The next morning, Jin Run-ki pulled the car out himself to personally drive his son to Jeongsimjae.
"Do-jun, if it gets too hard… just apologize to your grandfather," said Lee Hae-in gently, her fingers brushing over her son's hair. Her eyes were bloodshot, dark circles deep and heavy. It was clear she hadn't slept all night, yet the love in her eyes burned stronger than any exhaustion.
To make kneeling more bearable, she had stayed up sewing all night, stitching a pair of pants with extra padding at the knees.
"Don't worry, Mom. I'll be fine."Do-jun lowered his head slightly, eyes misting.
Hang in there just a bit longer. Soon, you'll never have to worry again.
Because they weren't allowed inside, Run-ki could only drop Do-jun off at the gates.
"Young Master Do-jun, this way please."
Do-jun recognized the man who greeted him—Chief Lee, the man who managed Sunyang Group's finances. He was one of Jin Yang-chul's closest aides, a figure of deep trust.
Following behind him, Do-jun scanned his surroundings.
He was early. The others hadn't arrived yet.
Also, where were people like Lee Bi-ok? Out early this morning?
"Chairman, Do-jun has arrived."
"Send him in."
The voice from behind the doors was surprisingly warm.Not cold, not harsh—almost… friendly?
That wasn't right. Jin Yang-chul didn't do friendly.
Still, Do-jun entered the study without hesitation.
There, his grandfather stood smiling next to a finely crafted wooden horse.
"I am a man of fairness," Jin Yang-chul said. "You broke my porcelain, so you had to be punished. But since you took responsibility like a man… I reward that, too. Do you like this horse?"
A wave of memory hit Do-jun.
Back when he was five, his parents had brought him here to draw lots in front of the family—a kind of tradition. Instead of choosing anything laid out, he'd stubbornly pointed to a toy horse and said that's all he wanted.
They were mocked for it, ridiculed by the rest of the family.
And now… this was the same horse?
So he remembered that?
Do-jun looked at his grandfather, a theory forming.
Is this guilt?
Run-ki had lost the right of inheritance. Could it be Yang-chul was trying to compensate for his decision through Do-jun?
Let's test that theory then. Let's see just how far your guilt goes.
"Grandpa!" Do-jun called out.
"Hmm?"
"I like real horses more than toy ones. Ones that run freely in the grasslands!"
"…What did you say?" Yang-chul blinked.
"I mean, instead of toy cars, I'd rather have a real one."
The old man stared at his grandson, silence growing heavy.
Do-jun's heart began to pound. Did I go too far?
"You know what 'real' means, Do-jun?"
Time to improvise.
"Of course! Real things are the ones you make, Grandpa!"
"Didn't you make real TVs, ships, and cars? I want the ones you made!"
Jin Yang-chul furrowed his brows and leaned closer.
This was the best bluff Do-jun could think of. And it worked.
"To have real things," Yang-chul said slowly, "you'll have to go through a lot. Sacrifice, suffering, trials that would crush most men…"
He paused, then gestured at the toy horse.
"But if you just like fake ones, you won't have to go through any of that."
Trying to scare me?
Do-jun smiled. "That's okay. I like the real stuff. Is that okay, Grandpa?"
Yang-chul's lips curled. "Alright. You want a real horse?"
He pointed to the desk. "Get full marks in all subjects on your next exams… and I'll buy you one."
Then he added, "Of course, if you think that's too hard, I'll let you skip kneeling in the meeting. Just give up on the gift."
He folded his arms, clearly waiting for the boy to retreat in fear.
But—
"Deal. I'll get full marks."
Their eyes locked, both smiling—though for very different reasons.
If the family saw this, they'd be stunned. This is the same man who once banned Run-ki from speaking at the dinner table!
Soon, the others arrived.
Jin Yong-ki, Jin Dong-ki, Jin Yong-hwa, and Sung-joon entered the study.
By then, Do-jun was already kneeling, head bowed low.
The meeting began, focused on the shifting tides in the presidential race.
But having a child kneeling during this made everyone a bit uncomfortable.
Still, Do-jun didn't believe this was about humiliation. Yang-chul had something else in mind. After all, why would a corporate titan go out of his way to humiliate a ten-year-old?
Maybe it's a test.But if Sung-joon gets to sit in, does that mean he's still being considered for succession?
His thoughts were interrupted.
"Due to the current president stepping down, the political landscape is shifting. Three candidates remain. We need to decide who Sunyang will back."
Jin Yang-chul's voice was cold and sharp.
Yong-hwa spoke first.
"I believe Yong-sam has the strongest chance. He's popular and has shown support toward Sunyang."
She handled the department store and logistics divisions and had strong political ties—Yang-chul's go-to for political liaison.
He nodded for the sons to speak.
