Kkotboda Namja Episode Recaps Part II (source:dramabeans)

The photos below include shots of Gu Hye-sun’s smashed van. The F4 guys all visited her in the hospital and expressed their concern, and wished her a speedy recovery.





In General

It was a little awkward. Okay, really awkward. But since this was a last-minute hour of programming thrown together to have something to air today, it’s understandable. There was nothing that revealing, mostly chatting about how they got their parts, their favorite segments, NGs, and so on.

For those interested in timeline, the drama began shooting on November 5. They traveled overseas on their Macau shoot on December 1, and the series premiered on January 5.

Hosts were announcer Han Seok-joon and singer-entertainer-MC Hyun Young.

I know a lot of people find Hyun Young annoying, and I have thought so too, but you have to give her credit — she’s really good as host. She was particularly helpful in glossing over some of the awkward “talk show” portions, because she breezes on to keep things moving and doesn’t let the mood die. Han Seok-joon was good, too, and it was cute to see that these two are obviously fans of the show. (I hate when the MCs of specials have obviously barely seen the show and ask stupid questions.)


Some tidbits

* [Lee Min-ho says:] They get about 2 to 3 hours of sleep in a good night. When shooting is tight, they have to get by on one or two, finishing one night’s shoot and jumping straight into the next day’s.
* [Kim Hyun-joong] The entire crew, not just the actors, have lost about 5 to 6 kg each.
* [Lee Min-ho] The reality of their popularity struck after episodes 3 and 4, when they would go to outdoor shoots and be inundated with fans, sometimes 2,000 to 3,000 spectators watching the filming.
* [Lee Min-ho] To get some of their footage, the crew had to pretend to pack up for the day to get fans to go home. Then they would come back after everyone left, to shoot in the dead of night/early morning. This also contributed to filming delays.
* [Lee Min-ho] His favorite scene is the first (real) kiss with Jan-di on the swing, on the playground.


Both hosts mentioned some of their favorite lines and asked Lee Min-ho to re-enact them. He messed up a couple times, but you know what, it’s a little startling (and cool) to see him go from laughing and modest right into character.

They requested several lines (like Jun-pyo’s exchange with Jun-hee about the types of men she hates). It’s cute because it showed both hosts actually follow the show closely — and, I think, also telling that all the lines they asked for were from Min-ho.


Casting

* [Lee Min-ho] Went to his second audition with a perm.
* Current Jun-pyo hair is the sixth perm they tried.
* [Kim Hyun-joong] He first heard news of his casting when in Japan with SS501, preparing for a concert. Was on his laptop and saw the internet reports.
* Surprised, he called his reps to ask what this was about, and thought it was a joke.
* He didn’t actually seem that excited to have gotten the part (or at least, he seemed like he was put out that he was cast without being told). He thought he should work on the group album first, but his management company’s president told him to take the role since it would be a good opportunity.
* [Kim Bum] Was cast later, after his stint on East of Eden.
* [Kim Joon] Auditioned several times, and saw Lee Min-ho at one audition. Wondered what was up with his weird perm. First impression of him was that Min-ho was tall and glared a lot.
* [Kim Hyun-joong] Regarding his impressions of his co-stars: He first saw Lee Min-ho in Public Enemy Returns and knew him as “that kid who dies.” Saw Bum in Eden and knew him as “that guy who cries well.”
* [Kim Hyun-joong] Although he and Kim Joon were both singers, their activities didn’t overlap, so they met for the first time on this drama.





Thoughts on the other F4 guys

* [Kim Joon] Min-ho has an unexpectedly cute side, a kinda dumb charm. For instance, Jun-pyo’s laugh is Min-ho’s real laugh.
* [Kim Joon] Hyun-joong is the “mood-maker,” which means he lightens the set, says funny and oddball things.
* [Kim Joon] Bum is the youngest but very mature. He helped him (Joon) a lot with acting.


(KIM JOON IS SUCH A GOOD SPEAKER. I keep forgetting he’s the least experienced — not just in acting but in the entertainment business overall. He has a very easygoing energy, he interviews well, he speaks smoothly and answers questions well. Bum tends to not say much, Min-ho seems bashful, and Hyun-joong comes across a little reserved and disconnected, but also says some funny things without meaning to be funny. Joon is awesome. I can totally see how he was cast despite a nonexistent profile or credits to his name; he definitely has “It,” that star appeal.)


About Kim Joon

* [Kim Hyun-joong] Kim Joon, like his character of Woo-bin, is the one who solves problems.
* [Kim Hyun-joong] Joon will say he can’t do something, but then it’ll turn out he’s really good and he’ll win at everything. Calls him “a bit like a con artist” in that respect (everyone cracks up).
* [Lee Min-ho] Joon is too modest, because he’ll say he’s not good at something but there’s nothing he can’t do.




NGs

Most of these have already aired (some were at the end credits of previous episodes), but there’s one part that was funny. In the scene at the Macau resort hotel, in which Jan-di spies Jun-pyo getting friendly with a woman at the bar, the unedited raw footage shows that the two actors are just trading greetings like “Hello.”

The Chinese actress says some Korean phrases she knows (“thank you,” “oppa,” “I love you”), then a few things in Chinese. (All the while they’re in character, looking chummy.) Min-ho says at one point, “I don’t know what she’s saying,” and then, “I’m out of things to say.”

Min-ho is named (by Hyun Young) the NG King. He admits that he’s the first to own up when he’s messed up.


The sets

The special ends with a tour of Jun-pyo’s and Ji-hoo’s rooms. Kim Joon has actually never visited Ji-hoo’s set, because his character has never been there.

Earlier, when Hyun Young asked about their musical skills, she requested a guitar performance from Hyun-joong (he complied), then from the others. The other guys deflected, saying they could play the piano but not the guitar. Here, there’s a piano, so she asks Kim Bum and Lee Min-ho to play. They both say they’re not very good, but play a tune each. (Min-ho’s not lying; he stumbles through “Moon River” but it’s adorable.)

And then, Kim Hyun-joong closes off with the song posted at the top, “보고싶다” (I Miss You).


EPISODE 18 RECAP

At the pool, Jun-pyo forcibly removes Jae-kyung’s arms from around his waist, but she wraps them around him again.

Jun-pyo faces her, and we can see he’s changed somewhat because his tone is almost gentle when he says, “You’ll find a guy who’s right for you.” (He tempers that by adding, “Since you’re not so ugly.”) Stubbornly, Jae-kyung insists, “I don’t want anyone else.” She asks cautiously, “Is there someone you like?” He responds, “Yeah.”

Jae-kyung just nods, so he wonders why she’s not asking about the girl. She’s already guessed, though, and her reaction is revealing of her character — despite her straightforward personality, in this she chooses denial over facing the truth. Jae-kyung shoves her fingers in her ears and shouts, “I don’t want to hear. Ahhh, I can’t hear, not at all.” And she runs off.

Jan-di doesn’t see the rest of their conversation, because she had turned and left after witnessing their hug. In shock, she sits alone in a daze, which is where Ji-hoo finds her.

He assesses her mood and takes her aside to a quiet corner. In true Ji-hoo fashion, he doesn’t ask questions and waits while she sits and fidgets with nervous energy. Jan-di looks at her shaking hand and mutters that the stupid thing won’t stop. Ji-hoo takes her hand in his grasp and tells her, “It’s not stupid, so don’t scold it too much.” It’s a really sweet gesture.

Ji-takes starts to play his guitar, until eventually Jan-di falls asleep on his shoulder. After a little while, Ji-hoo moves aside and leaves Jan-di to continue sleeping.

When he steps outside, he notices Jun-pyo exiting the hotel; soon afterward, Ji-hoo gets a text message from him reading, “I’m leaving first.”

Alone in the hotel suite, Jae-kyung smothers her sorrows in ice cream, and who can blame her for that? Although, if she were really serious she’d be using the big spoon, is all I’m sayin’.

Jae-kyung recalls all the signs that indicate that Jun-pyo and Jan-di used to date, such as the first meeting in Macau when Jan-di admitted she’d come to see her boyfriend. Looking over the couple rings she’d planned to give to Jun-pyo, Jae-kyung compares the inscriptions on the rings to the one on Jan-di’s star-moon necklace.

And now for some (unintentional) hilarity. I’m sorry, this whole section was almost too embarrassing to watch, even if it did finally feature more Woo-bin. On the downside to having more Woo-bin is that it felt like they were shoehorning in a Woo-bin Story of Drama and Angst purely because fans want more Kim Joon, and while I fully support that cause, I only wish it had been handled in a more skilled way.

Basically, Woo-bin parks his car along a bridge and thinks back to a recent encounter where he had been drunkenly walking the railing while Yi-jung looked on in worry. Woo-bin is wallowing in a bout of self-pity because — get this! — he’s embarrassed about his background.

Woo-bin says in a defeated tone that he’s only considered part of F4 because of his association with the others (uh, and what about the construction empire he’s inheriting, conveniently forgetful writers?). His shady associations make him ashamed — but only with his F4 friends. While he doesn’t care what other people think of him, sometimes “I feel so embarrassed that it irritates me to death.” (Irritate to death? That’s like saying something is extremely mediocre, or the best average.)

Frustrated, Yi-jung pulls Woo-bin off the railing, and pushes him against his car — and who else wondered for a second whether these two guys were going to make out?

Yi-jung’s mad now, demanding, “Is that all we are to you?” He thinks friendship runs deeper than that, and that they should be able to rely on each other and not feel ashamed.

You’re right, Yi-jung, because you shouldn’t be the ones feeling embarrassed — that’s for US to feel, watching this scene. (It is so, so uncomfortable.)

But now that Woo-bin is sober, he reflects back to the bridge scene fondly, and calls Yi-jung.

Now the tables are turned — Yi-jung is the one who’s drunk and in a foul mood. He staggers from his table at a club, nearly falling on top of one woman sitting at another table. When the girl recognizes Yi-jung, she’s flattered at the attention, and he comes at her with a kiss. This does not go over well with the men at the table, who shove Yi-jung aside angrily. Drunk as he is, Yi-jung is in no state to defend himself, and the guys get carried away beating him — one even stomps on his hand, hard.

Woo-bin to the rescue! He arrives in a blaze of fury, with a group of gangsters in tow. The club guys back off quickly as Woo-bin’s mobster henchmen offer to take care of them, but Woo-bin vows to take care of the bastards himself.

Woo-bin growls that in damaging Yi-jung’s precious hand, they may have destroyed something that’s irreplaceable. Woo-bin fights them, then takes Yi-jung away to get treated.

At the resort, Jan-di and Ji-hoo are greeted at breakfast by a cheerful Jae-kyung, who announces that she couldn’t sleep at all because “last night was a hugely historic night for Gu Jun-pyo and Ha Jae-kyung.” That’s not exactly false, but is intended to plant the wrong idea in Jan-di’s head. Jae-kyung compounds the innuendo by saying that Jun-pyo left early because he was embarrassed (over their supposed Big Night together).

So, Jae-kyung has decided on her battle plan — to take charge and do whatever it takes to win Jun-pyo. For what it’s worth, she seems conflicted about misleading Jan-di, but that doesn’t stop her.

Jan-di and Ji-hoo take a detour to a Buddhist temple, where they write wishes for good fortune on tablets. It’s sweet that both Jan-di and Ji-hoo’s wishes are for each other rather than themselves: Ji-hoo wishes that Jan-di will be accepted into medical school, while Jan-di’s is for Ji-hoo to “always be happy.”

A monk happens to be watching, and smiles at them in approval. The man tells Ji-hoo a little cryptically that Jan-di is like a lotus flower whom Ji-hoo should treat well, as she will “make you a family.”

Meanwhile, back home, Dr. President Grandpa Yoon has heart trouble. (It wouldn’t be a PD Jeon drama unless somebody has random heart trouble?)

When Jan-di arrives home, she finds her family in low spirits and her parents packing. They’ve realized they can’t support the family by living and working in Seoul, so they are going to move away to work and will send money back to Jan-di and Kang-san, who need to stay to continue school.

They name Jan-di the official head of household, to which Kang-san mutters, “Since when wasn’t she?” Truer words, dude.

Here’s an odd and interesting scene. In the morning, Jun-pyo finds to his surprise that Jae-kyung is directing his servants, which he finds intrusive. Undaunted by his lack of enthusiasm, Jae-kyung steers him to sit at the breakfast table. She’d thought long and hard about what she could do for Jun-pyo — which isn’t easy because they both grew up rich and privileged — and considered what she’d like for herself. The first thing that came to mind was how she hates eating breakfast alone.

Jun-pyo thinks back to his own childhood, how he always had to eat alone in the big dining room and how he hated it. It’s quite interesting because he stares at Jae-kyung in a new way, like he’s seeing her for the first time as a potential friend — or maybe more, a kindred spirit who understands him more than he’d anticipated.

He agrees to eat — a little reluctantly, as though he doesn’t want to feel kinship with her — so she excitedly serves him, which reminds him of breakfast with Jan-di’s family.

Jae-kyung presents Jun-pyo with the couple rings, and asks him to put hers on her finger. Jun-pyo reads the engraving, and the J ♥ J inscription reminds him of the same thing he’d put on Jan-di’s necklace.

This is a nicely acted beat, because for a moment you’re afraid he’ll actually go ahead with it, and Jae-kyung looks at him in nervousness, hoping he will. But the engraving is what snaps him out of it, and Jun-pyo puts the rings back inside the box and hands it to Jae-kyung. He leaves, saying, “I have somewhere to go.”

That turns out to be Yi-jung’s studio. Yi-jung’s right hand has been broken and he now wears a cast. He looks around his studio, as though missing it now that he can’t do anything, and remembers working alongside Eun-jae in the past. Even with Eun-jae, he’d displayed flashes of his current playboy attitude, telling her that girls are like math problems — they make him wonder how to figure one out (suggesting all girls can be easily reduced to a simple answer). His comment causes her smile to falter.

When Jun-pyo visits, Yi-jung is in a lost, bitter state of mind. He says, “It’s over,” referring to his career as a potter (which I don’t understand because yes, his arm is broken, but broken arms heal, no?). In any case, he compares his forced retirement to that of the swimmer with the bum shoulder, which makes Jun-pyo ask sharply if he means Jan-di. Yi-jung: “Is there any other swimmer we know?”

Yi-jung thinks, “It looks like you really came to your senses in Macau. Stuff like love or innocence never applied to people like us from the start.” Jun-pyo, however, just wants a straight answer from Yi-jung: What is wrong with Jan-di and why?

Yi-jung tells him that it was the blow from the chair that did it: “You don’t know how much Jan-di cried after she heard she wouldn’t be able to swim anymore, do you?” This hits Jun-pyo hard, but Yi-jung continues in his dull monotone: “People like you and I have nothing to give the women we love but hurt.”

Reeling from this news, Jun-pyo heads to the school pool, where he battles his guilt over Jan-di’s injury.

Meanwhile, Jan-di manages to find a new room for herself and Kang-san — it’s not a great location, but it’s what they could afford. Brother and sister promise each other to do their best so their parents won’t have to worry.

Madam Kang is traveling on a business trip to Vancouver, so before she leaves, she instructs Mr. Jung to keep a strict eye on Jun-pyo and to report to her at the first hint of something odd. Mr. Jung agrees, although by now it’s clear his loyalties to Jun-pyo trump those to Madam Kang, which we can see in his expression when he sees Jun-pyo sleeping with his pink curly-haired doll.

Mr. Jung also leaves a folder in Jun-pyo’s possession that shows recent photos of Jan-di, meaning he’s still keeping tabs on her and having her watched. I suppose this is supposed to be Romantic, not Stalker-Creepy?

Thus Jun-pyo has no trouble finding Jan-di’s new home, where he shows up in the morning as she’s returning with her brother from their delivery run.

He makes up the excuse that he’s not here to see them; he’s here because he’s also moving into the building. It’s not a total lie — he really IS moving in — but it’s obviously because of Jan-di.

Jun-pyo explains that this is a sort of test of life experience for the Shinhwa successor. He’s supposed to try fend for himself and experience independence for a while. (Yunno, leadership skills and building character and all that.)

This means he’s their neighbor; he’s taken a nearby apartment for himself.

Ga-eul continues with her pottery classes. Eun-jae reads Ga-eul’s dejected mood and guesses that she’s pining over the guy she likes, and urges her to confess her feelings before it’s too late. Ga-eul answers, “I’m afraid. He’s very different from me.”

Wisely, Eun-jae responds, “Love doesn’t work if you hold back. And it won’t remain hidden even if you try to hide it.” Ga-eul senses that Eun-jae is speaking from experience, so she asks why it didn’t work out for her. Eun-jae says that although she wanted to stay with her man, in the end she couldn’t — she kept wanting more than he was willing to give.

Jan-di comes home to find a huge stock of household supplies, which she guesses came from Jun-pyo. It’s cute that he knows how she’d respond, so instead of saying he got them for her, he makes the excuse that he bought too much for himself so he’s just “throwing it away” by dumping it in Jan-di’s apartment.

And then, he is distracted by the wonderful, wonderful smells of cooking ramen. The three settle down to eat, but Jun-pyo takes an instant liking to the noodles (it may be his first experience ever) and quickly scarfs down the entire pot, then asks for more.

Taking Eun-jae’s advice to heart, Ga-eul decides to be honest about her feelings. Despite his cool greeting, Ga-eul isn’t deterred and asks him to go out on a date with her. Yi-jung reminds her that they already did that, so she clarifies that she means a real date, not a fake one.

Yi-jung maintains his dismissive demeanor, but Ga-eul tells him she’s not joking. She confesses, “I like you.”

For a brief moment, it looks like Yi-jung is surprised (and more affected than he’d like to admit). But he covers that up with his usual defense mechanism, which is to push her away and act the cold-hearted womanizer. He says thanks, but recites his list of dating “rules”:

Yi-jung: “One, I don’t mess with nice girls. Two, I don’t mess with foolish girls. Three, I absolutely don’t mess with girls connected with my friends. Ga-eul, you know all three apply to you, don’t you? My answer is no.”

She starts to protest. He says, “You know the way out.”

Hurt, Ga-eul leaves, but his expression when he’s alone tells us that he’s lashing out because of his inner frustration — he’s kind of like Jun-pyo in that, actually. For Yi-jung, it’s not that he can’t have Ga-eul, but he’s afraid to pursue anything with her, so he keeps her away. But similarly to Jun-pyo, he has enough presence of mind to feel self-loathing over it.

That night, Jan-di’s studying is interrupted by a scream coming from nearby — it’s Jun-pyo, and the Big Bad Shinhwa Multimillionaire has just seen a roach. Okay, they are pretty gross, but Jan-di takes care of them easily and shoots Jun-pyo an annoyed look.

When she starts to leave, Jun-pyo hastily asks her to stay and keep him company. So she does, sitting by until Jun-pyo has fallen asleep. She tucks him into bed, then heads back to her apartment.

She has an unexpected guest — Jae-kyung, who heard about her move from Ga-eul. Frankly, I’m not sure what point this serves (probably a clumsy setup for a future point) because the obvious conflict is that she’ll realize Jun-pyo lives next door. But instead, we just get an abrupt transition from Jae-kyung’s visit to the next scene, which shows Jan-di in the school library.

While browsing the bookshelves, Jan-di comes across Ji-hoo napping in the aisle. When he wakes up, he notices the Matisse book she’s holding; he takes an interest in her mention of a school report, because this is something he can help her with.

Since his family owns several art galleries, Ji-hoo closes one to the public to allow Jan-di its exclusive use.

In the gift shop, Jan-di looks over a gift set of a ceramic lotus flower, which reminds her of President Yoon’s puzzle, so she asks Ji-hoo if he knows why lotus flowers bloom in mud. Unbeknownst to Jan-di, her wording echoes the monk’s words, and Ji-hoo thinks back to his comment that Jan-di will make him a family.

Afterward, Ji-hoo falls asleep while resting on an outdoor bench because apparently he is narcoleptic in this episode. Working off Ji-hoo’s sleeping profile, Jan-di sketches him while he dozes.

When he wakes, she gives him the drawing, which he says is so good it merits a present in return — he hands her a gift box containing the ornamental lotus blossom, and answers her question: “They say that even though lotus flowers bloom in mud, they make the world clean and fragrant.”

Jan-di thinks, “Their name is pretty, and so are their actions.” Ji-hoo: “You’re like that.”

At home, Jun-pyo busily packs his clothing. With Madam Kang still in Vancouver, he asks Mr. Jung for his cooperation in keeping quiet to his mother.

Jae-kyung bursts in, so he tells her exasperatedly that she should call and ask permission instead of barging into his room. This doesn’t faze her, and she flops onto his bed and makes herself at home.

In annoyance, Jun-pyo tries to pull her up — Mr. Jung leaves them to their privacy — but instead, he ends up losing his balance.

Jun-pyo falls, hovering over Jae-kyung.

She asks, “Want to make a bet with me?”


COMMENTS

Someone commented in a previous episode thread that it’s almost like Lee Min-ho and Lee Min-jung are trying to suppress the great chemistry they have together for the sake of their characters, and I have to agree — they do have chemistry, which is problematic since their chemistry threatens to outstrip the other couples. (I think Jun-pyo and Jan-di have chemistry too — only, we’ve barely seen them acting together in the past six episodes, which tends to erase that from our short-term memories.)

