn't have much impact."

"Why not?"

"People would resent a rich kid for being good at studying, thinking it's because of all the money spent on them. But literature is different."

"...?"

"No matter how many books you're taught to read each month… people won't envy that. They might even praise us for valuing the arts. At the very least, I was sure there wouldn't be any finger-pointing."

"So, you knew it might cause a stir but sent it anyway?"

"To some extent. Though I didn't expect all four to win."

"…Ha!"

Park Yong-hak let out a short laugh of disbelief.

But that reaction was short-lived; he soon picked up the phone on his desk.

"Mr. Kim, call the newspapers and tell them to remove Ji-hoon's name from everything."

"...!"

"Reject, cancel, do whatever it takes to make sure our boy's name doesn't appear in any publications. Got it?"

After saying his piece, Park Yong-hak hung up the phone.

Gulp.

I thought I had conveyed my thoughts clearly.

In a chaebol family, not even a literary debut could go smoothly, it seemed.

'Even if the debut is a no-go, the prize money…'

As I reluctantly swallowed my disappointment, Park Yong-hak asked Song Soo-hee a question.

"Does Ji-hoon have a bank account in his name?"

"Yes, he does."

"Does he manage it himself?"

"No, I manage it."

He then turned his attention back to me.

"How much prize money did you win from all four?"

About 15 million won.

Too much for an 11-year-old to handle.

But then.

"I'll put that money into your account myself, so don't feel cheated out of the trophies."

Park Yong-hak said something completely unexpected!

He then told Song Soo-hee as well.

"Let him manage his own account from now on. Understand?"

"Father, no matter how you look at it… how can Ji-hoon handle that much money?"

"Don't be silly."

"Pardon?"

"He's earned a large sum at his age to buy a painting. Do you think he won't be able to manage his account?"

"...."

"And Ji-hoon."

From his tone, I thought I was about to receive a warning.

But his expression softened.

"I'll also add money for the painting separately, so don't worry about that."

"...?"

"After you buy the painting, bring it to me first. Understood?"

Oh!

Not only did I keep my money, but I also got a bonus!

"Thank you, Grandfather."

I bowed deeply to Park Yong-hak.

***

Shortly after leaving Chairman Park's study.

Song Soo-hee held my hand tightly.

Unlike Park Yong-hak, who looked down from above, she bent down to meet my eyes.

"Were you scared?"

"Of what?"

"Talking to Grandfather."

"Oh, it was fine."

"...?"

"Mom was right there. The strongest support in the world."

She might have thought I was forcing myself to be brave.

Song Soo-hee smiled bittersweetly.

"By the way, when did you write all those stories?"

"Reading so much made me want to try writing. I just imitated what I read, and I didn't expect to get selected."

"How did you feel when you heard you won?"

"Surprised. And happy."

"Do you plan to keep writing?"

"Well…"

Song Soo-hee waited for my answer with a serious expression.

As Hyungang's third-generation heir, even as the second son, there would be some level of obligation.

'Living leisurely as a writer wouldn't be easy.'

But that didn't matter to me.

Being born into a chaebol family, there's no need to write just to attract criticism!

Having sorted out my thoughts, I spoke calmly.

"Writing is fun. Maybe because I achieved something, it makes me fond of it. But… I still enjoy reading books more."

"Is it because of the family atmosphere?"

"Men handle management, and women pursue the arts?"

"If you're giving up your dreams because of the adults…"

"I'm still young."

"…Huh?"

"I'm having so much fun just reading books, so I can't help but wonder how enjoyable art and music would be. I think I should experience many things first and decide on my future afterward."

At that moment.

A small smile spread across Song Soo-hee's previously tense face.

"Looks like I was too impatient."

"Impatient?"

"My Ji-hoon seemed too mature, so I got impatient for no reason."

Hugging me, Song Soo-hee spoke slowly.

"Alright, Ji-hoon. There's no need to rush. Don't worry about anything… and let's experience many wonderful things."

"Thank you, Mom."

As our pleasant conversation was wrapping up.

I noticed a shadow standing in the hallway beyond the living room.

It was my older brother, Park Yoo-geon, looking at me with envious eyes.

***

Park Yoo-geon was a kind-hearted boy.

Contrary to the typical stereotypes of a chaebol heir being a troublemaker, he was far from that.

A boy who would run over to greet adults with a bow.

A boy who quietly gave his long-saved allowance to a friend in need.

Some might say.

That's only possible because he's a chaebol heir.

If I had that much money, I'd give away the extras too.

They wouldn't be entirely wrong.

But even chaebol heirs had their own hardships.

Everyone tried to use this boy.

He was the heir to Hyungang, after all.

People approached him with masks on, hoping for a piece of the pie.

As a result, he learned not to trust people.

Repeated betrayals and wounds only increased his vigilance.

But that wasn't his only struggle.

From the moment he was born as Hyungang's eldest son, every aspect of Yoo-geon's life was predetermined.

No one asked for his opinion.

He never had a choice to begin with.

Yoo-geon accepted such a fate calmly.

No, he resolved to do his best.

If he crumbled, this immense burden would fall on his brother next.

Every time that terrifying thought crossed his mind.

"...."

Yoo-geon sat at his desk without a word.

Hiding his own dreams deep within, he tried to live up to the expectations of others.

Then one day.

Yoo-geon saw his brother Ji-hoon's room.

A desk piled high with books he wanted to read instead of textbooks and workbooks.

He shouldn't have felt that way, but he was honestly jealous.

'What if I were born as the second son?'

For the first time, he had such thoughts.

If I were the second son, I would have listened to music like crazy.

Stevie Wonder, Marvin Gaye, Michael Jackson…

I would have flown to New York during vacation and lived in concert halls.

That happy thought was short-lived.

'Back to studying.'

Yoo-geon soon returned to reality.

Just as he was about to dive back into his studies.

He overheard an unexpected conversation.

His brother Ji-hoon had won the New Year's Literary Contest.

Startled, Yoo-geon ran out of his room.

He came out to congratulate him.

But.

"…If Ji-hoon is giving up his dreams because of the adults…"

When he overheard his mother's voice.

"...!"

Yoo-geon felt a dizzying sensation.

His brother was snuggled in their mother's arms.

'It's alright.'

The eldest son has an unavoidable burden.

Should a big brother envy his younger brother?

No matter how many times he repeated it to himself.

Tears welled up in Yoo-geon's eyes.