"Kazusa's just a shameless homewrecker. She's back to seduce Haruki again—so disgusting."
"Oh? Weren't you the one who didn't complain when Setsuna seduced Haruki away from Kazusa in the first place? Can't take it now that the tables are turning?"
"That's called karma. Yeah, Kazusa's actions might not be right, but since it's Setsuna she's going up against, I've got no complaints."
"I was so happy watching this episode. Teacher Jing Yu is the GOAT! Finally, we Kazusa fans are getting justice. Yes, let Setsuna fall and be the loser for once."
"Don't get cocky, Kazusa stans. The real winner will be Setsuna. The homewrecker never wins in the end."
"Yeah, and when Haruki and Setsuna get married, guess who they'll invite to the wedding? Kazusa!"
On every major TV drama forum across the country, heated arguments like this broke out daily.
Even though the winter season had officially begun, 'White Album 2' remained white-hot in popularity.
Every episode was consistently pulling in an average viewership above 3%.
Episode 14:
Kazusa, under the forced arrangement of her mother, Yoko Touma, moved into the apartment right next door to Haruki.
Her bank card was frozen, and she was completely broke until her concert ended, so she had no choice but to accept her mother's arrangement.
And just like that, the story took a sharp turn.
Yoko Touma, using her power and influence, put immense pressure on Haruki's company and personal life (a divine assist for her daughter).
As a result, Haruki was forced into a secret neighborly cohabitation with Kazusa—hiding it from Setsuna.
And slowly… buried emotions began to resurface.
There was even a scene where Haruki gently tucked Kazusa's hair behind her ear while she slept.
The two of them visited their old high school and reminisced together.
Kazusa, unable to hold back her emotions, finally broke down in tears and said the now-iconic line of the series:
"I was first.
I kissed you first.
I hugged you first.
I loved you first.
I didn't want to lose you to anyone.
But that day...
I lost everything to Setsuna.
Who would've thought… that there'd be a second person in this world weird enough to fall for you, too."
Even though this was ultimately Setsuna's true ending route, the entire middle section of the final arc was dominated by Kazusa's story.
Friendship, love, betrayal—
The tangled relationship between the three was brought to its most painful extreme.
In just two episodes, all the emotional goodwill that Setsuna fans had built up during the University Arc was shattered.
From Episode 14, the show fully returned to the gut-wrenching tone of the High School Arc.
Setsuna fans were heartbroken watching Haruki lie to her over and over.
Kazusa fans were heartbroken watching Kazusa carry years of unspoken love, alone in a foreign country.
And Haruki?
He became the punching bag for both fan bases once again.
But strangely enough, instead of declining,
'White Album 2's ratings climbed higher.
Episode 14 averaged 3.12%.
Meanwhile, the performance of other winter season dramas was becoming clear.
In the wake of 'White Album 2's fall season success,
Every other network jumped on the "musical melodrama" bandwagon.
There were 27 dramas in the winter season with similar "music + tragic love" themes.
Example 1:
"Symphonic Miracle" – Minghui TV
A girl plays piano, a boy plays violin.
The first episode started at 1.03%.
By the end?
Dropped to 0.94%.
Online reviews:
"The music quality is trash."
"Are they playing with their feet?"
Example 2:
"Musical Poem" – Suihe TV
Love triangle between three music prodigies at a prestigious academy.
Viewers bailed within the first ten minutes.
The culprit?
The suona.
(A traditional Chinese wind instrument with a high-pitched, jarring tone.)
Families watching together at night were attacked by their elderly relatives for playing "ghost music dramas."
Example 3:
"White April" – Tumu TV (T/N: You sure its not TEMU)
The title alone made fans suspicious. Sounded too familiar.
And sure enough—the writing?
An unholy abomination.
The setup:
A terminally ill piano girl silently pines for her class president.
But her best friend (the sweet and supportive student rep) confesses to the same guy—without realizing the girl's feelings.
And then—plot twist:
The girl dies. IN EPISODE ONE.
No time for character attachment. No slow burn. Just instant death.
Audiences didn't even have time to get emotionally invested.
Some were even laughing out of disbelief.
But then...
A twin sister who looks exactly like the dead girl appears.
She reads the diary, misinterprets everything, and decides:
"My sister died from heartbreak.
So I'm going to seduce her crush away from her best friend.
Then I'll dump him.
Let them both suffer just like she did."
…
??????
Audience reaction:
"What the hell is this logic?!"
"Is the writer's brain made of tofu or something worse?"
"Are you insulting your intelligence or ours with this script?"
Sure, the title "White April" was catchy.
But beyond that?
Nothing redeemable.
People flooded the official website with complaints.
Out of 27 musical melodramas,
Only one broke the 2% mark in ratings.
TV stations across the country were stunned.
"Wait, didn't we agree Da Zhou's audience loves music + melodrama combos?"
"We did fan surveys, market research, everything said this genre was hot!"
"So why is no one watching?!"
The truth became painfully clear:
The "secret to success" wasn't the genre.
It wasn't the music.
It wasn't the angst.
It was the writer.
Jing Yu.
He wasn't just lucky.
It wasn't that his shows were the only options.
His talent carried 'White Album 2'.
This reality hit the industry hard.
As other dramas across the winter season crashed and burned,
Viewership for tried-and-true genres like workplace, romance, and suspense remained strong.
But the copycat "music + melodrama" shows?
Dead on arrival.
Most of them were expected to hit record lows for winter ratings.
And with that…
Jing Yu's name climbed even higher in the screenwriting world.
The theory that his shows only did well because the genre was "fresh and uncompetitive" had been thoroughly debunked.
It wasn't about genre.
It was about writing skills.
Now, stations that lacked strong writers began to take notice—seriously.
By mid-October, even the Big Six networks began to reach out.
They wanted one thing:
Jing Yu.