What’s interesting is that the whole Jun-pyo and Jae-kyung courtship is meant to be unsatisfactory, or at least should point to why these two aren’t right for each other, or at least why they’re less right than Jun-pyo and Jan-di. Textbook Kdrama Studies should tell us that they are supposed to be perfect for each other on paper but not in real life — kind of like how Ji-hoo’s the perfect guy for Jan-di but won’t work out because she doesn’t reciprocate his feelings (anymore). But it’s starting to feel like Jae-kyung really is the right girl for Jun-pyo, and that confuses me. Not that I think the production is going to flout convention and actually put them together — oh hayell no — but because I’m not seeing why we are supposed to be rooting for Jun-di over Jun-kyung, except maybe “because we’re supposed to.”

For instance, think of all of Jun-pyo’s and Jae-kyung’s interactions together. If we were starting this drama with “season 2,” you’d think that Jun-kyung was the ultimate pairing rather than the foil. Even the way Jun-pyo is treating Jae-kyung is softening, and he has a few moments of real connection with her (whether they’re romantic or even just platonic, in a human-to-human way). So why are they pushing this angle when I’m trying to root for the “real” ultimate couple?

We also have a similar issue on the flipside, with Ji-hoo and Jan-di. I know this may sound like a diss, but I don’t mean it that way — it’s more like glass-half-full thinking — when I say that I’m almost glad that Ji-hoo isn’t played by a stronger actor, because then I’d be completely confused about the mixed-up love lines in this drama.

To wit: Imagine someone like the silently broody Jung Il-woo (a la Return of Iljimae) or gentle Ji Hyun-woo (from My Sweet Seoul), or sure, Jang Geun-seok (Beethoven Virus) casting longing glances at Jan-di — I’d be on that ’ship so fast my head would spin.

As it is, I’m liking their dynamic a lot — not necessarily the actors’ chemistry, but the characters’ relationship. One of my favorite moments is when they each write their wishes for the other person, because it’s poignant that they both would rather wish for the other person’s happiness more than their own. I’m guessing the monk’s prediction actually means Jan-di will restore Ji-hoo’s family (i.e., mend the bridge with his grandfather), but the other meaning (suggesting they’re going to marry) is an interesting thought. In theory.

EPISODE 19 RECAP

After falling onto the bed, Jun-pyo quickly gets up and moves away from Jae-kyung.

Her proposal for a bet turns out to be a video game challenge, which she manages to win, bringing out his surly sore-loser side. She claims her winnings by dragging Jun-pyo around for the day.

Woo-bin tries to talk some sense into Yi-jung, who is hell-bent on drinking himself into oblivion. He’s unresponsive to Woo-bin’s worrying, though a phone call does jar him out of his liquor haze. (Rule of Kdramas: Bad news brings instant sobriety!) His mother has had another “episode” — a tantrum and pills — and has been asking for him at the hospital.

As in the previous episode, Yi-jung’s attitude is mostly detached, with a sprinkling of bitterness, so he answers that he’s busy. As he heads out, he shakes off Woo-bin’s arm and says, “If you don’t want to see me going crazy, leave me alone.”

He’s in a self-destructive mood, so he seeks out Ga-eul and asks if she still wants that date.

Encouraged, Ga-eul accompanies Yi-jung to a club, but her gladness soon dies because Yi-jung gets busy flirting with every woman who passes. He’s not even being subtle about it, and Ga-eul is naive enough to take his behavior at face value, when it’s clear (to us) that he’s doing this make a point.

Ga-eul steps out to the ladies’ room, and hesitates for a long moment over whether to return to the table. She decides to leave, not seeing Yi-jung until he calls out to her, “If this is enough to send you running, you shouldn’t have asked for the date in the first place.”

She’s gotten the message, but Yi-jung still has one “highlight” left.

Or maybe he really means “lowlight.” At dinner, Yi-jung’s father is friendly and open, but the more pleasant he is, the uglier Yi-jung’s mood grows. Yi-jung points out that it’s clear his father likes Ga-eul (insinuating that he like-likes her, if ya know what I mean). Personally, I don’t think his dad means to be skeevy when he calls Ga-eul cute, but Yi-jung turns everything into an innuendo.

He says caustically that father and son are similar — Mom’s lying in the hospital from an overdose and they’re both out. Dad suggests discussing family matters later, while Yi-jung’s smile twists further as he asks, “Then what should we talk about? This girl seems your type — want to borrow her?”

Ga-eul is really uncomfortable by now, but Yi-jung’s on a roll and he continues with the verbal jabs, saying Ga-eul is practically the same age as his father’s girlfriends anyway.

Fed up, Ga-eul throws water in Yi-jung’s face. She excuses herself and leaves, and Dad tells Yi-jung that he went too far. Coming from him, that’s got to be pretty lowering.

Since Jae-kyung won the bet, she drags Jun-pyo out on a grocery shopping run. (Note: She really is like a female Jun-pyo, and even uses some of his more commonly used phrases.)

Afterwards, Jae-kyung heads for a particular neighborhood, which starts looking familiar to Jun-pyo. Jae-kyung explains that they’re dropping by Jan-di’s new apartment — and given that Jae-kyung knows about the Jun/di relationship, feigning innocence while forcing them together makes Jae-kyung rather mean, doesn’t it? Or at least calculating?

But Jan-di’s not home, because she’s still out with Ji-hoo. While they wait, Jae-kyung and Jun-pyo cook some ramen, which they end up fighting over. (Jae-kyung claims most of it for herself.)

Jun-pyo notices that Kang-san hasn’t taken any — having eaten it every day, he’s not all that eager for more. Jun-pyo asks what he’d prefer to eat; Kang-sang answers that he’d die happy to stuff himself with pizza to his heart’s content.

They wonder what’s keeping Jan-di, but Kang-san can’t call her because Jan-di has no phone. Hearing this gives Jun-pyo a start, since he’d previously given her a phone. Kang-san explains that they’d given it to their parents in case of emergency.

This gives Jae-kyung an idea, and she drags Jun-pyo off to the cell phone store. Must be nice to be so rich you can just buy phones for your poor friends whenever the whim strikes.

Following their museum date, Ji-hoo drops Jan-di off at the clinic, where she invites him in for tea. At his hesitation, Jan-di guesses that he doesn’t want to run into his grandfather and assures him that he’s already left for the day.

Looking around, Ji-hoo finds that he’s unexpectedly affected at the sight of old family photos, which unleash a flood of memories of a happier childhood and a formerly loving relationship with his grandfather.

Grandpa Yoon walks in and catches him by surprise. Overwhelmed with emotion, the doctor is glad to see his estranged grandson and struggles to make an apology, knowing he has limited time to appeal to Ji-hoo before the latter storms out.

When Ji-hoo turns to exit, Dr. Grandpa stops him and hurriedly says he’s sorry, that he made a mistake years ago. Ji-hoo cynically says that he’s the one who made the mistake — for staying alive instead of his parents. “You must have hated me.”

Grandpa tells him, “It’s not your fault.”

(To be honest, I did want to put up a more attractive screencap of Kim Hyun-joong here… but this awkward eye-bulging look is more representative of his acting in this scene…)

Ji-hoo says, without turning to face him: “You should have said that fifteen years ago. Do you know how much that child waited for you? You don’t know, do you, how much that boy wanted to cry and be held in his grandfather’s arms!”

He storms out, which is when Jan-di finally comes in and guesses what’s happened. Dr. Grandpa is again seized with chest pains, but he urges Jan-di to go after Ji-hoo instead.

Jan-di runs outside into the rain, knowing that Ji-hoo has taken off on foot because his motorcycle is still parked out front. However, she chooses the wrong direction; Ji-hoo watches her leave, then is assailed by painful memories of his parents’ funeral.

His grandfather had shown up to the burial, but ignored him and driven off alone, leaving a young (and adorable) Ji-hoo sobbing. It’s got to be particularly traumatizing, since not only was he orphaned, he’d been forsaken by the one person he had left, whom he had depended on. Ji-hoo breaks down into tears, and man, he’s lucky it’s raining so he doesn’t have to fake those tears.

I’ve been softening on Kim Hyun-joong because he seems like a nice guy and the more I read about him in the press, the more I like him as a person. I’ve let his vague, dull acting slide in recent episodes because at least his character didn’t have much emoting to do. But when a spot of real emotion is required, it just can’t be ignored: He is not a good actor.

Unable to find Ji-hoo, Jan-di waits for him outside his house. Good thing, too, since she’s there to catch him (literally!) when he staggers home in a daze and collapses on top of her, exhausted both physically and mentally.

And we can never have too much emotionally battered staggering in one episode, because now it’s Yi-jung’s turn.

He arrives at his door inebriated, and fumbles with his keychain. He’s so drunk that he can’t pick out the right key or fit it in the lock, so after a couple tries, he throws down the keys in a fit of frustration.

Lucky for him, Ga-eul arrives to pick up the keys, and helps him inside.

Despite her assistance, Ga-eul isn’t over the harsh way he’d treated her before — as soon as she brings Yi-jung inside, she turns to leave.

But Yi-jung grabs her hand to pull her back. He mumbles, “I was afraid I’d make her cry, like my father, like my mother. I chased her away because I didn’t want her to cry because of me.”

(Does he mean Ga-eul? Eun-jae?)

I guess after all those episodes of damsels in distress saved by F4 swooping in for the rescue, this is the episode for the ladies to do a little swooping in of their own. Now it’s Jan-di’s turn to tend to Ji-hoo; she watches over him and, thinking he’s asleep, raises a hand to his cheek. She’s startled but doesn’t pull away when Ji-hoo reaches up to grasp her hand tightly.

Jan-di stays with Ji-hoo during the night, and prepares some porridge for him before she leaves.

When Ji-hoo wakes up, he finds the breakfast waiting for him, and sits down to eat his porridge of pity.

(Does anyone eat as miserably as Ji-hoo? Well, since food makes him so sad, I suppose it’s no wonder he’s so skinny.)

Meanwhile, Jun-pyo has spent all night anxiously pacing around his apartment, waiting for Jan-di to come home. When she finally does, he’s out on the landing to hound her about where she’s been and why she’s coming home now.

Jan-di’s knee-jerk reaction is to feel guilty, but then she remembers that she didn’t do anything wrong and shouldn’t feel defensive. So when he insists, “Tell me where you were!” she shouts back, “No!”

She declines to enlighten him even when he asks again in a calmer voice (albeit uneasily), “Are you really not going to tell me?” (She’s really not.)

Madam Kang arrives home. She’s happy to hear that Jun-pyo has been spending more time with Jae-kyung, but asks Mr. Jung meaningfully, “Don’t you have anything more to report to me?”

That makes Mr. Jung nervous. Madam Kang shows him photos of Jun-pyo with Jan-di (and how the hell did she get a camera inside Jan-di’s apartment showing them eating ramen together?). Luckily, she accepts Mr. Jung’s apology that he was inattentive, rather than suspecting that he has been purposely hiding things from her. She orders him to get on the ball and find out what’s going on.

Jun-pyo may have had bad luck with Jan-di, but he’s better at playing the big brother to Kang-san. Remembering his pizza wish, Jun-pyo sets up a large food stall outside Kang-san’s school, equipped with a whole buffet of different kinds of pizza. A sign reads, “Kang-san, be strong! Eat up.”

Jun-pyo tells him to dig in, and Kang-san’s classmates eagerly line up behind him.

At home that night, Jan-di notices how quiet it is — and although she routinely complains about Jun-pyo making a fuss, now that he isn’t, she thinks, “It worries me now that it’s so quiet.”

Jun-pyo’s merely having some problems with his rickety stove, and has to resort to eating his ramen dry (which, by the way, I totally used to do as a kid). An unexpected visit from his mother’s flunkies ruins the mood, though — they’ve been ordered to retrieve him, and drag him off. He protests, and runs into Ji-hoo down in the alley.

Ji-hoo has learned Jan-di’s new address from Ga-eul. He trades a long look with Jun-pyo, but the two friends don’t talk as Jun-pyo is pushed into the awaiting car. There’s something really nice about the way Jun-pyo shoots one last look up at Jan-di’s apartment, particularly because (1) he’s leaving her behind, and (2) he knows Ji-hoo is on his way to her.

Ji-hoo doesn’t go up immediately, though, because when he does knock on Jan-di’s door, he’s got Yi-jung and Woo-bin with him. They greet Jan-di cheerfully and announce that they’re here for a housewarming. Looking around, though, F3 are a little dismayed that at how shabby her new place is, although Jan-di assures them that it’s quite livable.

And then, another visitor crashes the party.

Oh, Madam Kang is so scary. It’s amazing how much Lee Hye-young can do with one direct stare.

Everyone comes out to see the latest visitor, stopping short at the sight of Madam Kang’s posse. Jan-di asks cautiously what the reason for the visit is — and while she’s not rude, she doesn’t grovel in the way Madam Kang probably expects from everyone. Madam Kang says in her cold way that the polite thing to do is invite her inside. Even commoners should know that that’s basic manners.

It’s the formality that she wants, not the actual offer, because when Jan-di complies and invites her inside, Madam Kang sniffs that it’s better to stay outside than step foot inside that hovel.

Indicating the guys, Madam Kang insinuates again that Jan-di’s got loose morals — and even they bristle at the implication and speak up for Jan-di. Jan-di says, “I haven’t behaved in such a wrong manner that I deserve those words.”

Madam Kang begs to differ: “You call an engaged man to your house secretly, and you say you haven’t behaved wrongly?”

She asks Jan-di for a “favor,” though it’s really more like an order: “Even if Jun-pyo comes to see you, please don’t meet him. As you said, you and he have nothing to do with each other anymore. I can trust you, can’t I? Miss Jan-di, I’ll have faith in that great sense of pride of yours.”

The words are polite, the tone is civil, and yet there’s a very steely undertone. Madam Kang then addresses F3: “This is why I oppose Jun-pyo meeting you, too. Think of your families, and for the love of god, come to your senses.”

It’s sweet of the guys to come to Jan-di’s defense, even if it’s ineffective against the Witch Mom. After her departure, Woo-bin tells Jan-di not to take her words to heart — she’s like that with everyone.

Next, the friends all pitch in to offer Jan-di a housewarming present — they show up armed with wallpaper, paint, and other cleaning supplies, and get to work redecorating the room.

On the downside, Kang-san has to live in a pink room covered in flowers. On the upside, it does look a lot better once it’s done.

Meanwhile, Witch Mom has punished Jun-pyo by grounding him. On the downside, the lone exception to the rule is Jae-kyung, who is admitted into his room. On the upside, she does offer a way out.

Jun-pyo’s annoyance gives way to interest when Jae-kyung says the magic words (which she knows will win his attention): “I was going to suggest dropping by Jan-di’s place together, but I guess I’ll go alone…”

At that, Jun-pyo tries to pretend he’s not interested, though obviously he’s desperate to go along, and agrees to accompany Jae-kyung.

When the Jun/kyung couple arrive, they find everyone else already there and in a festive mood. Done redecorating, F3 and the girls sit around the table and joke that this feels like an MT (membership training, a typical college ritual). Ga-eul suggests they play the quintessential MT game — the Truth Game — and Jae-kyung bursts in, “Me too!”

The rules are thus: The one who is asked the question must tell the truth. However, if s/he doesn’t want to answer, that person has to give up something to the asker. That “something ” varies based on what they decide — sometimes it’s a drink, or a slap on the arm. Jae-kyung suggests a kiss.

Going with the kiss idea, Yi-jung starts things off with a question for Ji-hoo: “Can you love someone other than Seo-hyun?”

It’s a simple question and the answer’s not difficult, but Ji-hoo wants to have some fun — he plants a kiss on Yi-jung’s cheek. It’s adorable.

Now it’s Ji-hoo’s turn to ask: “Jun-pyo, if the one you love runs into trouble because of you, could you let her go?”

I was hoping for another kiss, but Jun-pyo answers straightaway, “No, I won’t. I can’t. I’d grab on tight, and be sure to make her happy.”

Jun-pyo wastes no time in proceeding with his question: “Geum Jan-di, the promise you made before on the street — does it still stand?”

He’s referring, of course, to the sunset scene in Episode 10 after he kissed her in traffic. Back then, he’d asked her to promise, “No matter what happens, don’t run from me.” She had promised that his mother would never be the reason for breaking them apart.

But now, Jan-di answers, quiet and matter-of-fact: “No. The person who made the promise and the one who asked it are both gone now.”

It’s a sad moment, although she hurries to gloss over the silence by forcing a smile and asking her question. She picks Woo-bin, and says, “If F4 were women, who would you want to marry?” (Ha, like he needs the “if they were women” qualifier!)

But no, Woo-bin answers that he’d rather stay single — heck, he’d rather join a monastery — than have to settle down with one of these fools. He points out their faults — one is stuck-up (Jun-pyo), another is “fourth-dimensional” (oddball Ji-hoo), and the third is a cold-blooded Casanova.

When Jun-pyo drops off Jae-kyung, she asks him to answer one last Truth Game question: “Friendship or love: If you had to choose between them, which would you pick?”

Without hesitating, Jun-pyo replies, “Both. Because there’s no such thing as giving up in my dictionary.”

(After he leaves, Jae-kyung sighs that his answer — which bodes ill for her, since he’s got no intention of giving Jan-di up — appeals to her. What a dilemma.)

It’s funny how Mama Kang chooses her revenge(s), because when she faced Jan-di on the rooftop, she was actually rather civil. Her words were mean and she did insult Jan-di, but her attitude wasn’t one of hatred or fury. (I’d call it more resigned and frustrated.) And yet, when she does choose to act, it’s so calculated. Like with Jun-pyo, the cruelty really does hurt more when it’s so… carefully considered.

Her next step is to take away Jan-di’s home. It’s not enough for her to evict her from her apartment — which she could so easily do — but she actually has the entire building planned for demolition. A construction worker tells Jan-di to vacate immediately.

On the other hand, life is looking (slightly) better for Yi-jung. While packing up his pottery materials in his studio, he finds Ga-eul’s gift and looks at the arm socks fondly.

Ga-eul, meanwhile, is putting in some extra time at her pottery class. Eun-jae wishes her luck and starts to leave, which is when Ga-eul spots the little ceramic puzzle piece hanging from her purse. She takes an immediate liking to it, and asks to borrow it so she can make one for herself. Eun-jae hands it over, but asks her to take care of it, because the item has a lot of meaning for her.

If you’ll remember, Yi-jung had the other pieces in his collection — each jigsaw piece had been formed of clay, and made to fit together like a real puzzle — which I suppose symbolizes that Eun-jae is the one missing piece in Yi-jung’s heart. Or something.

To Ga-eul’s surprise, Yi-jung drops by her classroom, apparently not surprised to find her there.

And finally, Jan-di must say goodbye to the last of her family. With their finances in such dire straits, her brother has offered to move down to join their parents in their fishing village. Kang-san has an upbeat attitude and tries to talk like this is a great thing, that he’s lucky and looking forward to joining their parents.

Jan-di plays along, but it’s much harder for her to pretend this is what they all want. She wonders if she should join the family, too, but Kang-san reminds her she’s got to graduate and go on to medical school.

He boards the train and says his last goodbyes, reminding her to take care and eat well, and also: “I think Jun-pyo hyung still likes you.”


COMMENTS

First of all, I always love seeing F3 in support of Jan-di, just as I loved how uncomfortable and stiff they were around Jae-kyung in a previous episode.

As for Jun-pyo and Jae-kyung: I’m willing to revise my sentiments from the prior episode, although I still think that the actors have more chemistry than the characters ought. And their interactions did muddle up the dynamics to make it seem more romantic than I wanted. Even though I agree with comments that they’re supposed to be friends more than lovers, I wasn’t getting that from the actual acting, which is why I found it confusing.

On the other hand, I think this episode went a long way in defining the lines of the relationships, and yes, now it does look much more obvious that the Jun/kyung relationship is meant to be platonic more than romantic (at least on Jun-pyo’s end) — the video game was a prime example of that, with Jun-pyo treating Jae-kyung like one of the guys.

Previous interactions aside, in this episode Jun-pyo makes it very clear that he has only ever wanted Jan-di, and that he is absolutely not giving up. I appreciated that his answer in the Truth Game came immediately — he doesn’t even have to think about it because the truth is so defined in his mind.

Same thing when Jae-kyung asks her question later. I’d wondered whether she was asking him to choose between friendship and love because she recognized that Jan-di had fully occupied the slot for “love” in Jun-pyo’s heart, relegating Jae-kyung to friendship. It seems like she’s grasping a bit at straws, like she’d settle for friendship if that meant she could still have him, even if that ruled out love. Because Jun-pyo may harbor doubt about whether he can win Jan-di back, but at least there are none about his feelings.

EPISODE 20 RECAP

When Yi-jung finds Ga-eul at her pottery class — using his trusty super-sensory Ga-eul Tracking Beacon, I’m sure — things start out promising for the couple. He looks at her encouragingly as she works on her project, and she smiles bashfully at his attention…

…until Yi-jung looks over at the ceramic puzzle piece on the desk, that is. Instantly recognizing it, he asks urgently where it came from.

Ga-eul answers that it belongs to her pottery teacher, which sends Yi-jung rushing out in a blaze of (over)emotion. (Oh, Kim Bum. It’s okay, you can bug out your eyes and flare your nostrils as much as you like, I’ll still love you.) From his shocked reaction, Ga-eul puts the (puzzle) pieces together, and we now confirm that the girl he’d been talking about in the last episode was in fact Eun-jae, not Ga-eul (sorry, Soeulmaters). (Refresher: He’d mumbled about in his sleep that he’d retreated because he was afraid he would hurt her.)

