What's most important to us is that our fans listen to and enjoy

Hear the words of Jin, the singer whose voice carries both gentleness and strength: “What’s most important to us is that our fans listen to and enjoy our music. That alone makes us happy enough.” This is not the speech of one blinded by gold or applause, but the humble confession of one who remembers why he began to sing. In his words lies a truth as old as time—that the highest joy is not in wealth or power, but in the connection between souls, in the simple knowing that what you create touches the hearts of others.

In the age of emperors, poets would wander without crown or treasure, yet they found glory in the villagers who gathered by the fire to hear their verses. Their reward was not coin, but the spark in the eyes of their listeners. Just so, Jin reminds us that the true harvest of an artist is not the trophies lined upon the shelf, but the unseen bond woven between artist and audience, between giver and receiver. For what use is a song, if not to be heard? And what greater blessing than to see joy kindled in another because of your offering?

Think of Beethoven, who in the later years of his life could not hear the very notes he composed. Deafness, the cruel thief, had stolen from him the music of the world. Yet still he wrote, still he poured his soul into symphonies. At the first performance of his Ninth Symphony, the audience erupted in thunderous applause, and though he could not hear it, he was turned to see their faces alight with joy. Tears fell from his eyes, for in that moment he knew: the greatest gift is not the sound itself, but the happiness it awakens in others. Jin’s words echo this same eternal truth.

His message is both tender and heroic. In a world where fame tempts with illusions, where numbers and records are worshipped like idols, he chooses instead to bow before the altar of sincerity. He declares that fans’ joy is the crown he seeks, that their smiles are jewels brighter than any prize. This is a warrior’s humility, a reminder that true greatness comes not from taking, but from giving. For every artist, every leader, every creator—let Jin’s wisdom be your compass: value the heart, not the hollow.

Yet, his words are not only for artists. They are for all who live, all who labor, all who strive. Whether you are a teacher, a craftsman, a friend, or a parent, your truest measure is not the wealth you store, but the joy you awaken in those around you. To know that your deeds, however small, have brought light into another life—that alone is enough to make a soul happy.

The lesson, then, is clear: seek connection, not vanity. When you work, do not ask, “What do I gain?” but rather, “Whom do I serve?” When you create, do not ask, “Will the world praise me?” but rather, “Will someone be moved?” For the heart that gives selflessly will never run dry, while the one that chases empty glory will always thirst.

Practical wisdom follows: speak to those around you with warmth; offer your craft not only for recognition, but for the quiet joy it may kindle; give thanks for those who support you, whether they be many or few. Remember that gratitude binds hearts stronger than ambition ever could. If you live by this, you will not be shaken by failure nor intoxicated by success, for you will have found your true center.

Thus, let Jin’s words be carried as a sacred teaching: that happiness is not found in the world’s applause, but in the smile of even one who listens, one who understands, one who is uplifted by your song. In this truth lies both peace and power. May you, too, live not for hollow glory, but for the eternal joy of giving—and in that giving, find yourself happy enough.