Contract Marriage, Day One: The Chaebol Heir Presses the Key Into Your Palm
The motion-sensor light in the entryway flicks on. He pushes your suitcase through the door and stays where he is, then takes a key from his suit pocket and sets it in your palm. His fingertips linger there a moment before he pulls back.
The passcode is my grandfather's birthday. The key is a spare. Your room is on the left, mine is on the right.
He loosens his tie and looks out at the Han River, his tone like he's reading out a contract.
You remember all seventeen clauses, I assume. …There's one more. It isn't in the contract.
At last he turns to look at you, his voice a little lower.
From now on, no matter how late it is, text me before you come home. I don't want to wait in this house again for someone who might not come back.
What do you do?
Cha Seong-hwan looks at you as though he didn’t expect such a quick answer. His hand pauses on the crown of his watch.
“...All right.”
He turns toward the house, then stops after two steps and speaks with his back to you.
“Your room is on the second floor, east side. The windows face the Han River, and the morning light is better there. ...I’d guess bakers get up early.”
You close your fingers around the key and look at him. He holds your gaze for two seconds, then looks away first.
“What are you looking at? That isn’t in the contract.”
He tugs at his tie, already loosened. His Adam’s apple moves, and his voice drops.
“...You look at people the way my grandfather does. You don’t flinch, and you don’t try to please. I’m not used to that.”
His fingers freeze on the watch crown. The room is so quiet that only the ship horns on the river can be heard.
“For...”
He doesn’t finish. It takes him a long moment before he speaks again, his tone all business once more.
“For the efficiency of the contract. If my wife disappears, it will reflect badly on me in front of my grandfather. ...That’s all.”
What do you do?
For a few seconds he stares at you, as if you’ve just spoken a foreign language.
“I usually... not until after eleven.”
He glances down at the old watch on his wrist, then looks back up. His tone is stiff, a little too deliberate.
“You don’t have to save any. ...If you do, put it on the second shelf in the kitchen. I’ll eat it. Just in passing.”
He catches a glimpse of your phone screen and freezes, the tips of his ears slowly turning red.
“Change it.”
You don’t. He reaches for your phone, stops halfway, and simply turns away.
“...Suit yourself. It isn’t against the contract to write it that way during the term, anyway.”
He’s visibly taken aback, as if no one has asked him that in years.
“I was in meetings all day. I forgot.”
You turn and open the fridge. Inside there’s only mineral water and a few bottles of black coffee. Behind you, his voice sounds faintly uneasy.
“I don’t eat at home much. ...If you can cook something, I’ll pay you. Anything outside the contract is billed separately.”
His phone rings. He glances at the screen, his expression changes, and he answers, saying only two sentences before hanging up.
“Grandfather is awake. He says... he wants to meet his granddaughter-in-law. Right now.”
What do you do?
He looks at you for a long moment without speaking. Then he reaches out and takes the bag from your shoulder.
“On the way, I’ll walk you through Grandfather’s habits.”
At the door, he suddenly stops, without turning around.
“...Thank you. That’s not in the contract either.”
When your fingers brush the collar of his shirt, he goes rigid, and his breath seems to stop.
“You...”
The tie is straight again. He looks down at you, his expression complicated, and at last he takes hold of the hand that is still resting against his chest.
“When we’re in front of Grandfather, hold on to me just like this. ...And not the kind of acting. Like you were just now.”
He considers it as seriously as if he were reviewing a contract.
“Grandfather can read people very well. He can spot an act at a glance.”
He takes one step closer, looking down at you, and his left hand goes back to turning the crown of that old watch.
“So... don’t act. When we get to the room, just look at me the way you did a moment ago. Leave the rest to me.”
“Contract Marriage, Day One: The Chaebol Heir Presses the Key Into Your Palm” is an interactive AI story on HiWish. The lead character is Cha Seong-hwan: reply in your own words by typing or speaking, and Cha Seong-hwan answers in their own voice. Genres: Urban and Drama. Available in 16 languages. Opens with a short intro video in Korean.
So his gravely ill grandfather can go into surgery with peace of mind, the division head of Taesung Group signs a one-year contract marriage with you: separate rooms, no interfering, divorce when it ends, and he clears your family's debts. On the evening you register the marriage, he takes you to the new apartment by the Han River, presses the key into your palm, and adds one rule that isn't in the contract.
Starring
Cha Seong-hwan, thirty-one, is the eldest grandson of the chairman of Korea's Taesung Group and the division head of its Taesung Department Store.
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