After sending her brother away, Jan-di wanders the streets with her sad piece of luggage. She pulls out her phone to call someone — perhaps Ji-hoo, or maybe Ga-eul — but gets no answer. (We can assume this is the phone Jae-kyung bought her, but a little more continuity would be nice. Jan-di suddenly has a phone! Then she doesn’t! Now she does again!)

Jan-di tries to stake out a spot for herself in the subway station, but she’s chased off by a drunken, belligerent homeless man. I know she tried to call somebody and she heads to the clinic next, but if she was willing to squat in a fetid corner of hobo headquarters, surely she could’ve tried a few more people first. Honey, there’s pride, and there’s stupidity. (Jan-di, two words for you: PC bang.)

(By the way, the background music is a Jisun song, “What Do I Do?” [어떡하죠], and no, it’s not out yet.)

At home, Jun-hee thinks back to how her mother interfered in her life, in much the same way she’s interfering in Jun-pyo’s now. Back before Jun-hee’s marriage, Madam Kang had attempted to pay off Jun-hee’s boyfriend, insisting that someone of Jun-hee’s standing needs to marry an elite type.

Jun-hee had angrily confronted her mother, saying that all she had ever wanted was a love like the one she had with him — nobody else can replace him. Madam Kang had sneered that risking her status for love is a foolish gamble. “Do that in your next life.”

Commiserating with Jan-di’s situation, Jun-hee calls her… which is a good thing, because this occurs just as Jan-di collapses in the street from exhaustion. Worried passers-by crowd around her, and one woman answers Jan-di’s phone.

When Jan-di awakens, she’s in a guest room at the Gu Manor (or I suppose I should call it Shinhwa Manor). Jun-hee greets her with affection and cheeriness, but there’s a firmness to her tone as she reminds Jan-di that she’d told her to call if she was ever in trouble. She announces that Jan-di is her guest now, and will stay in this house until she’s able to find a place to go.

Jan-di protests — it’s too much of an imposition — so Jun-hee busts out the “But you’ll hurt my feelings if you refuse” tactic, reminding Jan-di that she’d promised to think of her as an unni, regardless of Jun-pyo. Surely she wasn’t just paying lip service, was she? Besides, Mommie Dearest is out of the country right now.

It IS a solution to her problems, so Jan-di agrees reluctantly, under one condition — she wants to earn her keep. She asks to be put to work.

You know, the French maid outfits are ridiculous, but I kinda like them. More to the point, I like how they, unlike the school uniforms, are not fetishized sex-kitten costumes. Sure they’re funny-looking, but in a frilly, Pilgrim-girl way, not a skimpy lad-mag way.

Jun-hee introduces Jan-di to the staff and the stern Granny Housekeeper who rules the roost. (Anyone think that the bug pin on her collar is a nod to Jun-pyo’s bug phobia? Lol.) Granny’s kind of a hoot, not least because the actress is a kdrama staple and she always does the bossy grandma role hilariously. Furthermore, although Jun-hee calls her “grandmother” out of affectionate respect, the housekeeper demands that Jan-di (as her employee) call her “sunbae” instead. HAHA. (Insisting she be called “sunbae” would be appropriate if she were about fifty years younger.)

With that, Jun-hee announces she’ll be heading back to the States for a while, and wishes Jan-di well.

Jan-di is trained under the eagle eye of Housekeeper Granny, who demands perfection. At mealtime, Jan-di is assigned to serve Jun-pyo, so she hastily tells him the menu and keeps her face averted to avoid his notice.

Jun-pyo doesn’t notice Jan-di at first, because he’s startled to see Granny back — apparently she’d left the household to work elsewhere for a while. For the time being, she’s traded places with the butler.

Granny introduces Jan-di as the new maid, forcing the latter to face Jun-pyo. Wincing, Jan-d addresses him, and both exhibit further shock when Granny announces that Jan-di will be Jun-pyo’s exclusive personal maid.

Jan-di begs to be reassigned, but Granny is unbudging — this job requires her to do tasks that may not be enjoyable, but should be done uncomplainingly. Jan-di contemplates leaving, but feels that would be disrespectful to Jun-hee, and faces her task with resignation.

Jun-pyo, on the other hand, is loving this.

He uses a walkie-talkie to issue orders to Jan-di, which was a tactic already seen in Last Scandal. But even though it’s familiar, I still thoroughly enjoy it here.

He wastes no time putting his “personal maid” to work, issuing commands for her to essentially come running at his beck and call. When she bickers with him (using his name and casual banmal speech), Granny scolds her and reminds her to do her job.

First off, she prepares ramen for Jun-pyo, the first batch of which he rejects because she fancied it up with extra garnishes and pretty dishes — he wants it commoner-style, with the requisite copper pot and lid.

Then he tells her to sit by while he eats, softening the command by telling her how to work the recliner.

The song usage in this drama, as we know, tends to be heavy-handed, but at least the meaning of the song played here fits nicely in this scene. It even ties into a scene later. (This song is also still unreleased).

As Jan-di pulls the stool up on the recliner, the song goes, “I know that this shouldn’t happen. If you say this is a lie, will my feelings for you return?” (The song talks about harboring feelings that shouldn’t be felt, indicating that her feelings are in danger of making a reluctant resurgence.)

When Jun-pyo finishes eating, he sees that Jan-di has fallen asleep. He covers her with a blanket, and watches her as she sleeps on, not noticing that the maids have witnessed this through the open doorway. (Granny looks rather pleased, as well.)

In the morning, Jan-di has the daunting task of waking Jun-pyo, which as we’ve already seen takes some effort. He’s being so bad-tempered that when she arrives at his room, she overhears him yelling at a maid to get out and that she’s fired.

The maid bursts out crying, so Jan-di grits her teeth and storms in to wake him up, prodding him incessantly with her feather duster until he does. Furthermore, she makes him come outside to rescind his firing to the maid.

(As we’ve seen in the past, Jan-di tends to let herself be abused when she’s the one at the brunt of the bad behavior, but she’s more than willing to step in on others’ behalf. I wish she’d stand up for herself, too, because Weakling Jan-di sure gets tiresome. But given my options, I’ll take this Righteous Defender Jan-di over Doormat Jan-di any day.)

Yi-jung drops by the pottery classroom to see Eun-jae, and finally we can piece together their backstory. She’d been the one to leave him — and furthermore, she’d hidden herself on purpose to make it difficult for him to find her.

Ga-eul walks into the hallway in time to hear their conversation from the hallway. At this confirmation that Yi-jung and Eun-jae were first loves, she realizes that she’s probably out of the picture.

The girls mope together about their failed love lives. Jan-di’s lost her boyfriend to another woman, while Ga-eul is sad that she helped Yi-jung reunite with his first love, just as things were looking good for them.

Jae-kyung bursts in, worried, having found out Jan-di moved again. As telling the truth would present something of a delicate situation, Jan-di laughs it off, trying to remain vague about her new home and saying that “stuff came up.” So when Jae-kyung enthuses about another housewarming party, Ga-eul jumps in — Jan-di’s staying with her, so they can’t have a party.

Jae-kyung asks for some porridge to take to Jun-pyo, who’s sick. Jan-di almost slips by saying confusedly that Jun-pyo wasn’t sick that morning, but Ga-eul stops her in the nick of time.

Dr. Grandpa Yoon is experiencing more chest pains, which worries Jan-di. He keeps insisting he’s fine, and given that he’s a doctor, I’m interpreting this to mean that he’s actually NOT fine, which is a fear Jan-di shares. She doesn’t believe his reassurances, and says that she doesn’t like the idea of him living alone when he might fall ill again.

Thus Jan-di tries her best hand at some subtle manipulation, showing up at Ji-hoo’s home with luggage and asking if he has a spare room. The implication is that it’s for her — he’s a little taken aback, but points the way. Then Jan-di pops outside to bring in her guest: Dr. Grandpa.

This does not seem like a very good idea, and both men protest. Jan-di first deals with Grandpa, telling him he’s had 15 years to mentally prepare himself for this moment. Also, she threatens (affectionately), if he doesn’t do as she says, she’s going to reveal to Ji-hoo that he’s ill. Grandpa worries, “Will he forgive me?” Jan-di smiles reassuringly — it’ll work out.

Then she faces Ji-hoo, and as with the earlier maid scene, we see that Jan-di is more than happy to confront somebody when it’s for someone else’s behalf. Ji-hoo’s initial anger doesn’t faze her; she says, matter-of-factly, “He and you both need family. All I did was find it for you.”

She points out that even if he wants more time to “prepare himself” to confront his grandfather, at some point the preparation becomes useless.

Jan-di: “The Ji-hoo I know really loves his grandfather and misses him. That’s why you’ll be able to forgive him.”

Dinner at Jun-pyo’s is one of those scenes that isn’t a huge plot mover but is full of small, cute moments. I love it. Jun-pyo’s eating dinner with Woo-bin, when mention of the new maid comes up. He’s disgruntled that his new personal maid isn’t available, as Jun-hee had given her a five-day workweek.

Woo-bin isn’t aware that Jan-di is the new maid, and Jun-pyo’s not ready to make that news public, so he furtively signals for Granny to ix-nay on the andi-Jay alk-tay.

Then, Jae-kyung flounces in, unannounced. I laughed at Jun-pyo’s reaction to Jae-kyung’s attempt to tend to him in his moment of “illness” — could he BE leaning any farther away from her? Woo-bin, totally enjoying every moment of Jun-pyo’s discomfort, teases him about eating Jae-kyung’s porridge (hence the screencap of him above).

That night, Jun-pyo walkie-talkies Jan-di and orders her over, ignoring her protests that she’s off-duty. It turns out that he wants company while he watches a horror movie — and heh, extra lulz for using Kim Bum’s most recent film, Go-sa: Bloody Midterms.

The movie makes both of them jumpy, although Jun-pyo is the bigger scaredy-cat. Soon they’re all wound up in tension, and a particularly scary moment sends them jumping toward each other. (Is this predictable? I DON’T CARE.)

Naturally, this makes for some awkward romantic tension/frustration. They break apart uneasily, and finally Jan-di can’t take it; she gets up to leave.

Jun-pyo calls her back. She pauses, but leaves anyway.

And then she rushes back in, because she’s just spotted Jae-kyung outside, heading straight for Jun-pyo’s room. This sends her into a nervous flurry and she scurries around the room like a chicken with its head cut off, fretting over what to do.

For his part, Jun-pyo declares himself ready to just come out with the truth, but Jan-di panics and beelines for Jun-pyo’s closet. She climbs in.

Jun-pyo thinks she’s being ridiculous, but she frantically motions for him to shut the door, which he does just as Jae-kyung enters calling for him.

Jae-kyung has had a similar idea as Jun-pyo, and comes bearing a horror movie — she was too afraid to watch it alone. (They don’t say whether she brought the same movie, but the point highlighting their similarity is clear enough.)

After the movie ends, Jae-kyung looks over to see that Jun-pyo has fallen asleep. As Jun-pyo had done with Jan-di, Jae-kyung covers him with the blanket, then takes a long look at him.

I’m sure this parallel is intentional, showing again how Jae-kyung is similar to Jun-pyo — not necessarily to demonstrate that they’re a good (complementary) match, but more that they’re too similar to work. This is also the scene I was referring to when I mentioned the song lyrics previously, because the same song kicks in as Jae-kyung looks at sleeping Jun-pyo, with the same lyrics that go, “I know that this shouldn’t happen. If you say this is a lie, will my feelings return?”

Jae-kyung leans in close to press a kiss to his cheek.

Jun-pyo opens his eyes after she goes (which means he probably was awake for the kiss), then remembers Jan-di.

He finds her asleep in the closet. I really, really like the tiny beat while he’s looking at her intently and raises a hand to her face, and his finger lingers on her lips — it’s like he’s giving her a kiss, too.

He carries Jan-di back to her room.

In the morning, Ji-hoo wakes up to find his grandfather at the table, having prepared breakfast for the two of them. How sad that Ji-hoo is always left to eat his tragic foodstuffs alone, and now that he has a companion, he doesn’t want it. Grandpa Yoon has put a lot of care into making funny faces in the food — stuff Ji-hoo liked as a kid — but Ji-hoo isn’t ready for this step, and rejects it. Saying he’s not hungry, he turns away.

He does, however, come back after his grandfather has finished eating, and sits alone at the table and cleans his plate. Okay, I know this scene is all meaningful and touching, but it’s hilarious how purposely meaningful it is. Seriously, has food ever been as sad as when Ji-hoo eats it?

A lingering shot at both their plates highlights more of their similarities — they’ve even eaten in similar patterns (with the same leftovers). This reminder of their resemblances troubles Ji-hoo.

Then, Jan-di is confronted by an irate Jae-kyung, who storms into her guest bedroom and accuses her of deceiving her. How dare Jan-di lie to her so blatantly, when all she ever wanted to do was be her friend? She slaps her.

But as we may have guessed — whether from the setup or merely from Jae-kyung’s crazy eyes — this is a dream, brought on by Jan-di’s guilty conscience.

It’s the weekend, which means Jan-di doesn’t have housemaid duties, so she arrives at Ji-hoo’s house bright and early to usher them both to work. At first, Ji-hoo stands aside at the clinic, keeping out of the way without anything to do. Jan-di draws him into the mix, assigning him some of her tasks like handing out tea to the patients.

When she comes out of the exam room, she finds that Ji-hoo has done well on his own, entertaining patients with a song (the tune Jan-di sang before, “I Only Know Love”) on the harmonica. (Are Ji-hoo’s musical instruments the new F4 sporting events? What next, drums? Harp? Castanets?)

Yi-jung broods in his studio, remembering his conversation with Eun-jae. He’d asked why she’d suddenly disappeared, sadly saying that she’d been like air to him — a constant presence he’d come to depend on. Her abrupt departure was a huge shock to him.

Eun-jae had replied, “I wasn’t air. You confused the wind for air.” She had made the same mistake, too, thinking she could stay with him. However, in the end she realized, “Wind can’t return to the place it had once been.”

Ga-eul comes upon a defeated Yi-jung in the studio, asking why he’s like this. (He’s holding the puzzle piece, which he hides behind his back when she enters, which I suppose suggests that he does care about Ga-eul.)

Yi-jung doesn’t like Ga-eul questioning his life, and tells her to keep her mouth shut and leave. But she’s determined to say her piece and refuses to shut up, calling him out as a liar and a coward.

This angers him, but she points out that he had said (regarding Eun-jae) that he had pushed her away for her own sake. Ga-eul challenges his version of the story: “No, you were afraid you’d get hurt.”

Ga-eul continues: “I know the cool, stylish, attentive So Yi-jung is only a mask. But the So Yi-jung I like is a child-like person, afraid of love and of saying farewells.”

She hands him Eun-jae’s puzzle piece (which bears the Chinese character for “time” or “era”), and leaves him with one final thought: “Children don’t hesitate with things they like — because they know that they’ll burst into tears if they lose it.”

With that, Ga-eul exits. Yi-jung takes in all her words with stunned silence, unmoving… and then snaps out of it, and rushes out to follow her.

Morning again. Knowing what this means, Jan-di prepares herself for the arduous task of waking Jun-pyo, and pesters him with an alarm clock held to his ear.

Jun-pyo mumbles and resists, burying himself in the covers, so Jan-di tries harder to bug him with the clock and drag off the covers. As we can expect, this leads to a loss of balance, and she falls on top of him.

(Like I said before, is this predictable? I DON’T CARE.)

Instead of letting go awkwardly, Jun-pyo surprises Jan-di by holding her closer to him. He says, “Just five minutes. Let’s stay like this for five minutes. Then I’ll get up. Even though I’m holding you like this, it doesn’t feel real that you’re here.”

He turns to face her… and just when you’re wondering if they’re going to kiss…

… Jae-kyung arrives! Dun dun dun!


COMMENTS

With respect to the Ji-hoo storyline — I have to say that I like how Jan-di is set up to bring this pair together. The grandfather rift doesn’t excite me terribly as a plotline, but if we have to suffer through it, at least I can appreciate how it’s being carried out. No matter how obvious this outcome is (the reluctant reconciliation), it works with these characters.

Jan-di is just about the only person who could get away with manipulating Ji-hoo into forgiving his grandfather — and I don’t mean manipulating in a negative way. She’s blatant in her intentions, and Ji-hoo’s fully aware that she’s pestering him into forgiveness — it’s just that nobody else could convince him to let her get away with it. It has to be Jan-di pushing him along for this reunion to work, and the point is especially appreciated because it’s high time Jan-di (finally) gives back to Ji-hoo when she’d been receiving so much from him.

You know, I wasn’t sure how they were going to fit in the maid storyline into the drama at this late date, but I’m actually pleasantly surprised, because I think it worked. They worked it into the current plot in a logical way, and I think Jan-di’s reaction (to insist on working for her keep) is consistent with her character. They had to get rid of her family before she could act as maid, and things had to get pretty dire for her to accept this position… and I actually bought the setup this time.

In fact, I’ll defend this as a GOOD example of timing. Their relationship has been in a stasis since Jae-kyung came on the scene, even though their twoo wuv feelings are becoming more clear for both of them and harder to ignore. They needed a little push from an external force because they were both keeping at a distance, letting the circumstances dictate their actions rather than flying in the face of opposition, as they did in Season 1.

We may wish for them to be bold and fearless — okay, I’ll just speak for myself here and say that I wish that — but that’s also a characteristic of the youthful sort of “first flush of romance” emotion we get in the first half. That passionate, unrealistic, Romeo & Juliet fervor. They’re not MUCH older now, but the point remains that now there are other considerations they have to factor in aside from pure emotion. True Love may conquer all in a kdrama, but they’ve still got to work out some other obstacles first.

EPISODE 21 RECAP

Jae-kyung walks in on the Jun-di embrace, her reaction speechless surprise. Jan-di fumbles to explain, but can’t find the appropriate words…

But that’s a moot issue, because OH CRAP now it’s Mama Kang who walks in. (Given her destructive potential, you’d think they’d have her business schedule more closely monitored, wouldn’t you?)

Talk about buzzkill. Jun-pyo can only close his eyes in chagrin as Madam Kang (who had entered the room cheerfully addressing Jae-kyung) takes in the sight of Jan-di in the maid uniform. (I guess we should just be glad Mummy didn’t see Jan-di lying on top of Jun-pyo?) Sputtering in rage, she demands to know who dared bring her into this house.

Granny Housekeeper calls out, “I did.” Lady Kang demands that she be kicked out immediately. However, while I wouldn’t say Madam Kang is intimidated by Granny, she does find her difficult to browbeat into submission, stemming from the fact that Granny’s position in this household pre-dates even her.

Granny is a crusty old broad, and says firmly that hiring and firing maids falls under her purview, not Madam Kang’s. It’s not time to let Jan-di go yet.

When Mother protests, Granny reminds her that she served the Gu CEOs even before Madam Kang married into the family, and asserts that her loyalty is to the Gu household. She will preserve its honor.

Jan-di follows Granny out and thanks her for stepping in. However, Granny tells her that she didn’t hire her because Jun-hee had asked her to — no, her motivation was related to Jun-pyo. After Granny left the household, she’d worried about Jun-pyo, knowing how he has a soft heart underneath his cold exterior. However, seeing him now, she’s noticed a change, and attributes the positive upswing to Jan-di’s influence. Granny owes this family, and feels it’s her last duty to serve him.

Also, her ability to size up people has served her well in the past, so she has to trust that instinct now. (Meaning that her gut is telling her that Jan-di is the key to Jun-pyo’s future happiness.)

Jae-kyung comes to talk with Jan-di, with a (surprisingly?) understanding attitude, even a little wistful. Maybe that’s why Jan-di feels even worse for not having told Jae-kyung about her history with Jun-pyo, but Monkey Girl doesn’t blame her. Instead, she’s able to see from Jan-di’s perspective why she couldn’t speak up.

However, she asks, “Wasn’t I your friend even before I became Jun-pyo’s fiancée?” As a friend, she wishes Jan-di could have told her; Jan-di apologizes, feeling guilty. Despite their friendship, however, Jae-kyung wants to make one thing clear: “I won’t give up on Jun-pyo. From now on, I’m going to try harder. I’m going to do my best so that I have no regrets. I just wanted to tell you that.”

Madam Kang encourages Jae-kyung along, promising to fire Jan-di. Jae-kyung tells her not to, although she does have a different favor to ask.

At pottery class, Ga-eul talks to Eun-jae after class to ask how her relationship with Yi-jung had ended. We don’t get an answer, but we do see that Yi-jung is waiting outside for Eun-jae, happy to see her until he overhears her phone conversation. From her words, it sounds like a call to a boyfriend.

After a moment, he decides to follow her, and arrives outside a café… where she walks in and enthusiastically greets…. Yi-jung’s brother! Omo omo! (I actually gasped; I wasn’t expecting this.)

This is a huge betrayal, and Yi-jung’s face crumples as he watches his brother’s cozy interactions with Eun-jae. Yi-jung calls him, and watches as his brother steps outside to take the call (though he doesn’t see Yi-jung sitting in his bright orange sports car right in front).

His brother sounds glad to hear from him, and suggests that Yi-jung call more often and drop by sometime. There’s somebody he wants to show him — someone he ought to be very glad to see. Yi-jung tries to keep the tears out of his voice as he asks, “You’re happy, aren’t you?” His brother answers that yes, he’s so happy that he almost feels guilty for it.

