The 7-Day Contract (Completed Main Story) - Chapter 5
I knocked quite firmly, yet the quietly closed door showed no reaction whatsoever.
Da Jung licked her parched lips and raised her hand again to knock—just then, the previously silent door swung open abruptly.
A man in a loose T-shirt and shorts stared straight at her, as if asking what she wanted.
Even a fleeting glance felt scorching, so Da Jung quickly averted her eyes.
“…I came here.”
“What?”
“I said, I came to get my car. The one I… lost.”
The man, who had been standing perfectly still, twitched his eyebrows.
“Wait.”
The door closed. Moments later, when it reopened, the man somehow seemed even taller than before.
“Here.”
He held something out, dangling it from his long fingers—an opaque black plastic bag that seemed to conceal an enormous secret.
Da Jung gingerly accepted the bag and peeked inside.
There, crumpled unceremoniously within, lay an unmistakably childish pair of panties covered in tiny bear faces—undoubtedly the very ones she had lost.
She’d realized the underwear was missing early that morning while gathering toiletries to head to the shower room.
Only later did she recall dropping something in front of the shower room the night before—but she’d assumed the landlady had long since cleaned it up during her rounds.
Embarrassed to pry around about the whereabouts of her missing undergarments, she’d deliberately avoided searching for them, never imagining they’d wind up in this man’s possession.
The black plastic bag crinkled softly as it shyly crumpled in Da Jung’s hands.
Her face burned. Despite reapplying lip balm multiple times, her lips still felt like they were charring away.
“Th-thank you.”
“For what.”
He replied indifferently. She fidgeted as if still having something left to say, then wet her dry lips with her tongue.
“You got more to say?”
“Huh?”
Da Jung swallowed a groan. Every time they met, she’d just blurt out “Huh?” like some pathetic idiot—enough to drive her insane.
She’d resolved to speak confidently and assertively, but it wasn’t going as planned.
Though introverted, she hadn’t always been like this. In studies and work, she’d always been bold and self-assured.
True, never having dated anyone her age certainly contributed to her inexperience—but standing before this man specifically made her unbearably shy.
Determined not to act foolishly, Da Jung steeled herself and answered resolutely:
“Yes!”
The man, who had been watching her for a moment, widened his eyes as if utterly baffled.
Good grief. Earlier he’d acted like he knew everything without her saying a word, and now he feigned ignorance. Exasperated, Da Jung squeezed her eyes shut.
“…A—a week! In a week, I’m leaving here!”
“So?”
“So, here’s the thing! For just one week….”
She couldn’t bring herself to finish and instead bit down hard on her lips.
She’d practiced Sol Yi’s advice hundreds of times, yet the next words simply refused to leave her mouth.
“One week of what?”
Growing impatient, the man prompted her. Da Jung released her bitten lips and blurted out:
“Will you… be my boyfriend!”
“…….”
The man said nothing. Nor did his expression shift in any noticeable way.
After observing her in silence for a long while, he finally pushed the door wide open and spoke magnanimously:
“Come in.”
The situation progressed far more simply than expected, leaving her flustered—but cautiously, Da Jung stepped inside.
Once the door shut, he gently nudged her against it. His breath cascaded over the crown of her head, his body pressing close enough to block her view entirely.
“What do you want to do?”
“Be, be my boyfriend….”
He hummed softly, his voice resonating in his throat before moving his lips to her ear.
“But you’ll get sick eating just anything.”
His warning tone vibrated in her ear—yet in that moment, Da Jung heard nothing at all.
“How… do I seem to you?”
She blurted out the line she’d silently rehearsed countless times—though it came out more like a non sequitur. Again, the man remained silent.
After intently studying her sun-kissed, flushed cheeks and gentle eyes, he suddenly let out a soft chuckle. A breath, almost like laughter, teased her temples.
She’d expected this. A man like him couldn’t possibly feel attracted to someone as plain as herself.
“…Ah, I know. Men prefer glamorous, beautiful women. I’m fully aware I’m not particularly pretty. But—”
“You’re pretty.”
“Huh?”
His lips, which had been silently meeting hers, moved again.
“I said you’re pretty. Like a foxtail.”
At first, she’d vaguely interpreted his odd gaze and actions as simply unpleasant—but now she understood.
Looking at her stirred something strangely ticklish—like being teased by a foxtail. That unfamiliar, tingling sensation wasn’t unpleasant at all.
In fact, it felt good—thrilling, heart-pounding, exhilarating.
