CrimsonQuill

I completely agree with you—I'm watching this solely for LYN too! He's the reason I even started the drama in the first place. I don’t know much about the actor playing CGH, but I’m genuinely glad to hear he’s stepping out of his usual roles and exploring something new. It’s always great when actors challenge themselves and diversify their portfolios.

That said, it’s a real shame the writers dropped the ball when it comes to character development—not just for CGH, but for so many others as well. There’s so much potential in these characters, but it's like the script keeps choosing the most frustrating paths. Still, I'm happy for the actor, and I hope he gets roles in the future that match his range with better writing!

From the very first moment, CGH was waving red flags like he was leading a military parade—more red than a battlefield at sunset. The man practically shows up to every scene with a new trap tucked under his sleeve and a fresh conspiracy ready to go, like it's part of his skincare routine.

And let’s be real: his true face was revealed the moment NH—yes, the so-called dangerous one—offered his own back to take the lashes from the FL’s father. Meanwhile, our "noble" general stood there with all the usefulness of a decorative sword. That scene alone said more than CGH has in 22 full episodes.

And speaking of contribution... if CGH were to dramatically “exit stage left” in tomorrow’s episode, the plot wouldn’t even flinch. In fact, it might pour itself a glass of wine and toast to the peace and quiet.

And just when you think logic couldn’t take another blow, we get an emperor who trusts his ministers and scheming generals over his own son. At this point, reasoning has packed its bags, jumped off the palace balcony, and left us all behind.

How charmingly Freudian. Projection, you say? Quite the diagnosis for a stranger. But if you have nothing further to contribute to the discussion, perhaps it is wiser to remain silent. One might also consider whether such projections reveal more about the speaker than the subject—especially when taken so personally. That said, opinions naturally differ, and I respect that. But please, do continue—though I confess, such rehearsed responses have become rather tiresome.

Yes, that’s what I think too.

I think I might’ve let out a little chuckle while describing it. 😅 In my opinion, it would be a great plot twist if the Emperor isn’t actually as evil as we think — and he's secretly protecting NH so he can ascend as the Crown Prince. And maybe, just maybe, the current Crown Prince is the real villain... but honestly, he’s such a clueless donkey that it’s hard to believe he’s got even one working brain cell. 🤷‍♀️ Still, that would be one epic twist!

Thanks for sharing your thoughts. Honestly, your argument feels a bit like excusing anything just because the male lead has more “advantages” in the story. Saying SYM’s fate as a vegetative person makes her “a vigilant person” doesn’t really make sense — it sounds more like a stretch to justify a sad and unfair ending. I’ve shared my opinion several times, but it seems we’re just going in circles. It’s hard to take that explanation seriously.

Of course, that’s your opinion, and I’ve made my position crystal clear as well — I prefer female protagonists who are portrayed with intelligence and depth. The blame lies not with the actress, who delivers with grace, but with the writers and their choices. There’s no need to take this so personally; opinions naturally differ. What truly matters is that we maintain a respectful dialogue, even if I confess I struggle to fully grasp your point. 😉 Wishing you a good day ahead.

The thing is, that scene really unsettled me. Stabbing someone—even in fiction—takes a lot of cold blood. If you told me it was in self-defense, that you were being attacked and your life was at stake, I’d say: then yes, stab them until it’s necessary. But in this case? Was it really necessary? It felt so unfair and harsh that I lost the warmth I had left for the female lead. I understand many people might want to find a justification for it, but honestly, I just can’t.

I’ve already shared my point of view, and I guess we won’t see eye to eye on this, but I respect your opinion. Personally, the drama has kind of worn me out, but I’m still watching it just for Liu Yu Ning.

I see what you're saying, but I think it's a little more nuanced than that. Yes, at the beginning, NH might have had the intent to kill SYM under the script’s influence—but so did she. Both were reacting to a predetermined narrative. What makes NH stand out is that he consistently breaks from that narrative to protect her, even when it goes against his own safety or mission. SYM, on the other hand, never really pauses to reassess her views—even when the evidence before her keeps changing. So while her initial mistrust is understandable, the continued mistrust, despite everything NH does, feels a bit stubborn and unfair. Anyway, my points are clear — that’s just my personal opinion. And I don’t blame the actress, who has a great presence and voice; I blame the writers for giving her such a dumb role.

That’s a fair point—but I’d argue the nuance is missing.

Yes, the script compels him to save her, but how he does it—and how many times he goes beyond what the script demands—matters. He could’ve just fulfilled the bare minimum, but again and again he protects her with urgency, strategy, and genuine concern. There’s emotional intention behind his actions, not robotic obligation.

And let’s not forget: the FL is also bound by the script. Yet when she believes the Seventh Prince is her enemy, she plans to kill him without hesitation—based solely on future knowledge, without reevaluating based on his present behavior. He is judged entirely on what he might do, not on what he actually does.

So if we apply the same standard, why does she get a pass for following the script blindly while he’s condemned for doing the same—even when he shows clear signs of conflict, compassion, and growth?

In short: “he had no choice” oversimplifies a far more layered dynamic. Because if he truly had no agency, then we wouldn’t see the cracks of humanity in his choices—and we certainly wouldn’t feel the tragedy in watching him be misunderstood again and again.

Side note: Some argue the FL’s actions are justified. But tell me—what reasonable person stabs someone in the arm just to make them release their wrist? Especially someone who’s saved her life multiple times and is clearly too hurt, physically and emotionally, to speak? That isn’t logic—it’s narrative nonsense. I don’t blame the actress. I blame the writing—uninspired, circular, and confusing irrationality for complexity.