Two things: (1) Yi-jung obviously loves his brother, despite their rift. His questions make it seem he’d be willing — albeit with a lot of pain — to relinquish Eun-jae if that meant his brother would be happy.

(2) This revelation was set up to make it seem like a big brotherly romantic rivalry, but there’s a possibility Big Bro isn’t actually dating Eun-jae. True, it’s mighty suspicious given how affectionate they are together, but I don’t know that Yi-jung’s brother would be so eager to announce that he’s found Eun-jae if he was dating her now. We’ll have to wait and see.

More surprises at Gu Manor. Jae-kyung pops in again (well, that’s not a surprise, since she always does that), but this time with luggage. Maybe feeling Jan-di’s presence to be a threat, Madam Kang is pleased to announce that Jae-kyung is moving in too. The parents have agreed to move up the wedding since they’re both adults, the union is going to happen sooner or later, and an earlier wedding is better for business. Jae-kyung’s parents have even already ordered the wedding invitations.

Jun-pyo refuses to cooperate, but his protests are ignored. Furthermore, he and Jae-kyung are set to shoot a CF for the new Shinhwa cell phone, since the media had picked up on their relationship at the launch party and public response was overwhelmingly positive.

Jae-kyung texts Jan-di to drop by her room, where she is excitedly trying on Madam Kang’s own wedding dress. In Jae-kyung’s defense, at least she has been completely up-front with Jan-di about her intentions, and has treated her with affection and understanding. On the other hand, it’s in rather poor taste to flaunt her happiness.

Jae-kyung asks for Jan-di’s opinion on the dress and shows her the jewelry Mama Kang had given her. To make this even more uncomfortable, she has a favor to ask — she wants Jan-di to be a bridesmaid. (WHAT? If showing off the dress was inconsiderate, this is straight-up MEAN.)

Now, this fishing bit is a scene I liked for its thematic purpose (if not for the acting). We start at home, when Dr. Grandpa comes out of his room and watches Ji-hoo packing his fishing gear. Eager for something to talk about, he offers advice about the equipment, then retrieves his own fishing rod and gives it to Ji-hoo, all with a childlike kind of hopeful anticipation.

Ji-hoo remains unresponsive, but asks at the last moment, “Do you want to come? I’m leaving in ten minutes.” Grandpa’s face breaks out into an excited smile, and as much as I don’t care about this story, this is so cute. And touching.

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A lot of people have asked about this song; it’s finally out on the second OST: “낯선 해” (Strange sun). And yes, it was also used in latter episodes of Goong S. [ Download ]

Grandpa Yoon reminisces about Ji-hoo’s mother’s cooking, then gives Ji-hoo a box, telling him that today is his parents’ wedding anniversary. Ji-hoo opens it to find a ring — his mother’s. Ji-hoo starts to break down as Dr. Yoon continues, “I’m sorry. I stole that mother from you, because of my karma.” (I assume this mention of karma is a general “I blame myself” sentiment that Dr. Grandpa harbors.)

F4 headquarters. Jun-pyo and Jae-kyung’s recently shot CF (during which Jun-pyo had remained cold, to Jae-kyung’s unease) is out, and Jun-pyo is pissed about it.

The other guys ask what he’s going to do, but he doesn’t know what he can do. Ji-hoo tells him, “You’re the only one who can find that answer.” Probably not as helpful as Jun-pyo would like. In frustration, he rips up the wedding invitation and storms out.

Jan-di has also seen the commercial on television, and it sinks her spirits further. Ga-eul reminds her (as if she could forget!) that Jun-pyo is facing marriage — this is for real. Since this is stating the obvious, I see this as Ga-eul pushing Jan-di to put up a last fight for Jun-pyo, before he ends up married and truly out of hope’s range.

Jan-di glumly indicates the fancy CF, saying, “That’s their future, and that’s where Gu Jun-pyo belongs.”

She also gets a call from her mother, and assures her that she’s doing fine. Upset at news that Mom is feeling under the weather, Jan-di urges the family to take better care of themselves.

She also gets a call from Dr. Grandpa, who calls her out — only to find Ji-hoo waiting instead. Both are surprised to see each other, and realize that Gramps is up to some matchmaking of his own.

Laughing it off, they walk through the park together, coming upon a crowd that has gathered for some kind of event. Jan-di learns from a bystander that a “couple wedding photography contest” is being held, where all couples are invited to dress up in wedding clothes and take pictures. Winner (by fan vote) gets a prize — and at the mention of that, Jan-di perks up. As we know, Jan-di likes free prizes, and particularly homes in on second prize: health food, which makes her think of her sick family.

I like that Ji-hoo notices Jan-di’s interest, but he knows better than to wait for her to suggest it. Instead, he announces that he’s bored and this looks like fun, and drags her along to participate.

While they shoot photos, a crowd of admiring bystanders recognizes Ji-hoo, and they quickly become the favorite couple. At first, their poses are stiff and un-couple-like, so the photographer (and the crowd) urges them to be more affectionate. Ji-hoo starts to lean in, hesitating as though he wants to kiss Jan-di — but she beats him to the punch, getting into the spirit of the moment by pecking him on the cheek first.

They’re so popular that they easily win first prize, which is a trip to Jeju island. Of course, Jan-di actually wanted second prize, and Ji-hoo clocks her disappointment, and trades with the runners-up. (Touched at his gesture, Jan-di grabs him in an appreciative hug.)

At home, Ji-hoo looks over the photos and takes out the ring, contemplating them together.

And then, everyone’s off to Jeju Island for Jun-pyo and Jae-kyung’s wedding.

(How did they all ship their cars over, and just for the weekend? I know they’re all rich, but that just seems silly.)

Also, poor lonely Woo-bin, who must drive all alone! At least he looks hot?

Upon their arrival, F3 joins Jun-pyo on the terrace, where he’s brooding. Ji-hoo informs Jun-pyo that Jan-di came along.

Jun-pyo isn’t happy about that: “Do you think that makes any kind of sense? Both that the Monkey asked her to be a bridesmaid, or that she accepted?”

Ji-hoo turns to Jun-pyo and asks, levelly, “Who do you think is having it toughest right now?”

This is a lovely scene, even if the contents are a little frustrating (plot-wise). But I appreciate that the talk is open and frank, and both ladies address the issue head-on, instead of circling around the point, as so often happens in these conversations.

Jae-kyung thanks Jan-di for coming, as though she’d been unsure if she would. She says, “I know that Jun-pyo and you really liked each other. Even now, you may still care for each other. I’m sorry for pretending not to know. I’m not usually like that, but I was a little cowardly with you.”

Jan-di feels some responsibility too, and says, “No, it was because I couldn’t say so honestly.”

Jae-kyung: “It wasn’t that you didn’t tell me, but that you couldn’t. Even if you’d told me, nothing would have changed. I wouldn’t have been able to give Jun-pyo up.”

For what it’s worth, Jae-kyung honestly seems to feel bad. I think her balance between friendship and selfishness still tilts exceedingly in favor of selfish, but at least she IS aware. (Cold comfort, I know.) She takes Jan-di’s hand and says, growing more tearful:

Jae-kyung: “I really like you. If I had to choose the two people I valued most in the world, it would be you and Gu Jun-pyo. So I’m truly sorry. I’ll make it up to you for hurting you. Forgive me.”

More F4 sports! It’s soccer this time, which starts out fun and playful, but soon gets overshadowed by Jun-pyo’s aggression. He gets a little too into the body-checking, pushing his friends aside, until in the end he’s the only one still on the field.

The others call him in, saying he’ll wear himself out — but Yi-jung says perceptively that that might be what he’s aiming for.

Ga-eul thinks back to her conversation with Eun-jae, which we now get to see in its entirety. Eun-jae had told her that she did confess her feelings to Yi-jung — it was on Valentine’s Day, and she’d mustered all her courage to put everything on the line.

In the end, though, it wasn’t enough to get through to him, and afterward, Eun-jae had felt her feelings “empty out.” She’d thought to herself, “This is where it ends.” However, because she’d decided to face him honestly and live without regrets, it didn’t actually hurt. So Eun-jae had encouraged Ga-eul to go for it, so that she doesn’t live regretting it.

Yi-jung finds her in the field, at first approaching her with his usual light manner. Ga-eul can’t get her head around the idea of arranged marriage at such a young age, but the concept isn’t that shocking for Yi-jung — in F4’s position of privilege, it’s a concept they’re familiar with.

Ga-eul wonders if his future holds the same fate, and he responds that whatever happens, it’s all the same to him. (This recalls his father’s line about how once you’ve lost That One Woman in your life, all the others are pretty much the same.)

This does not go over well with Ga-eul, who bursts out, “How can you be so irresponsible with your life? That’s why nobody can stay by your side.” At this, Yi-jung’s expression darkens; he thinks she’s playing with his weakness. She shocks him by asking why he never went to meet Eun-jae on that Valentine’s Day three years ago.

(They’re really taking advantage of the Jeju Island scenery, aren’t they?)

After walking outside with Jan-di, Ji-hoo ushers her indoors, and broaches the topic of the wedding tomorrow. By the way, I’m really, really digging how the characters are talking so honestly and frankly in this episode — I only wish they’d done this sooner.

Ji-hoo says that she’s running out of time — today may be the last day to get Jun-pyo back.

Ji-hoo: “After meeting you, there’s only been one thing I wish for — for you to be happy, and not cry anymore. I’m afraid that after tomorrow, you won’t be able to smile again.”

Jan-di responds, “Don’t worry. I will be able to smile,” but the lie is immediately apparent since she starts to tear up. Ji-hoo pulls a handkerchief out to wipe at her tears — but she rejects it. (I’d thought for a split second that he was taking out the ring, and maybe that was the intention. Perhaps he’d been considering giving it to her, but the way she reflexively pushes him away is a blatant reminder that she still loves Jun-pyo.)

Speaking of whom, later that night, Jun-pyo reluctantly sits through a family dinner, remaining silent as everyone chatters about the upcoming wedding.

Jan-di, taking the elevator down to the lobby, spots him sitting with Jae-kyung, and very briefly meets eyes with Jun-pyo. Thus he’s in a mopey mood when Jun-hee arrives that night, asking the somewhat cryptic question, “How much are you prepared to go through?”

Jun-pyo asks, “How much will it take?” Jun-hee answers, “Everything. Family, Shinhwa Group, and maybe even your name as Gu Jun-pyo.”

Jun-hee understands his dilemma and says, “I couldn’t do it. I wondered, what would I become if I abandoned everything? I didn’t have the courage to live as a nobody, as just one man’s woman… I suffered for that one moment of cowardice. I thought I could forget, but I couldn’t.”

I doubt Jun-pyo has ever talked this openly with his sister about this, and he wonders if this means she still feels sorry to the boyfriend she’d left.

Jun-hee answers, “No, not to him. I feel sorry to the twenty-year-old Gu Jun-hee, who I’d thought would always be forthright and pure.”

But she’s not here to tell him what to do; she’s here to offer moral support: “Whatever you decide, I’ll understand. And no matter what you do or where you are, the fact won’t change that you’re the little brother I love.”

I love this scene, because it shows that there’s actually one person in the world who knows exactly what Jun-pyo’s going through. Until now, we’ve seen their similarities in their circumstances, but now we can actually see that they share emotional parallels as well.

Jun-pyo meets Ji-hoo by the outdoor pool and tells him solemnly: “Ji-hoo. You’re a brother to me. You were in the past, and you will be in the future. I’ve thought from time to time how you could live on fine without me, but what would I do without you?”

Ji-hoo wonders what he’s getting at — he’s not asking for help in escaping the wedding, is he? Jun-pyo turns to Ji-hoo and instructs him: “Hit me once.”

At Ji-hoo’s surprise, Jun-pyo continues, “I’m not joking. I have to get hit by you.”

Ji-hoo starts to protest, but stops; after a moment, he punches Jun-pyo in the face, sending him sprawling to the ground.

Maybe this is an exercise in masochism, or maybe Jun-pyo feels he deserves punishment for his next words (because no matter what he decides, he’ll be hurting somebody). He says, “I can’t let go of Jan-di.”

Jae-kyung talks with Jan-di, trying to pick the right wedding dress to wear for the ceremony, again displaying either a lack of tact or a sugarcoated mean streak.

(Honestly, I’m inclined to go with supreme lack of tact, because on one hand, I don’t think she’s being purposely cruel — even though I do admit that on the other hand, it’s uncool of her to enlist Jan-di’s cooperation since she’s acknowledged that she knows how Jan-di and Jun-pyo feel about each other. But on the other hand — yes, I have three hands in this argument — her reasoning in the following scene does actually make sense. But we’ll get to that shortly.)

Jun-pyo texts Jae-kyung a message: “I have something to say.” From Jae-kyung’s expression, she already senses that this may not be happy news.

But she’s the queen of feigning ignorance, and when she meets Jun-pyo at the wedding chapel, she takes a light tone. Jokingly, she recites her vows, answering with her “I do” at the end, then asks him for his vow to take this woman to be his bride, etc.

Jun-pyo, stoic and grim, tells her, “I can’t.”

This isn’t how she wants this conversation to go, so she tries to laugh it off, saying that she was just joking around.

Jun-pyo: “It’s not a joke, Monkey. No, I mean Ha Jae-kyung. You can’t marry me.”
Jae-kyung: “Jun.”
Jun-pyo: “I’m sorry.”
Jae-kyung: “Is it enough to say sorry? Then why are there laws and police in this world?”
Jun-pyo: “There’s already someone I love*. She’s the first in my life, and for the rest of my life she’ll be the only one. You still want to marry me?”

Jae-kyung nods.

(* The word he uses is not sarang [사랑] but “like” [좋아]. However, in this context it really indicates love, not simply liking.)

Jun-pyo wonders if she’s crazy, and she replies:

Jae-kyung: “I know that woman is Geum Jan-di, but I want to keep going with you. It’s funny, but I like that you’re so devoted, and I like even more that you know what real love is. I can bear knowing that the person is Jan-di. She won’t be easily forgotten, but if I wait — if I keep waiting, I’ll have the next chance. You’ll love me like that too.”

He tries to reason with her, but she says, “That’s enough for me. It’s worth it for me to invest in that.”

And then Jun-pyo kneels, to beg her: “Forgive me.”

Jae-kyung says in a harder tone: “No. Listen to me. Tomorrow we will stand here and become spouses. Whatever the past, we’re going to promise to love each other until we die. So there’s no reason for you to beg for my forgiveness, or for me to forgive you.”

She walks off, fighting her own tears.

And then it’s wedding day.

The pews fill with guests, Jae-kyung nervously sits in the prep room in her dress, and F3 wait for Jun-pyo to emerge.

When he finally does, he’s wearing his tux and a dire expression. He asks Woo-bin for a favor: “Break my arm.”

HA! The guys gape in surprise, but he means it, and Woo-bin seems to get that he’s serious about the arm. Jun-pyo presses him, “There’s no time. With your abilities, you can do this in one blow.”

I find Yi-jung’s facepalm expression particularly hysterical as Jun-pyo sets his arm on the table and Woo-bin takes it, readying to deliver a blow…

I was actually hoping we’d get to see Jun-pyo chicken out, but instead, Jan-di appears in the doorway, upset at this display. She looks disappointed and irritated at Jun-pyo for sinking to such an avoidant tactic, and charges, “That’s all you could think of? If this is the only way you could stop this, then I’d rather you just went ahead with it.”

It’s not necessarily his intent that bothers her, but the methods. Jan-di faces him accusingly: “You’re a coward. You aren’t being forthright with anybody. You’re not facing things, you’re running away. If you run away like this now, it’ll happen again someday.”

So Jun-pyo approaches her, grabs her by the shoulders, and tells her intently, “Then tell me not to do it. Tell me not to go.”


COMMENTS

Okay, this was:
(1) a FANTASTIC ending to go out on, and
(2) I HATE THIS ENDING!! (as a viewer)
(3) But also, I LOVE this ending! (as an appreciator of dramatic structure).

Okay, let’s talk Jae-kyung. Madam Kang’s enthusiastic reception of Monkey Girl makes me wonder whether she likes Jae-kyung genuinely or is mostly afraid of losing a merger. I think it can’t all be business-related; there must be elements of the former in there — perhaps she likes her because she’s so eager to play along, and thus seems like she’d be easier to manipulate.

I don’t hate Jae-kyung as many people seem to, but I did find her logic twisty and puzzling in this episode. For instance, the whole bridesmaid issue. If we give Jae-kyung the benefit of the doubt, I can understand (kinda) that as a friend she’d want her big day to be supported by her supposed best friend, and if they were truly good friends, the other party would be able to rise above her feelings out of love for the friend. In theory. However, the one glaring flaw in that logic is that Jan-di has never invited Jae-kyung to be her friend — she probably does like her, but she never agreed to this level of companionship so she shouldn’t be held to those standards.

Also, Jae-kyung may (selfishly) expect Jan-di to able to compartmentalize her heartbreak in service of friendship — but people can’t compartmentalize emotions like that, and we don’t play our roles out of our neat little boxes, and I think Jae-kyung is missing this, probably because she does actually compartmentalize as a sort of survival tactic. It’s how she’s able to remain so chipper in the face of a rather lonely and bleak childhood and adolescence.

As for Jan-di… I know she’s swept up by Jae-kyung’s strong gravitational pull and not really acting out of her own volition, so she has a hard time protesting. But really, what would it take for Jan-di to go Jerry Springer on her ass, just for a little while??

And finally, I have to say that I freaking LOVE that Jun-pyo actually kneels down in front of Jae-kyung. Omo! That’s something we could never have expected of him a mere few episodes ago, but it also shows how much he wants out of this relationship. And before we complain that he can still back out without Jae-kyung’s consent, I think that’s beside the point — the point is that this new-and-improved Jun-pyo wants, and needs, Jae-kyung’s consent. He has to do the right thing by both women, rather than taking what he wants and letting the other person suffer alone. It’s the price he pays for tapping into his humanity — he’s subject to its pains just as much its benefits.

EPISODE 22 RECAP

Jun-pyo pleads for Jan-di to tell him not to get married. She doesn’t respond and is called away by an usher saying Jae-kyung is asking for Jan-di, so she leaves without a word. However, from her expression — upset, frustrated — we can see she’s not going to beg Jun-pyo to call the wedding off. He registers this too, to his disappointment.

Jan-di’s (non)response here confuses me a little. I understand her conflict and why she feels she can’t ask him to give up everything for her — but what I don’t get is why she looks pissed, as though she’s mad that he asked. (In my mind, she should have played this scene as being torn and anguished, and instead it comes off vaguely bitchy.)

F3 share Jun-pyo’s letdown — from their chagrin here and the way they were willing to let him break his own arm, it’s obvious they hoped Jan-di could put a stop to this. Meanwhile, the guests wait outside, growing fidgety the longer they are kept waiting, while Jae-kyung sits in her bridal chamber nervously.

Jan-di is led away by the attendant to meet Jae-kyung, but finds herself kidnapped instead — she’s grabbed by one guy and shoved into an elevator with several more. Mama Kang then sends Jun-pyo — still wrestling with his dilemma in the waiting room — a text message with a simple warning: a photo of Jan-di being restrained is accompanied by the words, “The groom is taking too long.” Her implication is clear: If Jun-pyo doesn’t go through with the wedding, Jan-di will come to some kind of harm.

Therefore, she smiles smugly when the groomsmen enter the chapel, followed by (a very tense) Jun-pyo. Next comes the bride, who takes her place by Jun-pyo at the altar.

The minister begins the ceremony, breezing through the opening. When he gets to the part where he asks for any objectors to speak now or forever hold their peace, he isn’t expecting a response and is therefore startled when Jae-kyung raises a hand to get his attention.

The parents are stunned; her father tries to hiss out a warning to her, but Jae-kyung says that she has an objection. She looks around and guesses that there must be others who also have objections, at which point Ji-hoo stands up, followed immediately by Yi-jung, Woo-bin, and Ga-eul.

Jae-kyung: “I cannot marry Gu Jun-pyo. No matter how I look at it, I don’t think I’m suited for marriage right now. I’m sorry to cause so much trouble with my fickleness. Dad, everything is my fault, so please carry on your business with Shinhwa Group. President Kang and Gu Jun-pyo, I’m truly sorry. Please forgive me.”

Tamping down her anger, Madam Kang walks out, followed by the rest of the guests. Confused, Jun-pyo asks Jae-kyung what she’s doing, which she answers with a simple explanation: “I’ve always been a pretty cool person.” Jae-kyung calls her bodyguard Chen to check in on Jan-di, who has been liberated from her kidnappers and is taken to a yacht.

Freed from his obligation, Jun-pyo dashes out of the chapel to the yacht, where he finds a surprised Jan-di waiting alone.

He grabs her in a relieved hug, and I can’t help thinking she doesn’t deserve this, seeing as how she put up no fight and hasn’t really earned his devotion. Still, the key to enjoying what follows is to accept their happy reunion, so I’m doing my best to let this point go.

The yacht sets sail, and from a distance (her hotel room, perhaps), Jun-hee watches, pleased at this turnout.

Yi-jung drives Ga-eul out to the shoreline, amused at her uncontrollable sobbing — Ga-eul has been overwhelmed with emotion at Jae-kyung’s lovely gesture.

After she stops crying, Yi-jung broaches the topic she’d brought up the day before, about how he’d failed to meet Eun-jae three years ago. He tells her, by way of explanation, “I don’t believe in happy endings.”

