Taehyung, an orphan and mischievous young boy, fell in love at first sight with Jeon Jeongguk, promising that one day he would marry him.
Years later, Taehyung enrolls at Seoul National University, where his life intertwines with Jeongguk, a literat...
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Jimin's childhood was far from glorious. It was steeped in pain and loss. He had no memory of his mother—she passed away when he was barely three or four, taken by an illness that, according to his father, might have been treated had they not been so poor.
Poor. The word always felt strange to Jimin. He had heard it countless times, but it was a concept he never truly understood. They lived in a crumbling shack in one of the most destitute parts of Seoul, where even his school was surrounded by the same poverty. To him, this was normal. Didn’t everyone live like this?
Jimin was eight when his father fell ill with tuberculosis, leaving them to starve for days on end. Each day blurred into the next, more unbearable than the last, as the weight of hunger settled in their bones.
He never really knew what his father did for work, only that he earned just enough for them to scrape by on two small meals a day. Now, with the sickness, even that meager sustenance had slipped away.
"Jimin, my son," his father’s voice broke the silence one evening as Jimin sat quietly, bent over his homework.
"Yes, Dad?" Little Jimin turned his full attention to the man, surprised to see him home early. His father had finally returned to work after being bedridden for days.
"Come with me. I want to take you somewhere." His father extended his hand, the gesture almost hesitant.
"Are we going to the park?" Jimin’s eyes lit up as he jumped from his chair, excitement dancing across his face. But as Park Junghyun looked into his son's bright eyes, a deep sadness washed over him.
"No," Junghyun muttered, swallowing hard to push down the emotion rising in his throat. "You’re going to work."
"Work?" Jimin's eyes widened with surprise. "Am I an adult now? But Dad, you always said kids shouldn’t work!" A bright smile spread across his face, the idea of being grown-up thrilling him.
"And what kind of work will I do, Dad?" he asked eagerly, his voice brimming with enthusiasm. But the weight on Junghyun’s heart grew heavier.
"You'll be doing cleaning work, Jimin. Washing dishes, wiping dust... simple tasks," his father replied softly, his tone drenched in sorrow. He never wanted this for his son—his precious boy was meant for greater things. He should be studying, chasing dreams, not scrubbing dishes like him. But hunger had found a permanent home in their shack, and Junghyun had no choice.
Today, when Park Junghyun returned to the Kim villa, the butler’s face hardened upon seeing him. His voice was cold and threatening as he warned Junghyun that he was on the verge of being fired. But when the butler learned of Junghyun’s illness, the situation quickly escalated.
As the commotion grew, Kim Hae Ja, the lady of the house, appeared. Park Junghyun, desperate, fell to his knees before her, his pride crumbling as he begged. "Please don’t take my job away," he pleaded, his voice thick with desperation. "I have a son to feed—he’s only eight." He knew all too well that kindness rarely dwelled in the hearts of the rich, and Kim Hae Ja was no exception.
