Yellow Raven

That much is certain. In the Joseon era, usurers were foolish, but in a different way—they knew nothing about organ transplants.
And yes, you’re right; large usury gangs make use of legal counsel. They have at least a basic understanding of inheritance laws.
And yes, you’re also right—kidnapping serves as the driving force behind the relationships between the main characters in The Husband and When the Phone Rings.
But for now, this is just a theory based on standard tropes often found in Korean dramas.

A kidnapping would require involving a couple of people and a car.
Then, you’d kidnap an unemployed woman and use her to threaten a man who earns an average salary.
I’m not saying it couldn’t work. Something this absurd could add some dynamic tension to the main couple’s relationship.
But such foolish kidnappers would introduce a comedic element—or, if someone actually gets hurt, it could turn into a thriller.

A friend once told me that every child has moments when they feel insecure or simply bad—for instance, after a fight with their best friend, when they know they were in the wrong.
In such moments, a child looks to their parent for a hug, comfort, and words of reassurance.
If the parent instead adopts the role of a teacher or mentor, or tries to analyze the situation, the child will feel rejected and unloved—because what they came seeking was comfort and affection.

We have four main characters, all of whom are children—children who feel unloved, who don’t know who might offer them a hug or comfort. They form a four-person support group, offering each other advice while simultaneously—with that typical childlike contrariness—spiting one another.
These are children who never truly grew up and never received the comfort that would have given them the strength to admit their mistakes and try to set things right. Now, they are being judged by the standards applied to adults.
Paradoxically, we are entitled to do so, because these four sometimes behave like adults. SML, for example, is a lawyer—he is of the right age and has completed his studies—yet he remains a bad, spoiled child.
That is why he will end up hurting someone else, provided he gets the toy he’s been dreaming of, or receives a cheap compliment from someone he views as a surrogate parent.
He wants to play with another child and be their best friend; but, being bad and selfish, he wishes for that other child to have no other friends at all. (SML, FL)
Another child gets offended and says, "Go to your new friend. I don't care." (ML, FL).
From there, things only get worse, because creativity—and the selfish kind of creativity that often accompanies it—knows no bounds.

Who expects these "adult children" to become actual adults in a week or a month? They bicker like children, then briefly try to stick to their resolutions with the kind of consistency one would expect from an adult—only to end up shouting, like kids do: "Hey, you! I still don't like you!"

Ten minutes later, they suddenly start acting like adults. They give it a try.
Then, they forget about being—or pretending to be—adults and revert to their childish notions: "Tell him he’s stupid and I’m the smart one."

But if things are as I’ve described, then I’m a poor observer.
Nothing has gone wrong in their 10-year relationship. Ever since they met, they’ve maintained the mindset of a young child.

"She’s going to be my wife!" (ML)
"No way! She’s going to sleep in my little bed!" (SML)
"Go find yourself a new friend." (FL)
"I’d love to be your friend!" (SFL)

And then, they’re all playing together in the same playground. Someone’s snatched a bucket from someone else; someone else is about to take a swing with a toy shovel. Another child shouts, "You can’t hit other kids!" Meanwhile, someone else just watches in silence, wondering, "Wait—is that my bucket?" (at restaurant).

In the comments section, there’s always someone telling others to go to therapy.
Sometimes they suggest it for all the characters, other times just for some of them. Those who are a bit more "kind-hearted" might suggest it for both the characters and a few of the commenters.
After reading through the criteria, it turns out I qualify for therapy myself. All it takes is watching the show—or even just commenting on it.
If that’s the case, we’ll all end up on some island together, starring in a production of our own. One thing’s for sure: it definitely won’t be a melodrama.

There are 4 episodes left. The story isn’t linear; the present feels sluggish, while the past is revealed as if someone were feeding a starving person a single grain of rice at a time—you’re technically eating, but you remain just as hungry.
Since I’m more interested in the cause than the effect, I stay perpetually hungry.
But well-behaved children get a bit more to eat, so I manage to snag a few extra grains of rice by listening to the side dialogues.
At this point, I’ll swallow any ending—I’m absolutely starving for one.