This spins us into a flashback: Three years ago, he had walked into his studio, flirting with a couple girls, and found Eun-jae waiting. Much like Ga-eul had reacted in a similar scenario (and the similarity must be intentional), Eun-jae had been flustered, accidentally breaking a pot and cutting her finger in her haste to leave.

Yi-jung had chased her outside and asked what she had to say. She’d said, “I have a favor to ask” — but we don’t get to see the rest of this scene so we’ll have to wait to find out.

Meanwhile, more continuity fail (or extravagant waste of resources win?) as Ji-hoo takes out his white horse for a ride — did he ship Rui over to Jeju along with the cars? Ji-hoo thinks back to punching Jun-pyo the night before, and we now see the tail end of that conversation, after Jun-pyo admitted that he couldn’t let Jan-di go:

Jun-pyo: “I’d thought that it might be better to send her to you rather than stay with her when I make things so difficult for her. I didn’t even want to imagine it, but if I had to, I thought the other person must be you, that you were the only one it could be. But still, I can’t do it.”

He returns from his ride to see Jae-kyung waiting to talk to him. Asked whether she regrets letting Jun-pyo go, Jae-kyung answers with her usual cheerfulness, “The moment I let him go, I’ve been regretting it to death.”

Ruefully, she tells him, “I was rooting for you, but I’d hate to have given up for nothing, so I can’t do that anymore.” She mentions how she’d asked Jun-pyo whether he would choose friendship or love, and he had answered that he wouldn’t give up either. Ji-hoo smiles a bit at that, because it’s a reminder that Jun-pyo is still committed to being his friend.

Jae-kyung says philosophically that there’s a saying that people generally get as much as they strive for. She and Ji-hoo didn’t get their way because they weren’t ambitious enough — they didn’t exert their wills and backed off. (By the way, it’s not a negative or positive thing to be ambitious in this sense — it just means that Jan-di and Jun-pyo’s True Wuv trumped the other factors.)

Jae-kyung is leaving for New York tomorrow, so she asks him to deliver something to Jan-di — the star-moon necklace. Jae-kyung muses, “You don’t know how much I’d hoped that the JJ stood for Ji-hoo and Jan-di.”

She wishes him luck, and leaves.

Jan-di and Jun-pyo arrive at a villa, which has been lavishly decked out in a romantic display — candles, fancy food, rose petals arranged in a heart configuration. (I believe Jae-kyung has handled the arrangements.) Their initial reaction is to sneak looks at each other uncomfortably, as though embarrassed with the overt romanticism.

But never fear, they get over that soon enough. They sit down to eat, flashing happy smiles at each other every other moment. It’s adorable. Jun-pyo rises to pull Jan-di to her feet for a dance, and Jan-di asks the question I’ve been wondering:

Jan-di: “I’ve been wanting to ask you something… Why me? I’m not pretty, and I don’t have money, a distinguished name, or anything. Why did you like me?”
Jun-pyo: “Because I have all that.”
Jan-di: “What?”
Jun-pyo: “Money, name, looks — I have all that. I don’t need that from you. All you have to be is Geum Jan-di.”

As Jan-di looks through a telescope at the stars, Jun-pyo points out Sirius, known as Orion’s dog (part of the Canis Major constellation) and the brightest star in the night sky. He jokes that it’s like him in that respect, so Jan-di laughs and claims a star for her own. Jun-pyo identifies it as Procyon, the brightest star in Canis Minor.

Jan-di asks how he came to like astronomy, at which he suddenly grows quieter. When he had been younger, his father had sent him a telescope with a card telling him to study the stars, so that they could watch them together later.

Jan-di guesses that his interest stemmed from father-son star-watching dates, but he says no — they never went. Believing that promise, Young Jun-pyo had studied his hardest.

Jun-pyo: “But do you know what I got for Christmas a few years later? A telescope. That’s when I realized that he didn’t send his gifts and cards, but that his secretary did.”

Jan-di senses his hurt, her smile fading in sympathy. But when he asks, “Do you know what my dream is?” she manages to answer lightly: “Going to watch the stars with your son.”

Jun-pyo laughs, “You’re so simple-minded,” before he says solemnly, “To not make promises I won’t keep. Jan-di. I’m sorry for hurting you.” And then, “I love you.”

You know, all the lovey-doveyness is pretty much expected stuff, but the whole thing really brings a smile to my face. I’m just so glad to see everyone looking happy for once (even if the actors, poor things, look visibly exhausted).

This giddy vibe continues the next day, when our happy couple relaxes together. They’re visited by their friends, who are likewise relieved to see that all is well in the land of Jun-di love.


Ji-hoo is glad that Jan-di is once again able to laugh, and tells her so. He also hands over her the lost star-moon necklace, and although it’s crossed his mind that it’s suspicious that Jae-kyung had it all this time, that’s all moot now.

Instead, Jan-di is alarmed that Jae-kyung is about to depart any minute now and rushes off for the airport. Although Jae-kyung more or less steamrollered Jan-di into their friendship, Jan-di has developed an affection for her, and a part of her feels guilty for taking away the man Jae-kyung loved.

They make it just in time to catch Jae-kyung before she boards — who, by the way, is looking around with a heavy heart, as though half-hoping that they would come to see her off even though she purposely didn’t tell them she was leaving.

Jan-di scolds her for trying to go without saying goodbye, and Jae-kyung admits that she doesn’t handle them very well. With some affection, Jun-pyo tells Jae-kyung to take care, and thanks her.

Jae-kyung:”If you two break up, I’m going to feel so wronged I’ll die. So if you want to split up, you have to report to me and get my approval.”

The two ladies hug, Jan-di openly crying and Jae-kyung holding her tears back. She rushes off before she succumbs to tears, and boards the plane.

Once seated, Jae-kyung takes out the shoes she’d found in the Macau airport, which remind her (flashback montage!) of her first encounter with Jun-pyo. She thinks wistfully, “I know this was originally Jan-di’s. But let me have just this one thing. I should have a memory to cherish for myself, shouldn’t I?”

And then, everyone’s back home.

As punishment for the broken engagement, Madam Kang has ordered her men to keep Jun-pyo confined to his room, where he sees the news reports speculating on the uncertain future of Shinhwa’s merger with JK Group.

As for Jan-di, she’s once again homeless, knowing that she’d better get out of Gu Manor ASAP, before Madam Kang acts. Once again, Witch Mom beats Jan-di to the punch, arriving at the restaurant to deliver Jan-di’s luggage.

She is in a high temper, and accuses Jan-di of being even more sneaky than she’d given her credit for, acting innocent and then pulling off a sly move behind everyone’s back. Even for Madam Kang, the accusations are pretty strong, but we see why: she shows Jan-di a newspaper announcing that the merger, like the engagement, is off.

Mama Kang’s voice drips vitriol as she tells Jan-di that she doesn’t realize just how much damage she’s done, or on what scale. She threatens, “It’s best you not expect me to let this go easily. I will make you realize exactly who you messed with, and make sure you regret it to its fullest.”

This scene is interrupted by Grandpa Yoon, who rebukes Madam Kang for going too far. Although I doubt she feels sorry for her actions, Dr. Yoon’s presence has a chastening effect, and Mama Kang bows her head out of respect for him.

And then, her temper is mollified entirely when Dr. Yoon announces that Jan-di’s business is his business because “she’s my grandson’s wife-to-be.” This is news to everyone, including Jan-di, but most of all Madam Kang. Ever the shrewd woman, she contains her surprise, quickly guessing that she need not interfere if Dr. Yoon’s words are true. Perhaps this is one battle she can win without even trying.

Grandpa Yoon brings Jan-di home with him, turning the tables this time by pressuring her into staying. She and Ji-hoo both feel the awkwardness of the setup, but are overridden by Grandpa’s insistence that Jan-di remain with them.

However! I do like this next turn, because Grandpa Yoon sits down with Ji-hoo to explain that Jan-di has nowhere to turn, and he wants to help her. Ji-hoo is about to explain that Jan-di might be uncomfortable here, but Grandpa pre-empts his argument. He says that Jan-di’s presence doesn’t have to mean anything. In fact, he’s opposed to Jan-di and Ji-hoo being together (I don’t think it’s a classist statement, but more that he thinks they’re not suitable together).

Ji-hoo is startled, but smiles to himself — well, that potential problem worked itself out nicely.

Now we see the rest of Yi-jung’s flashback explanation of why he never met up with Eun-jae. She’d handed him a letter and asked him to meet her the next morning, leaving with a hopeful smile.

Yi-jung had walked back inside and put the letter on the counter to read later, but a phone call from his distraught mother had distracted him. He’d grown annoyed at her familiar histrionics and urged her to give up on his father, and when he ended the call and turned to serving his guests tea, his irritation caused him to spill tea on the counter. He’d tossed the papers that had gotten soaked, accidentally including Eun-jae’s unopened letter with the pile.

Mr. Jung approaches Jan-di with a puzzling request, which Jan-di accepts sympathetically, happy to oblige. This is a favor he asks of her personally, which has nothing to do with Madam Kang or Jun-pyo — he’d like her to act as companion for a man in a coma. He’ll pay her for her sitting with the man and talking to him occasionally, as a part-time job.

The man is described merely as someone “like family” to him. Jan-di is unsure why he’d ask this of her, but Mr. Jung explains that what the man needs is a warm spirit, and she’s the warmest person he knows.

Jun-pyo hears from Mr. Jung that Jan-di’s staying with Ji-hoo, and while that’s not an ideal resolution, he understands that it’s the safest place for her at the moment. He texts Ji-hoo (on Mr. Jung’s phone, since his has been confiscated): “I’m relieved that she’s staying at your house.”

Ji-hoo, however, can’t shake an ominous feeling. After reading the message, Ji-hoo wonders aloud in his empty house, “Jun-pyo, then why am I feeling so uneasy? I feel afraid.”

As Jun-pyo is currently under house arrest, he’s cut off from the outside world, and namely Jan-di. Woo-bin runs into her at school, and sighs over the rough patch they’re all going through right now — Yi-jung is still unable to use his right arm, and Jun-pyo’s locked up. Perhaps he’s even referencing the actors’ real-life haggard expressions, because he points to himself and says his face is suffering from all the worry.

Still, Woo-bin assures Jan-di not to worry too much about Jun-pyo. He tells her to hang in there, and also thanks her for helping Ji-hoo: “I’ve never seen him looking as relaxed as he has these days. Thanks to you, he found his grandfather.”

Jan-di approaches her new companion position with enthusiasm, caring for the unconscious man and reading aloud to him. One particular passage strikes a chord in her:

Jan-di: “The most unfortunate encounters are like those with fish bones. The longer the encounter, the more the fishy smell sticks with you. The encounters to be most careful with are with an open bloom, because while it’s open it brings cheers of joy, but as it wilts, it gets thrown away. The most beautiful encounters are like those with handkerchiefs. They wipe away your sweat when you are tired, and your tears when you are sad.”

That last example makes her think of Ji-hoo (flashback montage!), who’d always been there for her in her times of need, whether to lend her support or wipe away her tears. Jan-di smiles at her patient, saying she hopes to be a handkerchief type of person for him, too — and Mr. Jung watches from the doorway, pleased.

This scene is a bit random, but at this point I’m just rollin’ with it. Jan-di struggles to cut her bangs satisfactorily, which is when Ji-hoo walks by and offers his assistance. Naturally he is a master of this skill — ain’t nothing he can’t do, is there? — and he finishes the job successfully.

Jan-di returns the favor by volunteering to help wash his car (which, of course, eventually degenerates into a water fight).

Afterwards, they sit outside and relax, while Ji-hoo reads from a book of poetry. One poem catches his attention, and he starts to read aloud: “I wanted to tell you…”

He pauses there, hesitating for a long moment, trying to decide whether to continue. Finally he decides to go for it, and keeps reading: “…that I love you. I wanted to shout it aloud. That’s all.”

But when he looks over to see Jan-di’s reaction, he sighs because she’s fallen asleep and therefore hasn’t registered his indirect confession.

Meanwhile, Ga-eul is busy with a new project, spurred by her last encounter with Yi-jung. It looks like his cast is off, but for whatever reason, he hasn’t regained the use of his arm. (I’m guessing that it’s a case of paralysis stemming from a psychological block, rather than a medical reason.)

He’s packing away his pottery items; she thinks it’s cowardly of him to quit so easily. He says in a dull monotone, “It doesn’t matter anymore.” She fires back, “It matters to me!” Ga-eul recites his own words back to him, harking back to his analogy likening a person’s heart to the clay-firing process. The clay, like people’s life experiences, is supposed to be strengthened by the fire.

He dismisses it, saying, “I must’ve been talking crap.” Ga-eul isn’t willing to give up on him, though, and announces her intention to return to him the use of his paralyzed hand. In pursuit of that goal — like I said, it must have a psychological basis — over the next several nights, Ga-eul spends all her time going from building (apartment?) to building, working to the point of exhaustion.

Woo-bin and Jun-pyo put their heads (and fists) together to devise a plan to slip away from his bodyguards. Jun-pyo heads out, feigning a careless attitude when he tells the bodyguards he doesn’t care if they follow him — he’s just going to be hanging out with Woo-bin.

Of course they follow, trailing Woo-bin’s car on the road. They don’t count on Woo-bin’s mafia underlings cutting in out of nowhere, however, and find it impossible to continue their pursuit.

And so, Jun-pyo earns an afternoon of freedom, and calls Jan-di out for a date. Unfortunately, she’s just assured a mother at the clinic that she’ll watch her young boy for the afternoon, and finds herself in a bind.

Her compromise: she brings the boy along on the date. Jun-pyo is surprised (“What is that thing?”) and disgruntled that their precious time together is going to be usurped by this kid, and it’s adorable to see him try to deal with being left out. He pushes the boy aside a few times, wriggling his way between Jan-di and the kid to claim her attention (which is all done in fun).

Eventually, he warms up to the boy as they spend the afternoon at the zoo.



COMMENTS

First of all, it’s worth pointing out that the scenery in recent episodes has been really beautiful. Perhaps this is one marked benefit of making a drama with unknown actors (or little-knowns) — you save money on acting fees to spend on location shoots, like in Macau, New Caledonia, and Jeju Island.

Often, a drama will boast of its foreign location shoots, but I find that many times those segments are pretty unremarkable — they seem either superfluous (and have no impact on the story), or the locations don’t look that different and are therefore wasted. Not so here, where the location shoots add to the rich, luxury-world feel of these characters’ worlds. (There’s nothing more laughable than seeing a drama depict mega-rich characters when everything actually looks quite shabby, right?)

I don’t have huge complaints with Jae-kyung’s exit from the drama, if only because I’m so glad she’s gone! I should be satisfied with that and not look the gift horse in the mouth, so to speak.

But maybe I’ll peek a little, because I do have one main issue in this episode, and it’s the way Jae-kyung shoulders the responsibility for Jan-di and Jun-pyo’s continued romance. Let me make clear that I totally get that in the manga, Shigeru is the one who stops the wedding to spare Doumyouji the consequences of backing out himself. However, here the lead-up has been different, and therefore the way this unfolds puts a different spin on events, and it’s one I don’t like.

Without making further comparisons to Hana Yori Dango, I think it’s problematic (or just frustrating) that Jae-kyung’s actions are the reason Jun-di get back together. Jan-di had her chance to tell Jun-pyo not to get married — the least provocation would have been enough to get him back — but she didn’t. Yes, she was kidnapped so who knows if she would have acted eventually, but I’m putting my money on no. She would have sat back and let her Grand Love marry someone else, and then moped for the rest of her life about it like some whiny martyr.

Jun-pyo, to his credit, tried harder, and I’m not sure you can blame him for walking down that aisle after Jan-di failed to respond to his last-ditch plea. Furthermore, I think there’s a good chance that if Jae-kyung hadn’t spoken up, he may have found himself unable to take his vows. Fortunately for him, he didn’t have to find out, thanks to Jae-kyung.

And lastly, I know a lot of people are dissatisfied with Jae-kyung the character. I agree that her arc was waaaay too long, and she never should have been given such a huge presence on the show. I’d have preferred some of the other guest players to be given a longer run (Haje, for example) and hers a much shorter one, to feel more balanced overall.

But, in her defense, I think that the actress Lee Min-jung probably played this character as well as she could be played. In the hands of anyone else, I think Jae-kyung would have been even worse, and supremely irritating instead of just mildly so. Thanks to her bright effervescence, Jae-kyung came off as flawed and human — and yes, very selfish — but she also had some depth, which I appreciated.

Still, thank goodness that’s finally over! I was afraid I’d be burnt out on this drama at this point, but thankfully I’m finding myself catching a second (or third?) wind in this last stretch. I’m staunchly spoiler-free (which is becoming SO FREAKING HARD to do these days, curses be to the Internet!), so I’m only speculating when I predict we’ll probably have one big storyline and perhaps a minor one left in the remainder. Bring it on!

EPISODE 23 RECAP

Jun-pyo and Jan-di’s zoo date marks their first chance in a long while for quality time, so Jun-pyo asks how she’s been holding up. He tells Jan-di, “I’ll take care of you,” explaining that Witch Mom isn’t the type to let the broken engagement and aborted merger slide — he’s preparing himself for her next assault.

However, Jan-di tells him she doesn’t want to be protected. Jun-pyo balks, because in his mind it’s natural to want to protect her, but Jan-di says, “I don’t like being supported by someone, or protected and taken care of. I’ve received many things from you, F4, and Jae-kyung. I want us to be equals, so I’ll face what I must.”

(And then the boy, Chan, whispers to Jun-pyo for a little bathroom assistance. He is so cute. Jun-pyo rushes him off, and the three enjoy their day at the zoo.)

I really like this walk home, which is characterized by calm contentment. Jun-pyo reflects, “It’s strange, it feels like I’m in a scene in a hazy dream right now.”

The words are spoken casually and Jun-pyo doesn’t mean anything by it, but they sure do make me uneasy. Their walk is cut short by a phone call from Mr. Jung telling Jun-pyo he ought to return home. Jun-pyo isn’t eager to go but he knows he should; he hands over the sleeping boy and reluctantly leaves.

Yi-jung’s studio. He examines the puzzle piece given to him by Eun-jae, and remembers when she’d first given him the present. When he’d asked what the characters meant, she had answered that it indicated “a once in a lifetime fate.” I suppose the point is that if it’s once in a lifetime and he had let her go, like the wind that never returns to the same spot twice, the relationship truly is over.

Ga-eul bursts in, nearly wilting with exhaustion but pleased to announce, “I found it.”

Ga-eul brings Yi-jung to the rooftop of a tall building and points in the distance, just as the rising sun illuminates the city skyline.

The billboards are advertisements for two different products, and when the sun hits, the light breaks and washes out the extraneous parts, leaving only “I love you” and “Yi-jung.”

Ga-eul explains how she came to discover this — three years ago, Eun-jae had asked Yi-jung to meet her at sunrise the next morning. That day’s recorded sunrise had occurred at 7am, so Ga-eul had been tracking down various locations until she found the right one, which displays this message only for a few seconds each day.

I’m sure Yi-jung has guessed the gist of Eun-jae’s message, but seeing it like this hits him hard. He breaks down, overwhelmed with regret, and sobs out wretchedly that he wants a do-over.

Ga-eul lets him cry, but his pained reaction affects her too, as she watches with pity (and probably some hurt feelings at this evidence of how deeply he cared for Eun-jae).

Ji-hoo and his grandfather fish together (while Jan-di prepares the fish stew that Grandpa Yoon likes). Dr. Yoon brings up the death of Ji-hoo’s parents, explaining that he was afraid of losing Ji-hoo as well, which is why he pushed him away. However, he’d thought of it as suffering alone — punishment for his lifelong pride — as though he hadn’t realized that Ji-hoo would misinterpret and shoulder the blame.

With things cleared up now, Grandpa Yoon is at peace, and feels he can die content. He asks Ji-hoo to take over his arts foundation and clinic when he dies.

That’s an idea that Ji-hoo isn’t ready to think about yet, and he doesn’t get much of a chance to protest because Jan-di announces that lunch is ready.

At the pottery studio, Ga-eul arrives with some apprehension, having been called there by Yi-jung. He’s in a much better mood than their last emotion-charged encounter, stomping on a mound of clay, barefoot.

Yi-jung has bad news and good news, then guesses she’s the type to want to hear bad news first, and indicates his right hand. He isn’t sure how it will hold up, and he won’t be as good as he was before. However — and this is the good news — he isn’t going to run away again: “Thanks to a certain someone, I’ve realized how much you can regret something after you’ve given up on it.”

Ga-eul smiles in relief, and he invites her to join him in working with the clay. As they stomp on clay together, she wonders how he knew she’d prefer the bad news first. He replies: “Good girls all want happy endings.”

She stumbles, and he catches her. There’s a brief moment between them, so Yi-jung reminds her, “I may be cool, but I’m not a good guy.” Ga-eul returns that he should get over his misconception that good girls always want good guys.

At that, Yi-jung leans in for a kiss, and Ga-eul closes her eyes… which is when her phone rings.

We don’t hear what the problem is (yet), but it’s bad news from her mother. And unfortunately, this time her bad news isn’t followed by good news or an almost-kiss.

Dr. Yoon’s heart condition is triggered when he receives an upsetting phone call, which sends Jan-di fumbling for his medication. However, Ji-hoo is frozen in shock, and Jan-di’s words all sound muffled to his ears — it’s like he can’t focus on anything, lost in his own fears.

Grandpa’s okay (or as okay as he can be). At the hospital, Jan-di tells Ji-hoo that his grandfather hadn’t wanted him to know, thinking all would be well if he was careful.

