That night, the fans of '5 Centimeters per Second' were unable to sleep.
Before ten o'clock, the first wave of viewers who had finished the film sat in stunned silence for ten minutes—then flooded every forum, venting wildly at the story and at screenwriter Jing Yu himself.
Soon after, the second batch of late‑night viewers—those who'd just finished after work—joined the uproar. Then came the third wave, the fourth …
"Why end it like that?!"
"Can I say my heart actually hurts? He spent over ten years chasing that girl of his dreams, and in the end, she didn't even wait one minute!"
"Brothers, I feel empty inside… I don't know what to do with myself."
"Why, Jing Yu, why would you write it this way? I'm bawling."
"That damn train was way too long—somebody please blow it up."
"But be honest, if that train hadn't been there, would Akari and Takaki really have ended up together?"
"Probably… not."
"And that serene smile on Takaki's face at the end? What the hell was that? He found peace—but did he think about our feelings?"
"Jing Yu‑sensei really tricked us. How could anyone make something like this?"
"Now that I'm re‑watching the trailer, I'm crying again. Little Akari waits on the other side of the tracks… she smiles at Takaki after the train passes."
"What kind of story is this? Did Akari not even miss him?"
"Of course she did—but it's been more than ten years. Takaki was a beautiful memory in her life, that's all. People don't live in the past forever. Akari moved on—she's getting married. Takaki had three girlfriends. The difference is, Akari faced the future, while Takaki couldn't… until that passing moment."
"It's been an hour since I finished it, and I'm still dizzy. I keep thinking about my first love."
"Same… it hurts. I just want to cry."
"That last song—it was called 'The Wind Rises', right?"
"Yeah, yeah—that song killed me too. The lyrics hit too hard."
All night long, new viewers kept finishing the third chapter of '5 Centimeters per Second'—then rushed online to rant, complain, and curse Jing Yu together.
Blow up the train.
'5 Centimeters per Second'.
Akari. Takaki.
Those names dominated the entire internet overnight.
Yet, once the ache dulled, people began to realize just how brilliant the story really was.
Sure, it hurt; sure, it was cruel; sure, it made you cry.
But was there any other ending that could have worked better?
And that truth showed clearly—the rating jumped overnight from 9.4 to 9.6.
Viewers found the ending painful, but no one thought the movie itself was bad.
The problem wasn't the film—
It was the writer.
Akari, Takaki, and Kanae had done nothing wrong.
The one who made this heartbreaking tale exists—
the one who made them cry—
That demon of a writer, Jing Yu, was the true final boss.
By the very next day, this idea had spread everywhere—then the media joined in.
['5 Centimeters per Second': A tragic masterpiece that redefines adult love through a new lens.]
[Pure‑love warrior? No—Jing Yu has always been the king of melancholy. '5 Centimeters per Second' brings back the same heartbreak his works once carved into us.]
[The first smash hit of the year: a film that never even reached theaters, yet became the most discussed, most influential release of the year.]
[An ending that shocked everyone—too real to be fiction, and yet that realism pierced straight into viewers' hearts.]
[A fresh approach to romance storytelling—genius screenwriter Jing Yu once again breaks all clichés and formulas.]
['5 Centimeters per Second': the first movie to make me hate trains, a film that made us weep yet adore it enough to call it a god‑tier work.]
The combined push of media coverage and devastated fans—who couldn't stand suffering alone—turned into a storm.
On forums, video sites, and even TV station homepages, everyone was talking about this film.
By the time the summer‑drama season rolled in,
the buzz around '5 Centimeters per Second' hadn't faded at all.
It overshadowed every new‑season series.
Even over Jing Yu's own upcoming releases:
'Kaiji', set to premiere April 5 on Qingyun Video,
and 'Clannad', scheduled for April 6.
Though '5 Centimeters per Second' was a film, Jing Yu's influence lay mostly in the drama industry.
With fans hyping it nonstop, countless longtime followers of his dramas registered on Qingyun Video just to watch the movie.
After the finale, the number of paid viewers spiked again—mysteriously and massively.
Normally, once Part Three ended, you'd expect Part One, 'Cherry Blossom', to creep slowly from nine million toward its plateau, and the full‑series average to settle around 11 million.
But by April 1 …
'Cherry Blossom ' had surpassed 11 million.
'Cosmonaut' hit 10 million.
The full '5 Centimeters per Second' package reached 8 million.
Because it was released in three installments, many people had waited to "binge it fast."
After the final part aired, they all piled in to pay at once.
By April 3, each chapter's paid view count had grown by another two million.
The whole streaming industry was stunned.
Even Qingyun itself had assumed that while '5 Centimeters per Second' might gain rave reviews, its online‑only revenue would be smaller than a theatrical release.
But now?
Every earlier prediction was dead wrong.
"Fourteen million—already!"
In the office, Cheng Lie flipped through the latest reports again and again, eyes wide.
Part One alone had broken 14 million purchases.
At this pace, the other two parts would catch up soon.
With a 70–30 revenue split between Jing Yu and Qingyun,
That meant Jing Yu's cut from online sales would easily exceed two hundred million yuan.
That figure matched their original box‑office projection almost exactly.
Even if the post‑finale surge slowed later, projections showed steady growth—eventually averaging 15 to 16 million paid views.
And while Qingyun's contract guaranteed a compensation top‑up if profits fell short of 200 million,
Both Cheng Lie and Jing Yu preferred success earned on their own terms.
Relying on a hedge clause would feel like failure.
"Alright, I get it—look how happy you are."
Jing Yu gestured for him to sit.
It was late March; the chill of winter had faded, replaced by early‑spring heat. Jing Yu handed Cheng Lie a tissue to wipe his sweat.
"Of course I'm happy! Even on a streaming site, your work hasn't stumbled—it's still both acclaimed and profitable. Now that this precedent's set, our next cooperation with Qingyun will go smoother. And best of all, advertisers lost a bargaining chip—they can't lowball us anymore."
Cheng Lie's tone mixed anger and glee.
"Those ad agencies kept saying '5 Centimeters per Second' was underperforming online, using that to slash rates for 'Kaiji' and 'Clannad'. Yesterday, they called me back, begging me to sign immediately. I told them, sure—but with a price hike. You don't handle that side, so you've no idea how satisfying that was."
"Ad placements absolutely need to go up," Jing Yu replied after a pause, "especially for 'Clannad'.
Best if the current ads only cover the first episode.
For Season Two, split it into the first six and last six episodes—otherwise, we'll get undercut."
"Got it. Judging by your confidence in that show's later story, I can tell it's going to be good." Cheng Lie nodded.
"Anyway, in three days, 'Kaiji' goes live on Qingyun Video, and four days later, 'Clannad' follows. Before that happens, I think the whole company deserves a little celebration, don't you?"