One Roof, One Year, No Feelings

Ren needs a wife—not for love, but to meet the condition of his father's inheritance. Hana needs money—not for indulgence, but to save her younger sibling, who is battling a life-threatening illness. They meet in a chilly room, across a table spread with black ink. The terms: One year of marriage. No touching. No jealousy. No feelings. Payment will be made once the contract ends. Ren believes he has bought himself time. Hana believes she has sold a year of her life. Yet beneath the same roof, through the long quiet nights, they start to notice what eyes cannot see—matching scars, a shared loneliness, and two hearts equally hungry for warmth. As the contract's last day approaches, Ren understands one thing: he no longer fears losing the company. He fears losing the woman he once saw as nothing but a contract wife. And Hana understands she is no longer counting down to the end. She is waiting for the day she is brave enough to say, "I don't want to leave." But the agreement never accounted for the most important thing: that two wounded hearts might heal one another, and that falling in love would be the sweetest—and most painful—breach of all.