Mama Kang is once more on alert. Not only is she still upset about the broken merger, she has seen a TV news report that included footage of Shinhwa Zoo — which happened to include glimpses of the Jun-di date.

Madam Kang’s next plans are so harsh that even Mr. Jung speaks up, reluctant to carry out her orders to proceed. Having seen Jan-di’s attachment to Ji-hoo and Grandpa Yoon, she plans to take advantage of her Achilles heel. Namely, she will retaliate by lashing out at Jan-di’s loved ones, starting with Ji-hoo’s grandfather’s art foundation. She says, “We have to take this opportunity to yank out the roots. It’s fortunate that there’s something more important to that foolish girl than money.”

It works out nicely for her, then, when Jun-pyo comes in with a request. He owns up to the broken engagement and says he’s sorry. However, while their relationship with JK is shaky, it’s not destroyed — he promises to restore the alliance and asks Witch Mom to entrust him with the task. To show he’s serious, he will accept all her rules and restrictions, whether that that includes being followed around or being locked indoors. In exchange for one thing: “Just leave Jan-di alone.”

He’s told her this before, but he’s never really offered up serious collateral, which makes this time different. Mom asks, “You’re saying all I have to do is not do anything to Geum Jan-di?” At his yes, she agrees: “I’ll promise. I won’t lift a finger against her. But don’t forget what you’ve just said.”

Jun-pyo assures her, “Don’t worry,” and leaves with an almost puzzled expression — he was expecting more of a fight, so he’s unnerved by her easy acceptance.

Grandma Housekeeper echoes those sentiments, warning Jun-pyo not to let his guard down: “Don’t you know your mother yet? This isn’t the time to rest.” Granny also wonders how he means to manage Shinhwa when he can’t even watch over his girlfriend:

Granny: “I didn’t raise you to be so pathetic. Just being born male doesn’t make you automatically a man. One must take time — experiencing anger at losing, the injustice of stepping aside, shame at running away — until he can overcome his weak self to finally become a man.”

Jun-pyo finds encouragement in those words, and grabs her in a sudden hug, saying, “Thanks.”

As Jan-di packs Grandpa Yoon’s things to take to the hospital, she comes across a box, which she hands over to Ji-hoo once she realizes what’s inside.

The box contains items from Ji-hoo’s childhood, such as his school backpack and child’s shoes. It also includes a series of drawings of his family, from when he was very young to the present day. Because his parents are in the pictures, I’m guessing this is Dr. Yoon’s own creation (and not based on, say, photos or real life) of how Ji-hoo and his family would have aged over the years.

And then, Madam Kang strikes. First, Ga-eul’s father is forced into early retirement, without warning. Jan-di overhears Woo-bin discussing the matter with Yi-jung, both of whom guess that this is the work of Witch Mom. Rather than hitting at Jan-di directly, she’s exerted her influence with Ga-eul’s father’s company, a Shinhwa subsidiary.

Furthermore, signs indicate that Ji-hoo will be next; it looks like she intends to shut down the art foundation entirely.

This weighs heavily on Jan-di’s mind when she visits Grandpa Yoon, who by the way fires up his matchmaking again by urging the two kids to go out.

(Given his statements to Ji-hoo in the last episode, I’m inclined to believe that Grandpa was pointing out their character differences — that Ji-hoo is too cold for Jan-di’s bubbly personality — rather than trying to drive them apart. But I’m still not entirely sure what his intentions are — whether he really means to marry the kids off or whether he truly feels that Jan-di and Ji-hoo aren’t compatible.)

Ji-hoo spies a piano in the lobby and takes the seat, starting to play. He smiles at Jan-di several times, but she can’t quite return them because she’s preoccupied with the knowledge that his foundation is about to be ruined because of her.

As they walk along the river, Ji-hoo says that he hadn’t ever wanted to protect anything before meeting her. But now, there are more things in his life he wants to protect, such as his grandfather, the foundation… and her.

Just as he says that, his words are drowned out — the bridge lights up and fountains roar to life. It’s kind of hilarious how Ji-hoo, twice thwarted now from making a sincere confession, is so exasperated that he rolls his eyes.

Timing (and therefore fate?) is clearly not on Ji-hoo’s side.

Jan-di, meanwhile, is lost in her own thoughts: “Now that you have your grandfather by your side, I’m glad. You don’t know, do you, that you were always like sunshine to me. Goodbye, Geum Jan-di’s honorary firefighter.”

Why the goodbye? Jan-di’s made a decision in light of recent events. She tells her unconscious patient of her intentions:

Jan-di: “Sir, I don’t think I can keep coming by. I wanted to see you improve and read you more books, but I’m sorry. I can handle being hungry and cold, but there’s one thing I can’t handle — when people I love are hurt because of me. It’s not anything I can fix by working hard. It’s really unfair, isn’t it? I’m not running away, you know that, right? Even without me, you must get healthy.”

Just as Jan-di leaves, his hand moves.

She then visits Madam Kang, but we don’t see the scene play out yet, and instead resume as she’s leaving the meeting. Jan-di walks through Gu Manor, for once not tiptoeing around, instead chatting openly with the housemaids, who wish her well, as well as Granny Housekeeper.

She even calls loudly for Jun-pyo from the hallway, which makes him think at first that he’s hearing voices. Seeing her there, he panics and drags her inside, afraid that she’ll be noticed by Witch Mom, not understanding why she’s being so boisterous.

Jan-di suggests they go on a picnic and outing, as they’d once agreed to do.


(And now I can rest at ease, because Jun-pyo finally sees his Jun-pyo Face Rice!)

The following date is super-cute, although it’s almost so sweet that it makes you worry (or maybe that’s just me? — scenes like this that are so full of contentment always give me a sense of impending doom).

As they walk along the beach, Jun-pyo wonders if this is some kind of special day for her. He’s enjoying it so much that he wishes every day could be like today — after all, she came to him first to ask him out, and they haven’t fought once.

Going with the good feeling, he asks one more thing: “Why haven’t you said that you like me? I’ve told you several times.”

Jan-di: “Do I have to say so in words?”
Jun-pyo: “I want to hear from you what I mean to you.”
Jan-di: “I like you. So much that I couldn’t stop myself even though I tried, and got angry that I couldn’t forget you when I wanted to.”

This time she’s the one who draws him close, surprising him as she pulls him in for a kiss.

On the drive home, Jun-pyo can’t stop smiling, but Jan-di’s expression grows more and more somber. We find out why as she flashes back to her meeting with Madam Kang.

Jan-di had asked Mom to leave Ga-eul and Ji-hoo alone. Ever the cold businesswoman, Mom had asked what Jan-di would do in return, not expecting Jan-di to be able to offer anything worthwhile.

But Jan-di surprises her: “I’ll leave. I’ll leave Jun-pyo. I’ll change schools and homes and go somewhere he can’t find me. Will that do?”

Oh, that’ll do. Madam Kang accepts. Still, Jan-di feels the need to clarify:

Jan-di: “I haven’t lost to you, and I am not running away either. You’re the worst person I’ve ever met. I’m leaving because I don’t wish to connect the ones I love to you. I’m just sorry that I can’t save the one person I love the most from you.”

This explains the date: Today is really a farewell trip for Jan-di. Coming back to the present, she asks Jun-pyo to pull over, then she gets out with her luggage.

He laughs, wondering if she’s planning another surprise event, and doesn’t immediately grasp her meaning when she tells him, “I’m not going to see you again. Today was our last day together.”

He grows more serious but still doesn’t understand, and asks if something happened with his mother. Jan-di answers simply (and coldly), “I’ve decided to remove you from my life.” She tosses out a casual “Thanks for everything. Take care.”

Jun-pyo knows this has to do with his mother, even if she won’t admit it. She contradicts him:

Jan-di: “This time I realized that you and I are from different worlds. We met as though in a dream, but now it’s time for us to return to our own worlds.”
Jun-pyo: “You’re lying. Tell me, I’ll figure it out. I’ll protect you!”

A bus stops, and Jan-di heads to board it. Jun-pyo follows her and asks her not to go: “You said you liked me. Is this what your love is like? You say you like me and end things so easily?”

Leveling a firm gaze at him, Jan-di explains that her love must have had its limit, and she’s reached it: “It must have been exactly this much.”

He asks, “Taking away Shinhwa or my chaebol status, have you ever once just seen me as one man?” Without hesitation, Jan-di responds, “No. No matter how you try, you’re still Shinhwa Group’s Gu Jun-pyo. I’ve never forgotten that for one second.”

Her answer leaves him stunned. He doesn’t snap out of it until she boards the bus and it starts moving, which is when he starts to run after it, yelling for the bus to stop.

Inside, Jan-di cries, looking back as Jun-pyo grows smaller in the distance. She thinks, “After I fell for you, I’d always wished you were a normal man with no relation to Shinhwa. I’m sorry, Gu Jun-pyo, for not keeping my promise. I’m really sorry.”

So Jan-di arrives in the remote fishing town where her family has relocated, and finds her mother in the marketplace. After the initial giddy reunion, however, she’s dismayed to hear that the family situation is no better than it was before — faced with growing debts, Dad had to go away on a boat (to escape debt collectors, I assume?).

Jan-di wishes they’d told her, but they didn’t want to worry her. They didn’t want her to drop out of school to work, which is exactly what she would have done. She has to finish high school and go to university. Because of her mother’s reaction, Jan-di is unable to admit that she’s left Seoul for good, and merely says that she’s here for a family visit.

Meanwhile, Woo-bin and Yi-jung sigh at the way things have changed following Jan-di’s departure. They’ve looked everywhere, but she’s hidden herself well. They’re worried about Jun-pyo, who is apparently acting out worse than he was even in Macau.

Even worse, they fear more for Ji-hoo. He may be getting along with Grandpa, but Yi-jung points out that immersing himself in foundation and clinic work — for a guy who used to laze around napping all the time — is a drastic change.


I suppose the difference between Ji-hoo and Jun-pyo is that the former is internalizing his pain, exerting strict control over himself and his environment, while the latter is all about acting out and losing control. He sinks into self-destructive behavior.

For instance, when being driven home after a drunken night at a club, Jun-pyo sees a toy machine on the street, and recalls the double date when he failed to win Jan-di a toy prize from the claw machine. Now he staggers out, intent on winning the prize.

I was thinking there would be a beautiful sort of irony if he were to succeed now where he failed before — because now he doesn’t have the girl so it would be a pitifully empty victory — but no, Drunk Jun-pyo is not any better than Sober Jun-pyo.

In a rage, he lashes out at the machine, kicking and beating it until he attracts the attention of the police, who arrest him for (I’m guessing) causing a public disturbance. It’s in the holding area of the police station that Jun-hee finds Jun-pyo, staring emotionlessly in the cell, alone.


COMMENTS

Before commenting on this episode, let me add a few thoughts on the previous one:

I was reading some of the dissenting opinions on the Jun-di relationship, seeing who sided with Jan-di and who sided with Jun-pyo. It’s probably not fair to charge those who think Jun-pyo acted more understandably with being clouded with Lee Min-ho affection, because (1) Well, yes, I think he’s quite a good actor, but (2) I figure at this point I’ve written enough on this drama, and in enough depth, to escape the tag of judging purely based on a hormonal reaction. (Honestly, y’alls, he’s cute but he ain’t my type.)

Here’s what it boils down to, for me: Both Jun-pyo and Jan-di have been shown, unfortunately, to be weak. This is problematic and has significantly hindered my regard for the second half of the series. I wish both had more backbone and were more forthright about their true feelings. Of course, if they did that and had a functional relationship, we wouldn’t have much of a drama to tune into every week.

Both parties have reneged on promises; both have been guilty of giving the other person mixed messages. Jun-pyo called Jan-di a stain, which is pretty harsh stuff, and obviously Jan-di has a right to be hurt. On the other hand, Jan-di has given Jun-pyo no indication that she wants to be with him following Jae-kyung’s arrival on the scene. She may not feel she’s in the position to do anything about it, but she did actively step back and even aided Jae-kyung in getting together with Jun-pyo — that certainly sends the message that she no longer cares for Jun-pyo. She also said that her promise from Episode 10 is no longer valid.

With that being the case, Jun-pyo has no reason to believe he has a future with Jan-di, and he walks down the aisle believing that his One True Love is over. In real life, we know that we get second chances and that a person can fall in love more than once, but in dramaland and in Jun-pyo’s heart, as he explained to Jae-kyung, he knows that it’s Jan-di or nobody. Therefore the question isn’t “Should I marry Jae-kyung or not?” but rather, “Is there any hope at all for a future with Jan-di? — because if not, I really don’t care about marriage and might as well do this political union.”

Meanwhile, Jan-di has been the poster child for passivity. WE know she loves Jun-pyo, but she sure as hell doesn’t let anyone else know that. As some commenters said, perhaps she’s not in a place to demand a relationship with him, but if she hides all her feelings and mopes privately, well, that’s just wallowing in one’s self-pity. She tends to just accept whatever happens to her, and that frustrates me. Jun-pyo is also weak, but at least his feelings — and his desire to escape from the influence of others — are clear. He’s bad at following through on his feelings, but Jan-di doesn’t even get that far — she keeps hers bottled up and unspoken, and that does nobody any good.

And yes, I recognize it’s a pointless exercise to say who was MORE wrong in this situation — but it’s always fun to do it anyway.

Now, for this episode:

I understand Jan-di’s actions and her rationale for leaving, and I actually kinda agree with her decision. Or at least the reason for her making the decision. However, this plot device suffers from overuse — it’s a tactic used in all those classic (read: outdated) Cinderella kdramas, where the girl selflessly gives up her love — even though the guy is prepared to fight for the relationship — to save those around her.

I suppose we’re supposed to feel admiration and pity for the woman who sacrifices her own happiness for the greater good, but what she’s really doing is taking away the choice from the other person, who deserves to have a say in this. Just as Jun-pyo (wrongly) asserted his will one-sidedly earlier in their relationship, she’s disregarding his feelings under the excuse that “I know what’s best for him.” I hate that.

Now, IF she had believed everything she said before getting on that bus — and I think her words had a point — then I wouldn’t have complaints and would probably back her up. (I think it makes sense on one level to want to say, “I gave it my best shot, got my heart broken a couple times, and want to believe that Love Conquers All — but maybe all this fighting isn’t productive if I’m just fighting a losing battle against this all-powerful, evil force who is going to hurt everyone I love.” It’s not fair, but sometimes you have to think of self-preservation.)

However, that’s not the case here: As we can see from her reaction afterward, she lied purposely to get Jun-pyo to let her go, believing that he didn’t need to know the truth. And that her decision was right no matter what he thought. By the way, they’re both guilty of this — him most notably when he turned Jekyll-and-Hyde in Macau — so it’s not like I’m only blaming Jan-di for the tendency.

I might have let this go otherwise, but it really doesn’t help that PD Jeon’s prior two series also employed this exact same scenario (girl leaves selflessly to spare the guy pain, but in a way that removes his choice from the equation). When Chun-hyang in Delightful Girl Chun-hyang did it, I actually enjoyed the ensuing angst (and the anticipated reunion!), but I watched that series earlier and didn’t have a slew of similar dramas to compare to. Also, Jae Hee really rocked the emotional turmoil in that drama’s breakup and reunion.

In My Girl, I hated the ploy because it seemed like a direct ripoff of Chun-hyang (same director, same writers), plus it seemed more forced into the story for manipulative reasons.

Here, I don’t hate it as much as in My Girl but I think it’s definitely less effective as a plot device than it ought to be, because (1) it’s so overdone at this point, and (2) this whole drama has been full of dramatic angsty moments like this, so this one doesn’t particularly stand out for me.

But on the upside, we’re so very close to the end that all this analysis is really just extraneous stuff. Mostly I’m watching with half my brain turned off, and at least there isn’t enough time to drag this storyline out into as painful an arc as the Jae-kyung one.

EPISODE 24 RECAP

Jan-di’s mother asks what’s going on, not fooled at Jan-di’s assurances that nothing’s wrong. Jan-di keeps her tone bright and says she wants to live here with the family, which gets Mom sputtering. What about school? And Jun-pyo? Even though Jan-di has been protesting for a while that she and Jun-pyo are through, the family hasn’t believed it, but I guess Mom can sense that things have changed. She sighs, “We’re done for now. What hope do we have?”

Yi-jung wonders if Ga-eul has heard from Jan-di (she hasn’t), and she wonders in return how Jun-pyo is holding up (“He’s a mess”). With those preliminaries out of the way, Yi-jung addresses the matter of their own chemistry: “Don’t we have to talk about us now?”

Ga-eul speaks first, possibly acting before Yi-jung can shoot her down: “You don’t have to feel pressure from me. I know how you feel, and I won’t go looking for you anymore.” As Eun-jae had said, doing everything she could leaves her without regrets: “Thank you for giving me the chance to try my best.”

However, Yi-jung’s suddenly perturbed expression suggests that this might not be the way he had intended the conversation to go…

Jun-hee hesitates over whether to talk to Jun-pyo, but ultimately backs off and worries to Mr. Jung, “This time I really don’t have a good feeling.”

Perhaps feeling it’s time to reveal one truth, Mr. Jung leads Jun-hee to the mystery patient’s bedside — and at the sight of her father, Jun-hee breaks down. Not only is she hit with the shock of seeing him alive, but all the implications that accompany this.

Namely, that all evil deeds point back to one source: Madam Kang. Jun-hee storms in on her mother, demanding to know how she could sink so low: “I don’t even want to call you mother. How could a person go that far?”

At first, Madam Kang has no idea what has caused this outburst until Jun-hee cries, “How could you say that my father had died when he was still alive? … Were you planning to forever deceive us?! Why did you do it?”

Now that the jig is up, Madam Kang recovers smoothly from the surprise and answers, “Your father would have wanted it.” He had entrusted her to take responsibility before his collapse, and she couldn’t see the company ruined. “My pride wouldn’t allow it.”

Ooh, bad word choice. Jun-hee bristles: “Pride? Are you saying that you told your children their father was dead and deceived the entire world all because of your pride?”

Overhearing, Jun-pyo walks in and demands to know what’s going on. Trying to prevent a blow-up, Mama Kang promises to explain everything calmly, but he’s not having it.

He sees the proof for himself when he goes to his father’s sickbed. Jun-pyo is given a huge emotional shock, remembering the promise he’d made to his father (to take care of Shinhwa and his family after his father was gone). He recalls his mother specifically manipulating that loyalty, by invoking his (supposedly) dead father’s hard work to guilt-trip him into doing what she wanted.

Jun-pyo stalks out out in a haze of betrayed confusion and goes for an angry drive. Now his thoughts turn to Jan-di’s parting words — how they’re from different worlds, and how she’s never been able to see him as a man beyond his Shinhwa position.

It’s got to be a tough blow, not only because his Witch Mom has again done him wrong, but also because his entire struggle in this second faux-season has just been proven pointless. (Granted, his father was in a coma and unable to work, so perhaps Jun-pyo would have had to assume his position even if his mother hadn’t orchestrated this grand hoax. But still, everything that resulted from the emotional manipulation is the bigger loss.) It’s got to hurt.

Ji-hoo sits alone, pining for Jan-di — we can tell because he stares at their fake wedding photo, then his mother’s ring, which he wears on a chain as a necklace. Ji-hoo then hallucinates for a moment, thinking Jan-di is sleeping nearby, and smiles in relief — only to find that he’s imagining things.

Maybe his Jan-Distress antenna is working, though, because he turns on the television and happens to catch a news segment at the very fish market where Jan-di works. In fact, she’s in the background of the shot. Oh, Coincidence. So nice of you to show up.

Jun-pyo’s attitude settles into cool detachment — he declines to visit his father again, and when his mother tries to talk to him (saying, “Talk with your mother a moment”), he scoffs, “Mother? Have you ever truly been my mother for even one moment?”

F3 try to persuade him to go visit Jan-di, now that Ji-hoo has located her. Contrary to expectations, he ignores their prodding and says he’s not interested. Nobody really believes that but he doesn’t change his mind, so Ji-hoo leaves a scrap of paper behind (the address) and says he’s going — it’s up to Jun-pyo if he wants to come along.

And then, it’s a gratuitous topless scene! (Who else laughed? Yay for fanservice!)

We know that Jun-pyo isn’t actually indifferent to Jan-di — he’s just resigned to the futility of the circumstances. What could he do even if he did see her?

Jun-pyo: “I can’t promise her anything now. I can’t tell her I’ll always make her laugh, that I’ll make her happy or to trust in me. Being the son of someone like that, being a member of that kind of family — I hate it enough myself, so how must she feel? She’ll have hated everything she went through already.”
Woo-bin: “But she’s Geum Jan-di, she might feel differently.”
Jun-pyo: “That’s why it’s more impossible. Because she’s the woman I love.”

In the fishing village, the neighborhood ajummas accost Jan-di’s family, accusing them of lying about Jan-di’s relationship to the Shinhwa heir. They’ve seen the report naming Jae-kyung as his fiancée.

Hearing that Jan-di isn’t actually engaged to Jun-pyo, they insist on getting their money back, which they loaned eagerly when they thought it would help ingratiate themselves with a future Shinhwa family member. Now that that’s not the case, they clamor for repayment immediately — after all, what if the family runs away? (To be fair, it’s a valid concern.)

Into the chaos arrives Ji-hoo, who stops the furor by announcing that he will pay them all back.

Ji-hoo does, and the ajummas take their payment happily, chattering about the handsome young man, wondering if he is the Shinhwa heir.