> Namgung and Mido still have ten years of history and unresolved emotions between them
> while Taeseung becomes more serious about pursuing Mido

They share a 10-year history as a couple. For some time, they were friends. That is all we know—nothing more.
What if the only problem is that each person gives the other something they didn’t ask for, while failing to provide what the other person truly longs to receive?
In that case, whether it’s one year, five years, or ten, it’s merely a difference in the duration of time they spend trapped in this misconception.
If one of 2ML’s approaches is to do everything the opposite way to Ho, does that mean they are capable of offering more?
Not necessarily—not if the real difference lies in the nuances.

Our Beloved Summer. Kook Yeon Soo wanted to hear "I love you." But even though she grew frustrated at being unable to elicit those words from her partner, she felt that the love was there.
It is a distinction that lies somewhere between a subtle nuance and a significant difference.
The complete opposite would be a new partner who responded to every single question with "I love you."

In my opinion, based on a selective treatment of the narrative.
The comment refers to the first paragraph.

Both yes and no. They have a problem with communication—not just with each other, but also with the people around them. But an even greater issue lies in their ill-considered, sometimes obsessively offered help—coupled with the conviction that they themselves neither want nor need any such help.

> you guys are making the cheating the main problem but don't want to acknowledge or dismiss the root cause which led to cheating

My Love from the Star, kor. 별에서 온 그대.
Do Min-joon (the male lead) says he doesn’t drink—because people who drink end up waking up in other people’s homes. Or something like that.
It’s not just where you wake up, though. You end up doing things you shouldn’t.
The kiss is the result of a pathological way of coping with stress.
It’s also an act of betrayal. And as for the words she mumbled—well, I agree with you; it’s a communication issue.
The idea of ​​"confiding in a complete stranger—someone you don’t know at all and will never see again"—doesn’t really work in this context.
She knows him. He is aware of her life situation and her partner.
She says things to the SML [second male lead] that should have been said to someone else—and only to that person. It culminates in a kiss.
Therefore, reducing this to just the kiss itself and discussing its technical aspects trivializes the event—and diminishes the FL’s culpability.

It’s brilliant in its own way. Almost everyone was expecting something else—momentum, blood, and tears. Well, there are tears, but of a certain kind. There’s supposedly blood, too—but is it just a drop, or an entire puddle?
Instead of betraying one another, the characters keep running into each other. Scenes that were supposed to make you look away from the screen? You find yourself staring in disbelief.
I don’t know if the series will be a commercial success, but it is certainly independent and makes no attempt to appeal to everyone by catering to a hodgepodge of general expectations. The writer tells the story exactly as he envisioned it. The producer took a risk.
And finally, even if this scenario were as bad as you think, why would the next one necessarily be poor as well?

I was expecting a melodrama, but so far, I’m watching a film about tangled lives and relationships. And even though there are things I disagree with, or moments in a scene or a line of dialogue that irritate me, I’d be lying if I said I was watching this because I’m forcing myself to.

A Help Other than Yours.
Tags:How one should not help others. Help that doesn’t help at all. Unwanted help. Helping others against their will. An addiction to providing help to others.

The problem with ML and FL is that they try to help everyone else. They don’t always succeed. And they almost never succeed when they try to help each other. In this case, their interactions with 2ML and 2FL are also harmful. Contrary to what he might mumble, showing interest out of pity will only reinforce 2ML’s sense of his own worthlessness. What good did Su A actually gain from this help?
They are unable to help themselves (both main characters). They meddle in each other’s affairs, even though neither of them wants such interference.
SML wants to fight for something, but he doesn’t know what for or how to go about it. He is ineffective and often pathetic. Ho’s younger brother shows better judgment—even when he’s just stumbling around in the woods at night. As for Su A, she only stands to lose—both now and in the future—should this so-called relationship fail.
That’s how I see these relationships up to the end of episode 10.
Does anyone here actually deserve anyone else?