Unable to think of what else to say, Da Jung bit down on her lips.
She wasn’t sure whether comparing someone to a foxtail was appropriate—but one thing was certain:
This was precisely the kind of moment people meant when they talked about hormones kicking in.
His long fingers loosely gathered her tousled hair.
“You’re pretty. You.”
“Then… be my boyfriend. Just for the remaining week….”
“I already told you—you’ll get sick.”
“We’re both adults, fully capable of taking responsibility for our own lives.”
Da Jung declared confidently, then forced an awkward smile.
“So—strictly one week. We’ll go on dates, eat delicious food, and also….”
Before she could finish, the man chuckled softly.
“Sounds good.”
“Right?”
His positive reaction softened the previously tense atmosphere considerably.
“But I plan to spend the entire week locked in this room with my girlfriend.”
His voice sensually brushed her ear, provoking a fierce hormonal response. Da Jung stared into his calm eyes and gulped.
“…That sounds good too.”
His large hand pulled her waist closer as his lips grazed her temples and eyelids.
Her heart pounded wildly at the sensual breath teasing her skin.
The sensation was foreign and unfamiliar—yet not unpleasant. No—she liked it. Her heart raced, fluttering as if ready to burst.
When his gentle hand encircled her nape, Da Jung’s breath caught.
A sultry heat surged as he stroked the delicate, pulsing skin.
Eventually, as his intoxicating breath enveloped her lips, Da Jung squeezed her eyes shut.
He woke with a finger resting against his eye—only to find the woman gone.
Stretching languidly, he rose from bed and stepped over discarded clothes strewn like shed skins.
Upon opening the wallet left on the table, his eyebrows lifted slightly.
Her passport, watch, and cash inside the wallet remained untouched. Aside from the woman herself, nothing was missing.
After throwing on some clothes, he descended to the lobby.
After exchanging a few words with the host, he stepped outside, squinted against the sunlight, and lit a cigarette.
“She bolted.”
She’d said a week—but the woman vanished after just one night.
Smoking a cigarette for the first time in a long while, his vision spun.
Still half-dazed, he slowly rubbed his nape with his palm—the faint memory of her lips brushing against him resurfaced.
Spending the night with her had been wholly impulsive.
True, her clumsy antics had unmistakably flirted with temptation—and yes, he’d willingly played along.
He held no regrets. His body might indulge, but his emotions remained untouched—a rule he’d never broken.
What puzzled him, though, was this: If she hadn’t stolen anything, why slip away without a word?
Generally, women who disappeared like this on trips all followed the same pattern: money or valuables. He’d gladly have handed them over if asked—but most preferred to steal instead.
Of course, he hadn’t suspected her. Her innocent, honest demeanor—and the way she’d seriously fretted over such a trivial meal bill—clearly marked her as different.
Or was it? Was she truly pure and naive—or just cunning beneath the surface?
“What is it…”
He muttered to himself, exhaling a long plume of smoke—just as his phone vibrated in his pocket.
After blankly staring at the screen for a moment, he pressed the call button and held the hard device to his ear.
“What?”
“You rascal! How many days has it been since you last answered my calls? You’re giving your old granny quite the headache!”
The elderly voice crackled over the line. He let out a small sigh and mumbled like a fussy child:
“I’m sleepy. Hang up.”
“Why did you ditch Director Han at the airport? Why abandon the perfectly decent hotel he booked and hole yourself up somewhere else! Are you eating three proper meals a day?”
He sighed deeply.
“I ditched Director Han because he was annoying, I’m holed up somewhere quiet, and yes—I’ve been eating three meals a day.”
What had he even expected? Whether naive or cunning, a woman was still a woman. From the start, women were simply not to be trusted.
“Grandmother.”
“…?”
“I’ve entered into a contract.”
“You rascal! Didn’t I tell you *never* to sign anything carelessly!”
Nothing was missing. So if she hadn’t stolen anything—why vanish without a word?
The questions piled up, one after another. Why break her promised timeframe and disappear without even leaving a note?
Was she disappointed after spending the night? Had it not met her expectations?
Suddenly, he snorted with disbelief.
Impossible. The mere fact he’d even doubted her irritated him.
She was far too inexperienced for terms like “disappointment” or “satisfaction” to apply. Her kiss had been so awkward he’d internally debated whether he was even allowed to proceed freely.
“She said a week—but bolted after just one day.”
“Bolted? Who?”