One man catches their conversation and the mention of Shinhwa. This is the man introduced in the previous episode as a former businessman from Seoul who was ruined, left by his wife, cut off from his kids, and now spends all day wandering and drinking.

Jan-di wonders how Ji-hoo found out where she was, and he answers, “I heard the emergency alarm.”

She’s uncomfortable that he’s paid her family’s debts, and feels she’s received too much from Ji-hoo. At this, Ji-hoo turns to face her, crouches down so that they’re at eye level, and says, “You’ve given me more.”

(NICE. That just might be Ji-hoo’s best line in the whole damn series. It’s a lovely little moment — not too maudlin or goopy-sweet, but pleasing in the matter-of-fact way he says it.)

After some small talk about Grandpa Yoon, Ji-hoo takes off his necklace and hands it to Jan-di. He explains that the ring was given to him by his grandfather, and had been his grandmother’s, then his mother’s.

Ji-hoo: “I don’t know when it started either. But now, I can’t be without you.”

Jan-di looks down at the ring, torn over his gesture and her feelings. Unable to accept, she gives it back, saying in an increasingly choked voice, “I thought I could forget — that I did forget. But…”

Jan-di pulls out the the necklace she’s already wearing — Jun-pyo’s — and continues, “…but I can’t throw this away. I can’t let it go. I can’t tear Gu Jun-pyo away.”

Jan-di apologizes, but maybe Ji-hoo wasn’t expecting her to accept, because he’s pretty understanding. He pulls Jan-di to him in a comforting hug and tells her it’s okay.

This ring-necklace moment is another part where I thought, “NICE.” Because while there’s nothing amazing about the exchange, I thought the moment was built well, and all the symbolic and logical elements (for once!) convened in just the right way.

For example, it makes perfect sense that Ji-hoo would put the ring on a chain and wear it (rather than, say, carry around a ring box). It makes sense that he’d give it to her, and that she’d refuse it. And it makes sense that she’d be still wearing the star-moon necklace. So all these elements work together without seeming forced or fanwanky, which makes the symbolism even nicer — that Jan-di can’t accept Ji-hoo’s gift (i.e., his feelings) because she’s already wearing Jun-pyo’s.

All the while, Jun-pyo watches from his car. Naturally this isn’t easy for him to watch, since all he sees is the hug and he can’t know that Jan-di has just confessed her unwavering love for him.

He takes to lurking around the neighborhood, which is how he happens to see another shady character lurking — the disgruntled ex-Shinhwa employee, who is under the mistaken impression that Ji-hoo is Jun-pyo.

When Ji-hoo comes into view, the ex-Shinhwa man gets into his car and revs the engine with maniacal determination, muttering that he’ll bring Shinhwa down with him.

Ji-hoo doesn’t notice the car heading toward him, but Jun-pyo does, and he realizes that his friend is about to be mowed down. He leaps into the street, shoves Ji-hoo aside, and gets hit instead.

The impact actually looks really painful — Ji-hoo takes a hard hit too, but it’s nothing compared to Jun-pyo, who receives the full brunt of the collision and flies over the windshield and roof, crumpling on the ground. Ji-hoo races to him and calls for emergency help.

When Madam Kang arrives — looking genuinely worried — Jun-hee confronts her angrily: “Are you satisfied now? Is this what you wanted? You said this was all for Jun-pyo in the end.”

Madam Kang is unusually quiet, not responding as Jun-hee continues, “Do you know one thing that your son enjoys eating, what he likes, what he wants to do?”

When Mr. Jung confirms that Jun-pyo’s surgery went smoothly, Madam Kang turns to leave — she has an important meeting. That riles Jun-hee up further, who calls after her mother, “Was our father not enough? Answer me! Tell me if what’s important to you is Shinhwa or Jun-pyo!”

Madam Kang leaves, but for once her hard exterior slips a little. Jan-di comes running, sees Mama Kang sitting, and approaches. But rather than taking this moment to kick her when she’s down (which honestly, she’s earned the right to do at this point), Jan-di sits quietly for a moment. When she speaks, it’s without rancor:

Jan-di: “Jun-pyo really likes egg rolls and ramen. He particularly likes the fish cakes at pojangmachas [street stalls]. He’d eat twenty at once. He likes packing lunch and going on picnics, and he likes looking at the stars through the telescope his parents gave him.”

All throughout this, Mama Kang has remained silent, though her expression is more vulnerable than we’ve seen from her. Jan-di says insistently, “Don’t worry, he’ll get better.”

Mom gets up to go without acknowledging Jan-di, but the words have their impact. On the way home, Mama Kang tells Mr. Jung to pull over at a pojangmacha, where she watches a father and son eating fish cake skewers together. She even — omo! — sheds a tear. But because Lee Hye-young is awesome, her performance isn’t TOO soft, and she soon recovers her brusque demeanor.

(By the way — good lordy, do we really need a flashback here to Jan-di’s pojangmacha comment from a minute prior? I think this just proves that BBF’s problem isn’t that the drama is made by idiots, or that its fans are idiots — it’s that the drama makers just think the fans are idiots.)

At the clinic, Ji-hoo remembers the last thing Jun-pyo had told him after being hit by the car: “I told you, it can’t be anyone but you.”

It’s a callback to the night before his wedding, when Jun-pyo admitted how he didn’t want to give Jan-di up, but Ji-hoo was the only person he could bear seeing her go to.

In the hospital, Jan-di holds Jun-pyo’s hand and cries, feeling guilty for the way she’d broken up with him. In another nice moment, Jan-di’s tearful confession here echoes the tearful confession she’d made way back when Jun-pyo had faked his injury:

Jan-di: “Gu Jun-pyo, do you hear me? I lied to you again. To me, you’re always just Gu Jun-pyo. You’re the dummy Gu Jun-pyo who likes the unpretty, poor, nameless me. So wake up. Wake up, Gu Jun-pyo.”

And then, time passes. Jan-di returns to Seoul (moving back with her family) and resumes her school life. Some time later, F3 finds her at school to announce the good news: Jun-pyo has woken up.

Everyone gathers in his hospital room to welcome him back to the land of the conscious. Woo-bin drawls, “Yo ma bro, welcome back,” which is hilarious and also makes me admit that I’ve really missed his embarrassing gangsta-speak.

Ji-hoo tells him, “Thanks for surviving,” and everyone’s relieved to see that Jun-pyo’s old arrogance is back. Until, of course, he looks blankly at Jan-di and wonders, “What’s with that chick?”

That startles everyone — how can he not know Geum Jan-di? (Jun-pyo: “Geum Jan-di? What’s that?”) They test his memory, but he knows who everyone else is: “Should I know her? Ji-hoo, is she your girlfriend?”

More tests are performed, and while he’d been previously pronounced healthy, the doctor thinks that his selective amnesia could be a symptom of stress, or trauma. (Yeah, I know, selective amnesia = stupidest fake-disease ever, but it’s in the original, so sigh.)

Because there’s only one person Jun-pyo cannot remember, the doctor speculates that it may mean that person is linked to really painful things or was really important to him. It’s unclear how long it might take to recover his memory — six months, perhaps years.

Through this all, Jan-di continues to visit Jun-pyo, trying not to let her disappointment show when he fails to recognize her.

It’s difficult, though, because not only does he not remember their relationship, he’s back to treating her as he did before — namely, as an insignificant, unfashionable commoner. When she drops by alone, he grumbles, “What makes you think you can just barge into someone’s hospital room whenever you want? Are you interested in me?”

He’s still under the impression that she’s Ji-hoo’s girlfriend, and she starts to correct him, saying, “I’m more your girl than Ji-hoo’s…” But he cuts her off and rudely says, “Get lost.”

Jan-di takes out her frustration on the vending machine, which is when a girl comes up and kicks the machine for her. She hands Jan-di the drink and introduces herself in an open, friendly way — she’s Jang Yumi, a second-year high school student who has broken her leg in a ski accident.

When Yumi explains that she’s cheerful because she doesn’t want to be one of those patients who sinks into depression or irritability, Jan-di asks how one would deal with a person like that, thinking of Jun-pyo. Yumi answers, “Just naturally.”

Spotting Jun-pyo attempting to walk down the hall, Yumi approaches him and tries to help, calling him oppa and offering her crutch. Jun-pyo initially treats her like an annoying pest and tells her to get lost — and Jan-di attempts to offer her help to keep him from Yumi (lol).

But when faced with the option of accepting the help of one annoying girl or another, he opts for Yumi’s, and leaves Jan-di looking after them, hurt.

F3 try to figure out how to get Jun-pyo’s memory back, mulling over their options — should they give Jun-pyo another shock? (Suuure, hit the head-trauma patient in the head!)

They decide they’ll have to jog his memory by bringing up a memorable moment involving Jan-di — say, for instance, their first encounter with the ice cream cone. Thus they stage an encounter so Jan-di can shove her ice cream cone at him, stick a card to his head, and tell him, “Call me when you get your memory back.”

Unfortunately, that has no effect. Woo-bin resolves, “This was too weak. Let’s try something stronger next.”

Their next plan has Jan-di storming into the hospital room, flinging a towel in Jun-pyo’s face (to re-enact the spinning kick encounter). But Jun-pyo just asks, “Why do you keep messing with me? I’m not going to take any more, even if you are Ji-hoo’s girl.”

Continuing with the re-enactment, Jan-di clenches her fists and growls, “I told you I’m not going to take any more!” and flies into the kick (although she doesn’t hit anything). (Btw, I love how intently F3 watch for his reaction. It’s hysterical.)

Too bad Jun-pyo just yells at Ji-hoo, “Keep her out of my sight!”

Ji-hoo tries to cheer Jan-di up, saying, “Don’t worry. You’re not someone who can be forgotten that easily.” Ruefully, Jan-di wonders, “Who knows, maybe things were so difficult for him he wanted to forget.” Ji-hoo: “If your relationship could have been more easily forgotten, would that have been easier?”

They’re joined outside by Yumi and Jun-pyo, who are getting along pretty well, it seems. Jun-pyo’s actually laughing along with her chatter, although when they spot the other two, he shows no warmth for Jan-di.

Interestingly, when Yumi cheerfully introduces herself to Ji-hoo, whom she assumes is Jan-di’s boyfriend, he doesn’t even bother to acknowledge her. He’s not overtly mean TO her, he just pretends she doesn’t exist and walks right by to Jun-pyo, ignoring her overture.

(I know how this plays in the original, but for the purposes of seeing this plot play out here, I’m going to stick with thinking this is an intriguing little exchange.)

That night, Yumi drops by Jun-pyo’s room bearing pizza, which they eat together outside. She looks up at the sky and asks if he likes stars, which triggers a memory — the one at the Jeju villa with Jan-di. However, he can’t see Jan-di’s face in the memory, and wears a troubled look as he tells Yumi, “I think I’ve forgotten something important. But I can’t remember. It feels like my chest is going to burst in frustration.”

Yumi advises that he not push himself to remember — if it’s really important, it’ll come back. And if it doesn’t, it probably wasn’t that important anyway.

When F3 arrive with Jan-di, they note that they’re seeing an awful lot of Yumi lately. Not picking up on the implication (read: “We’re seeing you too much, so get lost”), Yumi links her arm through Jun-pyo’s and announces that they’re the official “Hospital Couple.”

Ji-hoo: “Do you still not remember?”
Jun-pyo: “What is it I’m supposed to remember?”
Ji-hoo: “Geum Jan-di. Don’t you?”
Jun-pyo: “You keep going on about Jan-di. Why do I have to remember your girl?”

Worse yet, Jun-pyo mutters that Ji-hoo should’ve picked a better girlfriend instead of such a common gangster like Jan-di, and tells him not to bring her around anymore.

That sets off Ji-hoo’s temper, and he lunges for Jun-pyo, just barely held back by F2. Jan-di tells Ji-hoo to stop, and they all walk off, leaving Jun-pyo bewildered: “What’s with him?”

Later, Ji-hoo apologizes to Jan-do for losing his temper. Jan-di responds, “I didn’t stop you because I was afraid you’d hurt him. It’s because if you hit him, you’d hurt more.”

Ji-hoo tells her, “You don’t have to act so brave with me.” Jan-di: “It’s not acting brave, it’s that because you’re here, you give me strength.”

She doesn’t mean anything romantic by it — and she’s made her feelings clear — so she breaks the moment by getting up for some tea, leaving Ji-hoo to brood alone.


COMMENTS

I know I’m not the only one who has tired of the Soeulmater relationship, although they were at one point the highlight of my BBF watching experience. I think it was around the same time Yi-jung turned into a pathetic emo wreck and Ga-eul lost her spunk.

For the sake of nostalgia, I’d be happy to see these two end up together, and also wouldn’t mind having this one point deviate from the rest of Hana Yori Dango canon. Just to keep things fresh. However, I’m not emotionally committed (as committed as I can be to this drama at this point) to this outcome anymore, and I actually think this episode left their relationship at a nice parting point for me. If they get together after this, great. If not, I think it works too.

If they ARE going to keep this going, I think the flicker of hope comes in Yi-jung’s reaction to Ga-eul “breaking up” with him. If she hadn’t spoken up, I think he may have suggested they try dating — but that would have been in a casual, “normal” dating relationship. But if he still wants to be with her now, I think it should mean something more — kind of how you don’t realize what you’re losing until you’ve lost it.

I expect to be in the minority about the amnesia plotline, but I actually really dug it here. Well, clarification — I hated the idea that we were getting it and I was bracing myself in anticipation. But given that it’s a prominent point in the manga and was going to be included, if we HAD to have it, I was relieved that it made sense in context.

The circumstances that led to the accident and its significance flowed logically — and, as we know, logic isn’t exactly this drama’s strong suit. For instance, it makes sense that Jun-pyo was being targeted by a disgruntled man with a Shinhwa vendetta, as well as how he acted to save Ji-hoo. The rescue, significantly, occurs just after he’s seen Ji-hoo looking chummy with Jan-di, when he should be feeling the most grudging toward his friend.

But that’s not the case, and even as he passes out, Jun-pyo’s last words are, “It can’t be anyone else but you.” The spoiled little rich boy has learned, hasn’t he? He’s come a long way since he broke Ji-hoo’s robot (albeit accidentally). (I’ll say it again: NICE.)

How awesome is Mama Kang, huh?

I mean, awesomely twisted and bitchy and plain wrong, but still, as a character she is so complex and acted so fantastically that I just love to hate her, and also love to love her.

In the past, I loved her as the awesome villain, because she was frightening and cruel, but in a supremely chilly way. I didn’t particularly need her to be that humanized because she has always been the unequivocal villain in this drama, but I always appreciated whenever she showed her layers underneath all that wickedness and evilry.

But I hadn’t expected to see this much vulnerability from her — when she shed a tear, it was like it cracked her mask to reveal the humanity underneath for a split second. I never thought I’d see true emotion from her, and it was great. Yet interestingly enough, the hint of vulnerability in no way makes her less scary for me. I think the fact that she shows a moment of true emotion, then swiftly covers it up and resumes her normal exterior, is probably just as frightening a prospect as if she were always cruel. ‘Cause this lady, she has control.

Furthermore, the scene between Jan-di and Mama Kang (thankfully without music, too!) was another “NICE” moment today. Jan-di has frustrated me to no end when she hasn’t asserted herself as much as she used to, and she even let Madam Kang drive her away last episode. But when she passes up the chance to poke at her raw wounds, Jan-di did something unexpected and proved herself to be the Bigger Person in a way that I admire.

She didn’t exult that she knew Jun-pyo better (and she could have, saying everything in a tone of “I know him so much better than you do”) but instead, she just shared. She let her in on the secret rather than keeping it to herself — which is something Mom could never do. Yunno, since love can be spread around instead of controlled tightly, guarded jealously like something with a price and a limit.

EPISODE 25 RECAP (FINAL)

Jan-di visits the hospital in the early morning, while Jun-pyo is still sleeping. She makes a joking comment trying to magic back his memory (“abra cadabra, make Gu Jun-pyo remember Geum Jan-di”), then drops off her dosirak lunchbox at his bedside.

Later that morning, Yumi comes by. I want to give her the benefit of the doubt (so far she’s annoying, but not evil), but really, she’s got boundary issues to be slipping into a sleeping patient’s room and applying a skincare device to his face while he sleeps. That wakes him up.

Glancing over at the side table, he wonders what the lunchbox is doing there. Yumi opens the containers, and as she pulls out the Jun-pyo Face Rice tray and the egg roll-up snacks, Jun-pyo furrows his brow, a thought niggling at the back of his mind.

He tries one of the egg rolls, and the taste jogs his memory — it gives him a vague (good) feeling. Jun-pyo asks if she made the food, and for a brief moment Yumi hesitates, as though wondering how to answer, then nods. He says, “I remember. The thing I forgot — it was you, right?”

Although you get the sense she hadn’t intended to lie at first, this is too good for her to pass up, so she goes with it.

F2 arrive at the restaurant for some lunch, while the girls watch in puzzlement, wondering why they’re here. Finally, when they’re done eating, they announce the good news: Jun-pyo’s been released from the hospital.

Jan-di perks up. The guys encourage her to go to him, and she rushes off excitedly.

Yi-jung remains behind, because he has something to say to Ga-eul. They watch clay baking in a kiln as Ga-eul muses, “They look happy, those plates inside. For some reason, rather than thinking they’re hurting in that heat, it feels like they’re happy. They’re full of hope that if they endure this, they can come out and receive love.”

Yi-jung has two things to tell her, and starts with the bad news first, the way she likes it: He’s leaving. He adds, “I guess that may not be bad news to you.” He plans to remain abroad for four or five years.

Ga-eul tries to be optimistic, saying it’s actually good news because he’ll be sure to return an even better potter. She asks for the second part, so he tells her, “When I come back, I’ll come find you first.”

That’s even more startling than the first, but makes her much happier. Perhaps Yi-jung is a little uncomfortable to have opened up, because he adds, “I mean, if you can’t find your soulmate by then.” But that’s enough of a confession for Ga-eul, who breaks into a smile.

Eager to see Jun-pyo, Jan-di rushes into his room, calling out a welcome greeting, then stops short: Yumi is already there. Jun-pyo just tells her that Ji-hoo’s not here, and that she should take care of her boyfriend before rushing to check up on him.

At his ungracious non-welcome, Jan-di figures this was a mistake, and turns to go. Yumi steps in to admonish Jun-pyo for being mean, and urges Jan-di to stay for tea. It’s an odd dynamic, because Yumi has usurped Jan-di’s position as hostess, and I’m not the only one who thinks she’s an upstart: the maids also direct dirty looks at Yumi.

Jun-pyo acts pretty friendly and relaxed with Yumi, which is hard for Jan-di to watch, so she gets up to leave. Jun-pyo tosses out casually, “Don’t come by again.” (He doesn’t say so in a mean tone, but maybe it’s all the more hurtful that he’s so blasé about something that means so much.) He adds, “When I see you, I feel really bad. It bothers me.”

Jan-di retorts, “Fine. I’m sorry! I won’t come by anymore!”

Yumi reads the tension and follows Jan-di outside to ask, “Are you the person Jun-pyo oppa is supposed to remember?” She sees that Jan-di is, and takes a tone of concern as she says, “But as you can tell, I think it’s worse for him to see you. If he sees you, I think his condition will deteriorate. So for now, I think it’ll be better if you don’t drop by. Don’t worry, I’ll do my best to bring back his memories of you naturally.”

Yumi’s words are reassuring, but Jan-di is also a little doubtful; after Yumi rejoins Jun-pyo, Jan-di peers inside. Jun-pyo asks Yumi to make the lunchbox again — proof that Yumi had taken credit for her lunch, which probably means she’s lying about the rest, too.

Upset, Jan-di rushes down the stairs on the way out and bumps into Ji-hoo, who tells her firmly, “Don’t run away.”

Jan-di tries to escape, but Ji-hoo says, “You can’t be pushed aside like this.” Pulling Jan-di behind him, he heads for Jun-pyo’s room. Unfortunately, they find Jun-pyo and Yumi napping cozily on the couch together.

That hurts. Jan-di rebuffs Ji-hoo’s attempts to reason with her (and persuade her to fight for Jun-pyo), telling him that it’s over, she’s done: “Even if he lost his memory, even if we started over from the beginning, I had faith he would recognize me. But I was wrong.”

Ji-hoo starts to protest, but Jan-di isn’t swayed:

Jan-di: “No, it may be upsetting and unfair, but I have to acknowledge the truth. The Gu Jun-pyo I loved is gone now.”
Ji-hoo: “I told you that you couldn’t be the little mermaid. I can’t let you two break up over such a ridiculous thing.”
Jan-di: “This isn’t because of Yumi. In the end, Geum Jan-di and Gu Jun-pyo could only make it this far.”

Yumi presents her lunchbox to Jun-pyo, who eats an egg roll with anticipation. However, the moment he registers the taste, he frowns: “This isn’t it. The taste is different from before. Did you really make it that time?”

Yumi stutters, “O-of course! Who else could have made it? That’s just because every time I make it, the taste is a little different. I’ll make it right next time.”

But something’s not right, and the taste of the food just enhances his bad feeling. He says, frustrated, “That girl. That Jan-di weed girl — I can’t forget her expression.”

Yumi: “That’s too mean! How could you say that? I’m the one who was with you, from the hospital up till now, but you feel so bothered by a girl who just dropped by and bugged you a few times? Your friends all treat me badly and take her side, and her boyfriend totally ignores me. But still, I put up with it because of you. If you act like this too, what is Yumi supposed to do?”

