Why Some Defend Him and Others Fear Him — The Nan Heng Debate Unpacked

A debate is going on in the comment section.

Some people are defending Nan Heng like he’s a wounded prince who just needs love.
Others are standing by Song Yimeng like she’s the only one in this show who hasn’t lost her mind.
One side says she’s biased. The other side says she’s not biased enough.

And somewhere in the chaos, the question hits hard:

Why are we watching the same scenes and seeing completely different realities?

Spoiler: it's not just about character logic. It’s about psychology, lived experience, media conditioning — and how much fiction messes with our understanding of love, danger, and redemption.

Let’s talk about it.

Team Nan Heng vs. Team Song Yimeng — What’s the Debate, Really?

As the drama unfolds, viewers seem to split into two camps — each convinced they’re seeing the story clearly, but arriving at completely different conclusions.

Team 1: Nan Heng Sympathizers

These viewers see:

• Nan Heng is deeply misunderstood
• A man shaped by a tragic backstory and betrayal, not acting out of evil
• A victim of the original “script” who deserves compassion

They believe Song Yimeng is unfair. That she’s projecting the old “script” onto a man who’s trying — maybe struggling — to be someone else.

Team 2: Song Yimeng Defenders

This group says:

• Nan Heng has tried to kill her — repeatedly
• Song Yimeng is reacting to real danger, not just to misunderstandings
• Her instincts to protect herself are completely rational

They see Yimeng as one of the rare FLs who doesn’t fall for emotional manipulation. She's not naive. She's not irrational. She’s paying attention. And frankly? The bar is low. She just wants to not die.

Why We’re All Seeing Different Stories

Here’s the thing: this isn’t just a matter of taste. It’s how our minds — and our experiences — shape our reactions.

1. We project our own pasts

Whether we realize it or not, we don’t watch stories in a vacuum — we bring ourselves into them.

For some viewers, Nan Heng isn’t just a fictional male lead. He might remind them of someone they know: a father who was emotionally distant, a partner who was guarded but wounded, someone they loved who was hard to understand. So they watch him not just with their eyes, but with their hope — the hope that this time, someone like that might be saved. That he might become soft, real, reachable.

Others see Song Yimeng and instantly feel aligned. She’s cautious. She doesn’t automatically trust charm or a tragic backstory. She’s not unkind — but she’s alert. For people who’ve had to keep themselves safe, especially around people others excused or romanticized, she makes perfect sense. Her mistrust isn’t cold — it’s earned.

In both cases, viewers aren’t just interpreting character actions. They’re reacting with their own emotional histories. What looks “reasonable” or “over the top” in a character is often deeply tied to what we’ve had to tolerate — or survive — in real life.

2. We bend the story to make it make sense — to us

Here’s where something called cognitive dissonance kicks in. It’s that uncomfortable mental tension we feel when something we believe doesn’t match what we’re seeing.

Let’s say you really like Nan Heng. You find him compelling — tragic, intense, beautifully acted. You want to root for him. But then the show reminds you: oh yeah, he’s tried to kill Song Yimeng. Multiple times. That’s a problem. Your brain doesn’t like that contradiction.

So what do you do? You adjust the story in your head to protect the emotional connection.
Maybe you think, Well, he didn’t really want to hurt her.
Or, He’s only like this because of what he’s been through.
Or, Deep down, he’s already changing — she just doesn’t see it yet.

It’s not about being dishonest — it’s a very human reflex to make the story fit your emotional investment. And it happens just as easily on the other side.

If you’re fully aligned with Song Yimeng, you might interpret every small act of kindness from Nan Heng as a trap. You might downplay signs of change, because trusting him — even in fiction — feels like letting your guard down.

Either way, our brains are working overtime to protect our emotional position.
Not because we’re irrational — but because we’re deeply invested.

3. We have different moral maps

Each side applies a different standard of moral interpretation.

• Some people see things in rules: he tried to kill her → he’s bad

• Others look at the reasons: he was betrayed, cornered, raised in hell → he’s complex

Both are valid — but we won’t agree if we don’t even share the same compass.

4. Different Emotional Worlds

Some viewers are used to unpredictability — people who lash out, then pull back. For them, Nan Heng doesn’t feel shocking. He feels familiar. They might not see him as safe, but they recognize the kind of pain he carries and how it shows up. To them, Song Yimeng’s reactions may seem exaggerated, even unfair.

Others grew up in more stable emotional environments, where intense anger or manipulation was rare — and dangerous behavior wasn’t romanticized. So when Nan Heng tries to hurt Yimeng, even if he later stops, it crosses a line they can’t unsee. They want her to run, not rationalize.

These two ways of seeing the world — normalizing volatility versus expecting stability — lead people to completely opposite interpretations of the same scenes. One sees tension and complexity. The other sees warning signs.

Neither is wrong. But if we don’t realize we’re reacting from different emotional starting points, we’ll keep talking past each other.