Yong-ki hesitated, as always. The man wasn't one for decisive words.
Dong-ki stepped in. "I think Yong-sam's friendliness is a front. He just wants to use us."
Yong-ki finally said, "Still, he has the public's support. I agree with Yong-hwa."
"But Jung Dae-jung has more experience," Dong-ki insisted. "He's politically stronger."
"Yong-sam's international academic background gives him an edge too," Yong-hwa added.
The debate heated up.
They weren't just talking politics anymore. Accusations flew. Who wasted company funds. Who failed which project.
This is getting ridiculous, Do-jun thought.
They were betting everything on two men who were destined to lose.
Fools. The real winner next month is Dae-woo!
If word got out that Sunyang backed the losers, Dae-woo could make them pay dearly.
And yet they fight over the wrong kings.
BANG!Yang-chul slammed his palm on the table.
"You think I brought you here to waste time on useless arguments?!"
Silence fell instantly.
He glanced briefly at Do-jun, noting the boy's stillness.
No cheating. No breaks. Still kneeling, motionless. Not even fidgeting.
He nodded approvingly.
"Enough. Let's move on. Yong-hwa, update me on the department store."
As each child reported, Yang-chul dissected their responses with frightening precision. He knew every problem before they spoke, cutting through their attempts to gloss things over.
So this is what high-level meetings feel like, Do-jun thought. Just listening is an education.
Finally, as the meeting ended and others bowed their way out, Yang-chul said calmly:
"You can stand now."
"Thank you, Grandpa."
Do-jun tried to rise, legs numb. He nearly collapsed, but a steady hand grabbed him.
Yang-chul.
"You're tougher than you look," he said.
"For hours, not a single twitch of discomfort. Most adults would've squirmed by now."
The compliment was rare. But Yang-chul was impressed. Truly impressed.
Then his eyes narrowed.
"But tell me… what changed you?"
Ah. Here it is.
"I couldn't endure it anymore," Do-jun muttered, rubbing his eyes with a pained look.
"What?"
"I kept quiet because people mocked my parents. But now... I'm too angry to stay quiet."
He clenched his fists, head bowed again.
His body shook slightly. Cry, cry, damn it! he screamed at himself.
And then—
Suddenly, Yang-chul knelt down on one knee and pulled him into a hug.
What the hell?
Do-jun froze.
He hadn't even delivered the full performance yet!
Did I just… trigger Grandpa's hidden compassion stat?
Yang-chul let out a deep sigh. Wordless, but heavy.
So Do-jun pressed harder.
"Please, be friends with all three candidates."
"What?"Yang-chul pulled back, hands on the boy's shoulders.
"What do you mean, all three?"
"Oh, just that… if they're all so great, shouldn't we be friends with all of them? That's what we do at school."
Yang-chul's expression was unreadable.
Of course, Do-jun couldn't exactly say, "They'll all become presidents someday!"
So he pushed the innocent act further.
"They're the best in the country, right? So if we're not sure who will win… wouldn't it be better to be friends with everyone?"
"Can't we?"
Yang-chul's lips twitched. Then he burst out laughing.
"Of course! The more friends, the better! Hahaha!"
That was his true belief. No wonder he hadn't spoken earlier during the sibling squabbles.
Eventually, the old man calmed down.
"Want to go out and play?"
A polite way of ending the conversation.
"I'll head out now, Grandpa."
As he walked away, Yang-chul casually asked,"So if this were a game… who would you bet on?"
"Always the third one," Do-jun replied instantly.
Yang-chul froze.
His hand trembled against the table.
The third candidate. Dae-woo.
The very name he had quietly decided on this morning.No one else knew yet.
And yet—his ten-year-old grandson had guessed it?
Everyone else was obsessed with the first two. Only Do-jun pointed out the true dark horse.
"Oh? Why's that?"
Yang-chul squinted, searching the boy's face for fear or a lie.
But there was none.
"It's simple," Do-jun said. "If the top two fight too hard, the third one always benefits."
"Even in school. If the top students campaign for class president, no one wants to choose between them forever. They'll get tired. And then… the quiet third place wins."
"But what if the top two join forces?"
"A team built on rivalry? It'll collapse!"
Yang-chul tasted the phrase on his tongue. "Collapse…"
He nodded slowly, eyes gleaming.
Do-jun continued, "And if they fight too much, their supporters will split. No one will know who to side with. That's when the third guy swoops in."
Just three days from the election, and it felt like a child was dictating the nation's future with schoolyard analogies.
No, not a child… A genius.
A true prodigy, born into the Jin family.
And at that moment, for the first time…
Jin Yang-chul looked at Do-jun with genuine affection.
"So… if he wins, what do you want as a reward?"
Do-jun grinned.
"Something better than a horse, Grandpa."
(End of Chapter)