The village was small.
Not the kind you see in postcards—
not perfect, not peaceful.
But alive.
In the mornings, a thin mist rested over the fields.
By evening, children filled the dusty roads with laughter, playing games until the sky turned orange.
Everyone knew everyone.
And in that village…
names mattered.
Families mattered.
And one family stood out more than the rest.
The Kang Family.
Not because they were rich.
Not because they held power.
But because they were large…
and complicated.
At the center of it all was Kang Doo-Shik.
A man respected by many—
and quietly judged by some.
Because he had two wives.
His first wife, Han Soon-Hee, had given him five children.
His second wife, Park Ok-Ja, had given him three.
Two families.
One house.
Two worlds… forced to exist together.
There were tensions.
Unspoken comparisons.
Silent competitions.
But despite all that—
something unexpected brought everyone together.
A child.
The first grandson
of the second wife's side.
Kang Min-Jae.
From the moment he was born—
everything changed.
"Look at him… he's already smiling."
"What a bright child."
"He's going to bring luck to this house."
At first, they were just words.
But slowly…
they became belief.
Min-Jae rarely cried.
Instead—
he laughed.
And as he grew older…
that never changed.
He ran barefoot through the narrow streets,
his laughter echoing louder than his footsteps.
He would fall—
scrape his knees—
and still laugh as if nothing had happened.
Neighbors adored him.
"Min-Jae!" they would call out.
He would run to them without hesitation.
They gave him candy.
Patted his head.
Asked him to smile.
And he always did.
Because for him—
the world was simple.
If someone called him, he went.
If someone smiled, he smiled back.
If someone loved him—
he loved them even more.
He didn't understand hatred.
He didn't understand fear.
He was just…
light.
At home—
he was treated like a prince.
His grandmother, Park Ok-Ja, would gently hold his cheeks.
"You are the reason this house feels alive," she would say.
His mother, Lee Eun-Kyung, even when exhausted from endless responsibilities, would find strength just by looking at him.
Her tired eyes would soften.
Her voice would become gentle.
And his father…
Kang Hyun-Soo—
back then—
was not the man he would later become.
He smiled.
He carried Min-Jae on his shoulders.
He laughed loudly.
For a while…
he was a father worth loving.
The house wasn't perfect.
There were arguments.
There were differences between the two sides of the family.
But whenever Min-Jae ran into a room—
everything seemed to pause.
Even anger softened.
Even pride stepped aside.
Because of him—
for a brief moment—
they were not two families.
They were one.
And Min-Jae never realized it.
He didn't know he was holding something fragile.
Something temporary.
He didn't know—
that this warmth…
this love…
this feeling of being wanted—
Would not last.
Because light…
doesn't disappear all at once.
It fades.
Slowly.
Quietly.
And this—
was only the beginning.