The Media Didn’t Teach Us to Love Song Yimeng

This conversation isn’t happening in a vacuum. For decades, we’ve been fed stories where:

• Brooding men with violent streaks are sexy, deep, and tragic

• Women who cry, scream, run, or mistrust men are “too much”

So of course some people think Song Yimeng is overreacting. The media taught us to expect her to save him — not survive him. And of course Nan Heng gets sympathy. He’s tall, tortured, and aesthetically sad. We’ve been trained to excuse it. But let’s not pretend that’s neutral. That’s conditioning.

This Isn’t Just About Characters

It’s about what we’ve learned to accept.
It’s about who we think deserves empathy — and who gets blamed for protecting themselves.
It’s about how many times we’ve been told to forgive instead of leave.

And those patterns show up in our debates.

So What Are We Actually Fighting About?

A lot of the arguments seem surface-level — but beneath them are deeper emotional and cultural beliefs we don’t always name. It’s not just “she’s annoying” or “he’s tragic.” What we’re actually fighting about looks more like this:

✨ Final Thought

Nan Heng isn’t perfect. He’s complicated, troubled, and at times really dangerous.
Song Yimeng isn’t perfect. She’s reactive. She’s scared. But she’s surviving — and that matters.

The debate isn’t useless. But if we don’t take a breath and look deeper — at the gendered dynamics, the emotional filters, the pain we bring to fiction — we’ll keep fighting in circles.

Because it’s not just about the characters.
It’s about the lives we’ve lived.
And the stories we’ve been told to believe.

I’d love to know your take: how do you see Nan Heng and Song Yimeng?

Share your perspective below! 😄

 Bekbek23:

I do want to say that I love both Nan Heng and Song Yimeng and can't wait to see where this goes. It isn't an either or for me. 

It really means a lot that you took the time to share your perspective.
I hadn’t realized how strong this “morality lens” has become in drama discourse lately — that part honestly made me think. Personally, I don’t mind when people call a character toxic early on — I see it more as reacting to what’s on screen in that moment, and those reactions can totally evolve with the story.
That said, I get how it can feel limiting if people don’t leave space for growth.
I’m also really curious to see how the dynamic between Song Yimeng and Nan Heng unfolds — definitely not an easy one to pin down. As you said: let the story cook! 😊

Here I am thinking, "Someone is overthinking.  Just sit back and enjoy the absurdity of the situation these two characters are in.  We don't really know if Nan Heng is a red flag or a green flag because the scriptwriter keeps changing him. And she is totally confused because he is sending mixed signals.  She just knows she wants to stay alive.  She does not yet realize that the scriptwriter is controlling him as well.  (I should point out that I am currently in the middle of episode 4.  I suspect that actor Nan Feng has also been pulled into the script and he is confused as well.  But, I could be wrong.  :) )

👏👏👏👏 As I said, you make very interesting psychological analyses. You externalized everything I think about the debates regarding this 😆

 Wal:

👏👏👏👏 As I said, you make very interesting psychological analyses. You externalized everything I think about the debates regarding this 😆

Thank you so much 😊

 Diana Yumi:

Now, this thing about a male lead addicted to killing her sometimes annoys me since I want to see the second male lead with Song Yimeng together

Honestly, I’d love to see that ending too — Song Yimeng ending up with the second male lead would be such a twist. But has that ever actually happened in a C-drama? 😂 Second MLs get so much emotional depth and longing... only to lose every time.

Since you’re rooting for General Chu, there’s a interesting and fun discussion thread for fellow fans:
👉 Club for Girls (or Boys) Who Like General Chu

 Kasia Krakowianka:

I appreciate the post and such in-depth explanation. Very valid and very interesting. I am enjoying this series immensely! As this is comedy I love how it is framed and really do not judge, rather sit back and wait for what will happen next while I bite my nails. The script is smart even with unbelievable story/impossible concept so I do not analyze the characters but pause a lot and read comments to see what other POV is there that I am not seeing...

Thank you so much — I really appreciate your comment! I love the way you approach watching dramas: staying open, savoring the comedy, and using comments as a space to discover different perspectives. That’s actually how I stumbled into the fierce debates that inspired this article — I wasn’t planning to write it at all until I saw the emotional divide in the reactions.

 Playset9656:

Your point about interactive AI dramas reminded me of those telenovelas where the audience could vote on how the story would continue (via very expensive phone calls 😅). Part of me thinks AI might someday be able to guess what we want, even without us voting…

and that future is not something I am looking forward to as life will become boring and predictable where no thinking is needed. But hey we all have our guilty pleasures (ie watching Dai Gao Zheng's bare torso in all dramas, be it corporate button up scenario ha ha ha or during monsoon in the jungle or welding his boat or as a sick sect master-it is amazing how the script can make him undress in ANY situation) so I think some people will just enjoy bashing anything they don't like.  We all know that digging one's heels leads to more idiotic decisions and crashes (second term of Trump included) so practicing staying cool is important.