“This constitutes breach of contract. Should I file a lawsuit?”
“I’ll handle it—just tell me the name of this person!”
“I don’t know. That’s why I’m annoyed.”
He meant it. He was so irritated he wanted to grab someone—anyone—and tear them apart.
“Boy, what on earth are you even saying?”
“Hang up.”
After languidly ending the call, he shoved the heavy device back into his pocket.
He frowned against the scattered sunlight.
「YOO」
All he knew about the woman was that single name left in the guest registry.
A mellow ballad played softly in the quiet café.
Though five tables sat completely empty, Da Jung couldn’t sit still—instead, she paced restlessly around the space.
Amid the tense wait, the jingling doorbell sounded startlingly loud.
Sol Yi burst through the door in a fluster, grabbed Da Jung’s hand, and dragged her straight to the restroom.
“Just in case, I bought three different types.”
Sol Yi pulled a crinkling bag from her apron pocket and discreetly handed it over, gently pushing Da Jung toward the restroom.
“Hurry, hurry!”
“What should I do? What do I do?”
Da Jung stomped her feet helplessly, her expression that of someone being forced into battle.
A little over a month had passed since returning from Spain—and yet her monthly visitor still hadn’t shown.
She’d believed Sol Yi: that what happened in Spain could simply be buried as a distant memory.
What on earth had possessed her? That night could only be explained as a complete lapse in sanity.
She’d sunk into deep slumber—only to wake at dawn and find the man sleeping beside her, leaving her utterly horrified.
The unfamiliar sensations lingering across her body confirmed that last night’s memories were no dream.
Da Jung was certain she’d been utterly spellbound.
It was as if, during mating season, a female had instinctively lured a male with strong genes—driven purely by primal instinct, she’d acted like a wild animal.
She simply didn’t have the courage to face him when he woke.
Only later did she finally gather her wits—fleeing back to her room like a fugitive, hastily packing her bags and sprinting to the airport.
She’d thought it was over—they’d never meet again—but she was wrong.
“What do you mean ‘what to do’? Just test first.”
The moment Sol Yi ushered Da Jung into the restroom, she pressed her ear against the door.
“Well? Yoo Da Jung! Say something! Your friend’s about to pass out. Huh?”
Moments later, the tightly shut restroom door opened.
Da Jung emerged, gripping three pregnancy tests tightly, her face pale as she swayed unsteadily, one hand pressed to her forehead.
“Well? What does it say?”
Desperate for an answer, Sol Yi snatched the sticks and checked them one by one—her mouth fell agape.
“Hey, Yoo Da Jung. You…”
“This is all your fault! Hic!”
Though she was the one who’d behaved like an animal, Da Jung blamed poor Sol Yi instead. Sol Yi gaped at her in disbelief.
“Listen to this girl. I told you to *date*, not *mate*! You beast! Don’t you even know *why* birth control exists?”
“No, no! It’s not true…!”
Da Jung collapsed onto the floor, flailing helplessly. She truly wanted to cry from sheer injustice.
It couldn’t be. No matter how driven by desire she’d been, she hadn’t neglected preparation—and in fact, the man himself had been far more meticulous about precautions.
She’d followed every measure she knew to perfection—flawlessly, without a single oversight.
Then why?!
When scheming men desperately battle for her favor in the male harem
This one’s also on my reread list! The rivalry, scheming between the men in the imperial harem are just as intense and thrilling as in classic palace drama novels, where concubines fight to the death. Give it a read, girls! I promise you won’t be disappointed.
Synopsis:
“I am not worthy of her… but I still want to be by her side, even if only as a loyal dog…”
Those were the painful whispers of Yue Guanyi – the proud Crown Prince of the Great Qi, who was torn between deep love and a guilty conscience. Despite holding the supreme power of the Imperial Guard, he still could not forget the dark past when he was sold into a brothel.
Fate played a cruel twist when Qiu Shuzhi – a young female official who had just passed the imperial examinations with top honors – stepped into his life. She did not know that she was the one who had saved him from a tragic fate many years ago. And now, her heart was the target of pursuit for both Yue Guanyi and the powerful Empress Dowager Qin Qing.
While Yue Guanyi only dared to silently care for and protect the one he loved from afar, the Empress Dowager Qin Qing openly expressed his feelings and did not hesitate to take advantage of his power to approach Qiu Shuzhi. The covert struggle between the two most powerful forces in the imperial court began…
Trigger warning: All men in this novel are yandere style.
_____
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