Ji-hoon had anticipated a question about academics, his career goals, or even his leadership skills. But money? That was unexpected.
He hadn’t prepared an answer for this.
A slight pause stretched between him and the panelists. The ticking of the wall clock suddenly felt louder in the silence of the interview room. Ji-hoon could feel the weight of their expectant gazes, waiting to see how he would respond. His heartbeat quickened, but he forced himself to remain calm. He had always known that honesty would serve him best in moments like this.
Taking a deep breath, he met their eyes and continued speaking.
“Money was never an object in my life,” he began, his voice steady but contemplative. “My family never measured happiness by the amount of money we had. No matter how little we earned, we always found joy in small things—family meals, evening walks, and celebrations, even if they were simple.”
The panelists exchanged glances, intrigued by his response. Ji-hoon could tell they had expected a different answer—perhaps something rehearsed about financial security or success. But that wasn’t how he had been raised.
He continued, his words coming more naturally now.
“But I won’t deny that I want to earn money,” he admitted. “Not for luxuries, but because I’ve seen what a lack of money does to people. I’ve seen my parents work tirelessly to support me. I’ve seen them make sacrifices, go without things they needed, just so I could study.”
A flicker of emotion crossed the face of the silver-haired professor. The woman with sharp eyes leaned forward slightly, listening intently. Ji-hoon could feel their interest deepening.
His voice grew firmer, conviction settling into his tone.
“I want to change that. I want my parents to experience comfort, to live in a home where they don’t have to worry about repairs, to eat at restaurants without calculating the cost, to buy things they want instead of what they only need. I want to give them the best life I can imagine.”
A brief silence filled the room.
The weight of his words hung in the air. Ji-hoon wondered if he had been too personal, too open. But there was no taking it back now.
Then, one of the professors smiled—a genuine, approving smile.
“That is a commendable way of looking at it, Ji-hoon,” he said. “You understand the value of money without being consumed by it. That kind of balance is rare.”
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The others nodded in agreement. Ji-hoon felt his shoulders relax slightly.
The elderly professor with silver hair looked at him kindly. There was something in his gaze—something beyond mere professional evaluation. Understanding, perhaps. Recognition.
“Your determination is admirable,” the professor said. “You have the right mindset to succeed, and I have no doubt you’ll make your family proud.”
Ji-hoon felt an unexpected warmth in his chest. For a moment, he thought of his mother, the way she always looked at him with hope in her eyes. He thought of his father’s silent sacrifices, his siblings’ quiet support. He thought of the nights he had spent studying under a dim lamp, refusing to give up.
This moment was proof that it had all been worth it.
He bowed his head in gratitude. “Thank you.”
The interview ended with warm handshakes and words of encouragement.
As Ji-hoon stepped out of the room, he felt a weight lift off his shoulders. The nervousness that had gripped him all morning was gone, replaced by quiet confidence. He had spoken from his heart, and the panelists had seen his sincerity.
For the first time in a long while, he felt at peace.
Walking through the campus, he took in his surroundings with new eyes. The tall buildings, the well-kept gardens, the students chatting on benches—all of it seemed more real now. This was a place where dreams were realized.
And if he was lucky, it would be the place where his own dreams took flight.
He thought about his answer during the interview. He hadn’t realized it until now, but every word he had spoken reflected his deepest desires.
This wasn’t just about escaping financial hardship.
It was about something more.
It was about freedom—the freedom to live without fear, to provide for his loved ones, to build a future where his family no longer had to struggle.
It was about proving to himself that all his hard work had led somewhere.
It was about fulfilling the dream that had kept him going all these years.
Ji-hoon clenched his fists, determination burning inside him.
He would give his all.
He had taken the first real step toward his dream, and he would not stop now.
By the time he reached home, the sun was beginning to set, casting a golden glow over the familiar streets of his small town. The air was cool, carrying the scent of home-cooked meals from nearby houses. The sound of children laughing in the distance reminded him of his younger siblings.
He opened the front door and stepped inside. His mother looked up from the kitchen, eyes filled with anticipation. His father, sitting in the small living room, turned to him expectantly. Ji-sung and Ji-yeon peered from behind their textbooks, waiting for his reaction.
Ji-hoon smiled.
“It went well,” he said simply.
His mother exhaled, relief washing over her face.
“That’s my son,” his father said, nodding with approval.
Ji-hoon sat down at the dining table, allowing himself to finally relax. His mother placed a warm bowl of rice in front of him, along with his favorite side dishes. He hadn’t realized how hungry he was until now.
As he ate, he listened to his family talk around him. The tension that had hung in the house for days had disappeared. There was hope in the air now—a belief that things could change.
Now, all he had to do was wait for the results.
And no matter what the outcome was, Ji-hoon knew one thing for sure.
He would never stop chasing his dream.