For us who know the truth, she’s obviously way over the line with this speech — but if she really WAS Jun-pyo’s girlfriend, I suppose this is how she would react, and she’s acting her part to the hilt. She cries, and makes Jun-pyo feel uncomfortable.

The guilt trip works, because the next thing we know, Yumi and Jun-pyo are jointly hosting a “surprise pool party.” (I’m wondering what the surprise is, if they’re handing out formal invitations.) The setting is absolutely gorgeous. In fact, this entire episode is pretty visually stunning, on the whole.

Yumi wastes some screentime with a harp performance — and seriously, Mr. Jeon PD, do you really have to pay tribute to yourself (again!) by using a My Girl theme song here?

Feeling pretty low, Jan-di steps aside to be alone. Yumi finds her by the pool and keeps up the ruse that she’s been working to “help” Jan-di. She has news to report, but it’s not good: “He doesn’t remember you.”

Yumi speaks obnoxiously about herself in the third person (because we don’t already hate her enough?): “I’m sorry to tell you, but Yumi likes Jun-pyo. I didn’t try to deliberately, but I ended up falling for him, so much that I can’t break up with him. Oppa feels the same as Yumi. But you can understand, can’t you? We can’t control our hearts.”

Yumi draws everyone’s attention to make a big announcement: She and Jun-pyo are going to study abroad together to the States. They will leave in one month.

F3 marvel in a sort of disgusted fascination at Yumi’s fast maneuvering. Ji-hoo leads Jan-di away from the crowd to the pool, where he leaves her while for a moment to get her a drink.

Alone, Jan-di takes out her star-moon necklace, just as Jun-pyo walks by. As soon as he sees her, Jun-pyo turns to leave, but Jan-di asks if he remembers the necklace she’s holding, or the names engraved on it. Jun-pyo takes a look at the “JJ” and says irritably, “How would I know that?”

Jan-di holds it out to him: “I’m giving it back. Take it.” None of this makes sense for Jun-pyo, and he retorts, “Why would I take something like this? If you want to get rid of it, do it yourself.”

He hands it back. Jan-di says, almost defiantly, “Fine.” She throws the necklace into the pool, where it settles on the bottom. But she’s not quite done:

Jan-di: “Gu Jun-pyo. I’ll ask just one more thing. Do you know how to swim?”
Jun-pyo: “Swim? I don’t swim.”
Jan-di: “You don’t, or you can’t?”
Jun-pyo: “I have a bad childhood memory, so I don’t swim. I’ve never learned.”
Jan-di: “No. You did know how.”

Jun-pyo bristles at the way Jan-di is talking about him so familiarly, but her words start to unnerve him, particularly as she tells him what kind of person he truly is (including a few of the sayings he’d messed up previously):

Jan-di: “You’re hardly afraid of anything in this world, yet you shake in fear over a bug. You’re an idiot who thinks it’s better to get all your ribs bashed in than see one of your girl’s fingers break. You’re a dummy who can’t tell the difference between the words privacy and pride, who insists like a train that swallowed its heart that the 38th Strategy [of ancient China] is running away [it's the 36th]. You say you hate kids, but you want to be a devoted father who watches the stars with your son. You’re a lonely person with a lot of love.”

Uneasily, Jun-pyo demands, “What are you really after?”

Jan-di tells him, “Say my name,” then starts to step backward, slowly, purposefully. At the edge of the pool, Jan-di pauses… and then lets herself fall backward into the pool.

It’s an eerily beautiful image as she hits the water, stiff as a board.

In the pool, Jan-di picks up the necklace, but doesn’t come back up to the surface. Clutching the necklace, she remains submerged.

The rest of the party rushes to the water’s edge, alarmed. Jun-pyo stands frozen in shock… and then, memories come flooding back.

In quick succession, he flashes to all the other water-related emergencies earlier in the drama (if I didn’t love this moment so much it would be funny that they have enough of those to compile a montage).

He whispers, “Jan-di.” Then, jolted out of his stupor, Jun-pyo shouts her name again, and dives in.


Memory now back in full force, Jun-pyo pulls her to safety, where he tries to revive her. In a panic, he administers CPR and calls her name repeatedly, until Jan-di sputters awake.

She looks up and asks weakly, “Do you remember now?” He tells her he’s sorry, and she asks him to say her name again.

He clutches her to him and obliges.

(Yumi walks off, petulant. Good riddance!)

And then, it’s back to everyday life, kinda.

Jan-di and her family are back at their old place in Seoul, and she’s about to graduate. She doesn’t intend on going to her graduation party, although her mother urges her to.

Jun-pyo calls her out to congratulate her on her upcoming graduation. He also asks if she’s really serious about medical school, teasing about how she’s not smart enough.

He’s also here to request a date. Echoing an early scene, Jun-pyo traps Jan-di against his car, leans in closely, and says: “Tomorrow, ___.”

Naturally, just as he relays that crucial bit of information, a passing motorcycle drowns out his words. Jun-pyo thinks his message is clear and warns Jan-di that if she’s late this time, she’s really dead.

True to her word, Jan-di doesn’t plan on showing up to her graduation party, but a stretch limo pulls up (presumably from Jun-pyo) to take her — so when she arrives at the formal party, she’s still wearing her school uniform. (Let’s ignore the horrid dancing and the familiar set, shall we?)

F3 greet her warmly, and Woo-bin steps up first to ask her to dance. This allows each person a send-off as each gets his moment with Jan-di. As she dances with Woo-bin, she thinks, “Song Woo-bin, he’s always reliable and caring, as though he was the eldest in F4. I know now that he understands better than anyone how to comfort a person’s feelings, while standing one step behind.”

With Yi-jung, she thinks: “He acts cold and like a bad boy, but in reality he’s warm and innocent. Thanks to Yi-jung sunbae, I think Ga-eul has really become a lovable woman.”

Ji-hoo’s last:

“I was like Alice dropped into Wonderland. Could he know what a huge solace he was to me, that I was able to meet him whenever I went to that emergency door? He’s like a ‘bonus’ given to me from heaven. I won’t ever forget him. My soulmate Ji-hoo sunbae, thank you.”

When Jun-pyo doesn’t make his appearance, the guys wonder what’s keeping him. Jan-di thinks back to his drowned-out words, and now realizes what this reminds her of — and rushes off to Namsan Tower.

Sure enough, Jun-pyo’s waiting for her and asks, “Didn’t I say you were dead if you were late?” But he’s not upset, and with a snap of his fingers, lights fill the courtyard.

Jun-pyo comments, “It’s nothing magical. Stuff like this is really easy — compared to tending to the Jan-di-baht.” (Literally, “maintaining the grass.”)

Since this is a reenactment of their first date (albeit upgraded), Jun-pyo buys her coffee, then leads her to the viewing deck. In a cute moment, Jun-pyo brings her to the cable car, intending on pointing out the graffiti he’d written on their first date, but Jan-di’s embarrassed and blocks his view.

She complains, “Why’d you write this, and make it impossible for me to get married?” (This means that it makes her look promiscuous and would therefore be a stain on her character.)

Jun-pyo doesn’t see the problem: “Then just marry me — who else are you thinking of marrying?” In contrast to her grimace, Jun-pyo looks at the scrawled words proudly, announcing, “Now you can’t get married.” (To anyone else.)

But now it’s time for them to get down to some serious talk. Jan-di tenses nervously when Jun-pyo’s tone turns solemn: “Let’s marry.”

Jan-di doesn’t know whether he’s joking — he isn’t — and is completely taken aback, since she just graduated from high school. Jun-pyo explains, “I have to go to America. This time it’s not because of my mother, or the company. I decided this.”

He’s decided to take his future into his own hands: “I’m going to do my best. If I can save the company, that’s good. If I can’t, I’ll shut it down with my own hands.”

Jan-di’s dismayed when he says that he’ll be back in four years at best, asking, “That long?” Jun-pyo: “So come with me.”

But that’s not the magic solution, and it’s Jan-di’s turn to grow (more) solemn. She can’t go with him: “When you went to Macau, I made a decision too, regarding my dream, my work, what I want to be. Like you, I have something I want to devote myself to, and it’s here.”

It’s not a rejection, it’s reality butting in. Jan-di says with a hint of a smile, “Go, and come back. In four years, if you come back as a really impressive man, I’ll think about it again then.”

At this, the mood lightens. Maybe it’s not an ideal solution, but the compromise will work for them. Jun-pyo asks, half-jokingly, “Do you mean that? If you lose me, you’ll really regret it.” She teases back, “Hey, if you lose me, you’re the one who’ll regret it.”

Jun-pyo has no problems admitting, “I know that if I lose you, I’ll regret it till I die.”

Once again repeating some words she’d formerly told him, Jan-di says, “Gu Jun-pyo. You may not be a complete idiot.”



And now, we’re four years later.

Jun-pyo has made significant progress as a managing director with the company, and is being interviewed on television. While it starts with his business successes, the interview segues into personal questions. Naturally, as a rich, young, handsome chaebol, Jun-pyo’s the target of a lot of crushes and romance speculation.

When asked whether there’s anybody in his life to help him through the hard times, Jun-pyo responds, “It would be a lie to say I haven’t had tough times or been lonely. But because of a promise I made with somebody, I drew upon that as support and was able to endure.”

Watching proudly are Jun-pyo’s family — Mama Kang actually shows warmth as she watches alongside her husband, showing him affection that we’d never seen from her. It looks like she’s finally showing the personality that the others have hinted at — the kinder version of herself before she’d become Shinhwa chair.

And maybe the biggest surprise in this epilogue is that Jun-hee has now taken over from her mother’s position — she’s the new Shinhwa chair.

Next up: Yi-jung, who arrives at the airport with dark shades and a swagger. (I’m sorry, Yi-jung being badass just makes me giggle.) True to his word, he heads first to Ga-eul, who is now a teacher. He watches as she leads her young students in a pottery session, then steps in.

It’s adorable how one of the little girls looks at Yi-jung and asks, “Ajusshi, did you come from abroad?” He’s surprised that she guessed right, and she follows up, “Did you come from Sweden?” Is he their teacher’s boyfriend? ‘Cause, y’see, Teacher Lady mentioned something about someone in Sweden… A little embarrassed, Ga-eul moves to shut the girl up, but Yi-jung enjoys this proof that she’s been talking about him to her kids. (SO CUTE.)

Now, for Jan-di. And, somewhat surprisingly, also Ji-hoo.

She is a student at Shinhwa University’s medical school, as is Ji-hoo. As we might expect, Jan-di’s sorta struggling along, klutzy and bumbling as ever, while Ji-hoo is doing very well and about to graduate.

Today, they’re on a sort of medical outreach trip. During a break, Jan-di sighs to Ji-hoo about her tough time, and he teases her about failing.

A sudden disturbance interrupts their conversation — a helicopter hovers above, and a familiar voice comes over the loudspeaker. Just like a prior scene when Jun-pyo crashed Jan-di’s working vacation on the fishing boat, he now announces, “Oy, commoner! Can you hear me? Geum Jan-di!”

He instructs her meet him at the beach and zooms away.

When she arrives at the beach, well, now THIS really is almost paradise! (Yes, I’ll admit it — despite making my ears bleed earlier, I was glad to hear the return of “Almost Paradise” after its extended vacation.)

Jan-di approaches with gladness, but a little disbelief to see Jun-pyo here in the flesh .

Indicating her white coat, he teases that she looks like “an ugly duckling playing at being the white egret” — another callback to a previous Jun-pyo-ism (he means swan). At that, Jan-di laughs, “It really is you.”

Pulling her to him in a hug, Jun-pyo says, “I missed you to death. I’m not letting go again.”

He reminds her that she’d agreed to marry him when he came back. Jan-di returns, “Look here, Dummy Gu Jun-pyo. If you want to get technical, I said when you came back in four years, I’d think about it.”

Jun-pyo drops down to one knee, pulls out a ring box, and makes it official: “Geum Jan-di. Marry me.”

And of course, at that moment a voice calls out:

Ji-hoo: “I have an objection to that proposal!”
Yi-jung: “I do, too!”
Woo-bin: “Me too! You two can’t agree without our approval!”

THE END (finally)



And, okay, another Song of the Day, just because:

Rumble Fish – “사랑해 마지막 그날까지” (I’ll Love You Till My Last Day). If this were a movie, this would be the point halfway through the ending credits where the main song ends and a second song starts up. [ Download ]



I’m going to start off with the criticism, because ultimately I was happy with the ending and would prefer to end on an upbeat note. So I’ll pull a “Ga-eul” here and start with the bad:


WEAKNESSES (aka, Stuff I Just Let Slide):

(1) Madam Kang’s witchy opposition. Poof, gone now? To be fair, I don’t really think it’s a logic flaw, because after Jun-pyo recovers his memory, I take it we are to assume Mama Kang gave up her opposition. It actually does make sense — there’s nothing like contributing to your son’s near-death to give you a wake-up call. But on the other hand, we didn’t see that explicitly, which might give the impression that the Jun-di reconciliation happened too easily, when goodness knows it came anything but “easily.” Not after all those episodes of separation and angst.

(2) Dr. Ji-hoo. Uh, but what about The Music? Where did his doctorly pursuits come in? I get that this probably has as much to do with his grandfather as Jan-di, but it felt random. Like it was conjured just to prove again that Ji-hoo is Jan-di’s soulmate, only now it emphasizes that they’re platonic soulmates, since they’ve remained friends even though Jun-pyo’s been away.

This leads me to:

(3) Soulmates (not to be confused with Soeulmates). I’ve never been a big fan of the “Ji-hoo is Jan-di’s soulmate” aspect. Maybe we’re all conditioned to think that soulmates are a romantic thing, and maybe I resent how much time was overwhelmingly given to the soulmate and not the actual love interest. I think Kim Hyun-joong has improved a lot over the course of the drama, but I still don’t really feel the chemistry between Ji-hoo and Jan-di. The fact that they had SO many sweet, intimate moments throughout the series and I still never jumped ship indicates just how lacking their pairing was for me.

(Intellectually, I thought Ji-hoo was better for Jan-di, but I never felt their emotional connection on a gut level, and their interactions never got me excited or giddy or otherwise invested.)

On the other hand:

STUFF I LIKED:

(1) Callbacks, yay! I enjoyed all the revisited past moments and bits of dialogue that were injected into the finale. I’ve seen dramas do this in the past, but a lot of times they feel forced in. Boys Before Flowers surprised me by doing a good job of incorporating past lines or interactions to build the action here. It didn’t feel like a mere rehash but a natural use of these characters’ personalities.

For instance, I liked how all of Jun-pyo’s misstated sayings came back and were worked into dialogue — both in really serious scenes (the pool) and lighter, more upbeat scenes (the cable car, the beach). In some dramas, it feels like characters are suddenly altered/forced into making the ending work, but I like that this was an example of continuity done right. Done wrong, we get blatant fanservice, but done right, it’s pretty emotionally satisfying.

(2) The epilogue. The time-skip epilogue is a risky device and is sort of an easy out. Epilogues can be problematic in that they provide a “perfect” wrap-up for characters, kinda like sticking a band-aid over a more serious problem. BUT, in an over-the-top, feel-good romantic comedy like this, I’m all for it. I know there’s no such thing as a true-life Happily Ever After, but this is what I want from a giddy, lovey romance drama. The perfecter the better!

An epilogue gives us a little more time to deal with goodbyes, so we avoid the let-down feeling of a resolution that comes too quickly. I would have been sorely disappointed if we ended after the cable-car kiss — and for a few dreaded seconds, I actually thought they’d ended the drama there — but the “four years later” gave us (okay, me) that needed buffer to let myself down gradually. LOL.

(3) Soeulmates. I expressed my ambivalence about how they would wrap up, but I was pleased with their ending. I don’t think they really needed a huge finish — that would’ve taken time away from the other romance — but I like that we have hope for their future without necessarily seeing it.

The time skip works for them because they, perhaps more than Jan-di and Jun-pyo, needed to grow up and live their lives and mature some more before getting together. As much as it might have been romantic for Yi-jung to have made a big gesture at the age of 20, I wouldn’t have the hope for their future that a time skip sorta automatically takes care of.

(4) The amnesia fix. Just as I was pleasantly surprised about how the amnesia plot came about, I was pleased at how it played out.

Example: The taste thing was one part that was well tied in, because Jan-di made those foods for him in the past, and when she did, they had some significance. The first time Jun-pyo asked for those egg rollups, it was after the snowstorm. It also symbolizes something of their class differences — or rather, emphasizes the “Hey, maybe we’re not so far apart” aspect of their statuses, since Jun-pyo loves this commoner food for what it is, even though he has gourmet stuff all around. (Hey, metaphor!)

But I was glad that the taste issue alone wasn’t enough to get Jun-pyo’s memory back. Here’s where the plot diverges from Hanadan, and I was really happy with it — and frankly wished they’d diverged more often. The taste was enough to remind Jun-pyo of his newer, warm-n-fuzzy feelings, but not enough to identify all the details (like, for instance, WHO those warm-n-fuzzies were directed at).

That leads Jun-pyo to be chummy with Yumi (grrr), because he’s correlating his memory of Jan-di’s warmth (evoked by her food) with Yumi. I doubt he feels anything for Yumi specifically; it’s more like his wires got crossed so the affection he feels for Jan-di is being misdirected at Yumi.

(5) The pool. OH, the awesomeness of the pool!

Here’s why I love that Jan-di fell into the water:

(a) It proves that despite what she tells Ji-hoo, she still does have faith in Jun-pyo. At first I thought she would merely fake being in “trouble” underwater till he jumped in to save her, but she committed to her last-ditch effort so much that she was really in danger. Was it foolish? Perhaps. But it’s also evidence of how much she believed that he would come around, because even if his conscious memory can’t recall her, she believed in their other connection — that intangible, indestructible love they feel, that connection that’s so strong that forces much stronger than plain ol’ amnesia weren’t able to sever them. (Namely, Madam Kang.)

(b) I love Jan-di’s speech to Jun-pyo, because it appears that his selective amnesia (as evidenced by his belief that he can’t swim) has blocked out the past year or so. Any feelings that resemble the Newer Jun-pyo (post-Jan-di) are mostly expressed subconsciously; everything he knows and does consciously is from pre-Jan-di times. So in her speech, Jan-di speaks to the Jun-pyo who changed for/because of her. The things she tells him may not even be things he realizes concretely — they’re things he’s forgotten as well — but as she talks, he feels them resonate. He can try to deny that he knows her, but he can’t deny the truth of her insight into his character, and that scares the bejeebus out of him.

(c) And most importantly, Jan-di’s jump into the pool forces Jun-pyo’s subconscious to act. Sure, all throughout the episode, Jan-di (or F3) could have told Jun-pyo the truth of their relationship, but it would’ve done little good to merely announce, “Hey, I’m your girlfriend, you idiot!” Maybe it would have helped, but it wouldn’t have provided the jolt that would return the rest of his memory — not like a good ol’ scare to the subconscious could, anyway.


OVERALL THOUGHTS

Was Boys Before Flowers a GOOD drama?

Well, no.

In all honesty, I can’t really call it good — insofar as a “good” drama requires strong acting, masterful directing, tight storytelling, and overall high quality. And it can’t just have one of those elements, but most or all of them, expressed in skillful balance.

On the other hand, it depends on how you define the word “good” for yourself. “Good” might not mean “artistic” to you; it might not mean “eloquent” or “insightful.” Good might mean entertaining, or emotionally provocative. Excitement-inducing. Enjoyable to watch and rewatch and participate in fan culture. And in those measures, I’d say BBF delivered.

Because sure, an Academy Award-winning film deserves its praise, but to be frank, they’re not always entertaining. Or they may be beautiful and meaningful, but not move the heart.

Boys Before Flowers was kind of a glorious mess — the acting was sometimes very good, sometimes horribly bad. The music was decent, but applied carelessly in messy spurts like a five-year-old who’s sneaked her way into mommy’s makeup stash for the first time. The writing had its moments, but more often than not was poorly paced, and as we know you can’t build an entire drama upon random nice moments.

But it also had its weird brand of narcotic magic. If you stuck around till the end, you know what I’m talkin’ about. If you didn’t, well, you may still know what I’m talking about, even if you were never under the influence. A film snob may sniff at “the masses” — and I’ve been that person too — but so what? Let the snob enjoy his lofty solitude while we masses can commune with each other and laugh and cry together.

I was actually reading a book somewhere around the middle of BBF’s run, and a paragraph leapt off the page and just about smacked me in the face with its aptness. And who can argue with the words of the (late, great) awesome David Foster Wallace?

“At root, vulgar just means popular on a mass scale. It is the semantic opposite of pretentious or snobby. It is humility with a comb-over. It is Nielsen ratings and Barnum’s axiom and the real bottom line. It is big, big business.”

Truer words, y’all.

Okay, okay, I’m done! Finally!

I’ve had SO MUCH FUN, you guys! I think the drama has reached its time to go, so I’m not sad that the series is over, but I will miss the insanity of this drama. All the discussion, the fangirling (myself included), the plot dissection, future predictions, kvetching about story insanity, snarking about ridiculosity, and yes, even bitching about everything that drove us crazy.

Honestly, I haven’t been this entertained following a drama in a while. True, in a vacuum, this product itself is far from perfect — but thankfully, I don’t consume my entertainment in a vacuum, but out here in the wilds of the internet as part of an enthusiastic community.

THANKS FOR ALL THE FUN TIMES!