Episode 23 should’ve been a turning point—the unmasking of the FL’s beloved should have brought emotional and narrative payoff. Instead, we’re hit with yet another wave of tired misunderstandings. The scene, meant to be charged, is hollow and repetitive.

At this point, I genuinely want the Seventh Prince to ride off into the night with his Nightwalkers and leave this exhausting plot behind. His arc exists only to highlight the FL’s blind stubbornness and baffling ignorance.
Despite supposedly knowing every romantic trope, the FL acts like a textbook TSTL heroine—“Too Stupid To Live.” It’s not the actress’s fault—she’s got presence and power—but the writing undermines her entirely. Mediocrity in the script, not in performance.

Liu Yu Ning carries this show like Atlas. Without him, the whole thing crumbles. We have an emperor so absurdly evil he borders on satire, and the Crown Prince is so spectacularly dim-witted, I half-expect him to sprout donkey ears mid-scene and start braying.

This drama could have joined the legacy of great masked romances—like Christine and Erik, Roxane and Cyrano, Marguerite and the Scarlet Pimpernel, or even Elizabeth Bennet and Mr. Darcy. All heroines with emotional intelligence, complexity, or growth. Our FL? She charges toward bad decisions like it’s a competitive sport.

What could’ve been a blend of romance, intrigue, and psychological depth has become a carousel of recycled conflict. And still, I watch—for Liu Yu Ning alone. He deserves a script that matches his performance.

Let’s just hope that tomorrow, the writers decide to let the plot actually move. Or at the very least, stop punishing us for expecting character development.

With all these misunderstandings, I’ve honestly started wondering myself! At this point, the drama shouldn’t be called A Dream Within a Dream — it should be called A Misunderstanding Within a Misunderstanding! 😂

Possibly—but then again, we also have a general with more red flags than a battlefield. With each passing day, I find myself loathing the character of Chu Gui Hong more and more.

The way things are going, I wouldn’t mind if NY ended up with YT instead. At least she’s consistent and actually listens. I’m just exhausted by the female lead’s tunnel vision and the never-ending misunderstandings. Here’s hoping the plot finally moves forward tomorrow.

The problem is, he is not "her lover". She has tried to kill him no fewer than five hundred times, has never once truly listened to him, and has actively plotted his assassination another five hundred times. I can believe she cares about her sister, but if you see someone you supposedly hate spending time with your beloved sister, the first thought that should come to mind is that he’s not exactly ideal brother-in-law material. And let’s not forget—she has never trusted him. From the very beginning, she’s clung obsessively to her preconceptions about how the story is “meant” to unfold, utterly blind to anything that deviates from her internal script.

Now, more than just unfairly—which it absolutely is, considering she puts blind faith in every character, including a masked man who didn’t even exist in the original manuscript, let’s start there—what truly frustrates me is the writing. As I said in a previous comment, the only thing keeping me tethered to this drama is Liu Yu Ning, who is single-handedly carrying the entire production with his magnetic performance.

The core issue is the female lead. For someone who allegedly knows every plotline, twist, and turn of this world, she acts with maddening foolishness. She doesn't even begin to question that the masked man shares the same voice, height, and bearing as the Seventh Prince. And then there's Chu Gui Hong—supposedly a formidable general—who, when it came time to offer his back to take a punishment for her father, simply didn’t. All of this leaves me emotionally detached from her journey.

At this point, the FL's sister is easily the most intelligent female character in the series, tantrums and immaturity notwithstanding. She even told the protagonist herself: Live, because it doesn’t look like you are. Which says everything.

We’re now 22 episodes in, and the series has been nothing but a repetitive cycle of attempted murder, emasculation, and shady conspiracies between a general with more red flags than a battlefield and a masked bandit with questionable motives. Many of us are thoroughly exhausted with the lack of narrative progression. The status quo is stagnant, and the misunderstandings—so many of them, so forced—are beyond tedious by this point.

As I see it, the fault lies with the writers. They’ve chosen complication over complexity, and in doing so, have sacrificed logic and character development. I’m still here for Liu Yu Ning and because I was initially intrigued, but at this stage, I honestly detest Chu Gui Hong, and the female lead simply doesn’t measure up.

Perhaps it’s that I’m still enchanted by The Prisoner of Beauty, which—though an entirely different genre—surpasses this show in every possible respect. By comparison, this one doesn’t even touch the hem of its garment.

And yet, despite all these issues, I’ll finish the series—if only because Liu Yu Ning has an undeniable aura and a captivating acting style that I truly enjoy. The story, for all its structural flaws, remains fun and imaginative. But the misunderstandings? They’ve long since stopped being tolerable—they’ve tipped straight into the realm of the ridiculous.

The only thing keeping me from fully enjoying this drama is the frustrating naivety of the female lead. For someone supposedly well-versed in romance manuscripts, plotlines, and subplots, the endless misunderstandings are starting to wear thin. Liu Yu Ning's stellar performance and the hope that his true identity will soon be revealed are the only reasons I’m still watching.
I must also add that I absolutely detest the character of Chu Gui Hong.

The first episode was pure chaotic fun and had me grinning the whole time!

A group of users gave low ratings to all the episodes, even up to episode 36. I really don’t understand this kind of behavior — it just comes off as childish. It’s probably someone who’s upset that this drama is being rated higher than the one they’re currently watching. Purely immature behavior, nothing more.
Up to episode 5, the drama is actually very engaging, with solid performances. There’s no over-the-top acting, no forced comedy, and thankfully no exaggeratedly childish female voices either.

So, it seems we’re both here exchanging thoughts—do I need a VIP pass to chime in? I tip my hat to the fervent aficionados whose dedication and time elevate the discourse.