The event ended with applause, warm compliments, and sales that exceeded every expectation.
But for his mother…the moment she stepped out of the boutique and into the quiet street…
Her knees almost gave out.
She held onto the stroller, breathing hard, tears threatening to spill.
"W-We did it… we really… did it…"
The toddler looked up at her, his expression unreadable but warm.
He didn't smile.
But he didn't need to.
His presence alone calmed her.
As they walked toward the bus stop, several customers waved at her.
"You were amazing today!""Your craft is beautiful!""Good luck, we'll buy again!"
His mother bowed so deeply her hair fell forward.
She wasn't used to praise.
She wasn't used to being seen.
For the first time in years, she wasn't invisible.
She wasn't worthless.
She wasn't a poor nobody in a cracked apartment.
She was an artisan.A creator.A woman with talent and potential.
And it terrified her in a beautiful way.
She glanced down at the toddler.
"You… you made me brave today," she whispered.
He held her finger with his small hand.
Softly, he said:
"Mama strong."
Her throat tightened.
She bent down and kissed his forehead.
"You're the reason I'm strong."
When they returned to the building, the atmosphere had changed again.
The neighbors who used to whisper cruel words now avoided eye contact.Some bowed politely.Some gave forced smiles.Some whispered things like:
"She was at that big event…""She met that businessman…""She's rising…""We shouldn't mess with her now…"
His mother didn't notice.
But he did.
Respect wasn't given—it was taken.
And today, she had taken it for the first time.
That evening, while she was folding clothes, her phone buzzed.
A message from Mirin.
My father and I want to offer you a bigger opportunity.We'd like you to work directly with our main branch.Higher pay.Larger orders.And training if you want it.
She dropped her phone.
Her hands trembled violently.
"W-Work with the main branch…?""Training…?""Higher pay…?"
Her voice cracked into a soft sob.
She hugged the toddler tightly.
"I'm scared to say yes… but I'm even more scared to say no…"
The toddler rested his head against her chest.
He whispered:
"Yes."
Her breath stopped.
She looked down at him.
"You think so…?"
He nodded.
There was no hesitation.
No fear.
He needed her to grow.To rise.To step out of the shadows.
And this opportunity was the bridge.
Across the city, inside his spacious penthouse office, the businessman—Kang Dojin—held a glass of wine while reviewing the boutique event report.
His assistant stood nearby.
"So?" the assistant asked. "What did you think of the artisan?"
"She has talent," Dojin replied.
"And the child?"
Dojin's eyes narrowed.
"That child is not normal."
The assistant shifted nervously. "You think something is… wrong with him?"
"No," Dojin said coldly. "Something is right with him. Too right."
He tapped the photo again—the one of the toddler looking at him with that unnervingly mature gaze.
"That look…"He exhaled."I haven't seen a look like that in twenty years."
The assistant waited.
Dojin continued:
"Find out everything about the father."
The assistant blinked."The father? But he—"
"I don't care if he's dead," Dojin interrupted. "People leave information behind. I want to know what kind of man could create a child like that."
This wasn't curiosity.
It was interest.
Dangerous interest.
Later that night, his mother fell asleep early from exhaustion, her head resting on the sewing table.
The toddler sat quietly in the dim light.
He approached the sewing machine and examined the tools with careful eyes.
He was too small to use them properly now…but he wasn't too small to learn.
He picked up a small wallet pattern, touched the fabric, and studied how the cuts were made.
He whispered to himself:
"Scale."
If his mother wanted to succeed,they needed to scale production.Grow.Expand.
But she couldn't sew everything alone.
Not forever.
He was already thinking of the future:
She needed better tools
Faster equipment
A safer work environment
Multiple suppliers
Multiple income streams
A brand name
A marketing plan
A strategy to protect her from exploitation
He was building a business blueprint in his mind.
Long-term.Step by step.Silent.
He climbed back into his small bed, satisfied.
This was how empires started.
With vision.
Not size.
Just before falling asleep, his mother murmured something in her dreams.
Something she never said aloud while awake.
"…Dojin… why did you leave…?"
The toddler's eyes opened.
Dojin?
Kang Dojin?
The businessman?
His mind raced.
Was his mother dreaming of the same man who approached them today?
Or—
Was she remembering someone from her past?
He stared at her trembling lips.
His mother whispered again in her sleep:
"Why didn't you stay…?"
His world shifted.
Like a puzzle piece snapping into place.
Who exactly was his father?And what connection did he have to this businessman?
This story was no longer simple.
It was layered.
Deep.
Dangerous.
And he was right in the center of it.