A Love Other Than Yours.
Original Screenplay: The 2026 South Korean romantic melodrama (starring Seo Kang-joon and Ahn Eun-jin) is an original television series written by rookie screenwriter Yoo Su-ji rather than an adaptation of a webtoon or web novel (Gemini).

Is A Love Other Than Yours an Original Screenplay?
Yes — A Love Other Than Yours (너 말고 다른 연애) is an original teleplay written by Yoo Soo‑ji and is not based on an existing webtoon, novel, or other pre‑existing work (Cortana).


In "A Decade of Us", the main couple—Bo-yeong and Haewon—meet during their university days.
They share a circle of friends. There is just one person who gets in the way.
There is a time jump at the end: 3 years.
Similar? Or not?

I appreciate Seo Kang Jun as an actor. I don’t necessarily see him as a mentor, though. Maybe I’m just not cut out to be a fan—who knows?
If fidelity is a principle, then infidelity is a violation of that principle. No one is obligated to be someone’s partner, someone’s friend, or to adhere to any particular principle.
However, if you choose any of the above, you agree to certain principles. Do not force anyone to do something you yourself would not want to be forced to do. Or, do not treat someone in a way you yourself would not want to be treated.

It’s hard to watch a series about open relationships because you always end up sympathizing with someone. It’s even harder when a series about open relationships is actually about something completely different for the first 10 episodes. So, you find yourself rooting for a character, all the while waiting for something bad to happen.

I disagree.
The second male lead (SML) was supposed to be a devil, a tempter—the driving force behind the events. Instead, he’s begging for secrets and playing the pity card.
Then he has outbursts of rage, picking fights and provoking the male lead —and, indirectly, the female lead as well.
A moment later, he’s crying and apologizing. He was meant to be an evil, "black dragon" figure, sowing discord and chaos. He certainly tries hard to sow that discord and chaos—but with what result?

The ML is more interesting—if only because he gives the impression that he doesn’t even need to sleep or eat to carry out his absurd plan.
He is like a robot whose battery never runs out—at least when it comes to his emotional state and his belief in himself. But, inevitably, the battery must run out. What happens then?

> Each of the 4 leads have had difficult childhoods, experienced traumatic events. Only one of the three, has grown into a less than ideal adult.

It feels like being aggressively nudged to compare the characters—four children, all with difficult childhoods and trauma. It’s like an educational film. Having just one "normal" character among them would completely change the dynamic.

> And, that is why I cannot give the 2ML a pass.

99% of the commentary surrounding the SMLis negative—or outright hateful. I’m setting aside the "oh, how sweet he is" remarks.
What’s the plan for him in this story?
Will he evolve into a better person? That would require pulling the "magic 10-year time skip" card again. Could he end up as the female lead’s partner? That would be a punishment for FL worse than any other.
And yet, something has to be done with him; he is one of the main characters, after all. It’s quite intriguing—you’ve steered the SML to a point where he’s practically useless. Will he simply exit the story, or is he going to do something even worse—something unforgivable—that ultimately leads to his removal from the narrative anyway?

I hold a different view. SML cannot humiliate Ho, because he has no advantage over him whatsoever. He might try to get under his skin, but he doesn’t really have the means to do so. Is he going to bring up the FL’s father, visit her family to reveal their relationship, or perhaps stir up trouble regarding the potato scandal?
Each of these things makes him weaker. As of the airing of episode 10, it is the least significant factor contributing to the breakdown of the main characters' relationship.
The ML and FL don’t need anyone’s help to tear each other to shreds. They constantly try to outdo one another with foolish ideas. They act like enemies, then like acquaintances, briefly like a family—only to go right back to tearing each other apart.
She doesn’t speak up when she should. She talks when she ought to remain silent. He speaks when he should, but he just doesn’t say what he ought to be saying.
If their relationships with SML and SMF are leading nowhere (at the moment), then they are simply being used for their own ends in an unending war—a war that certainly isn't defined by cleverness or courage. It is a conflict riddled with unspoken implications, evasions, and sheer stupidity.

I’d be happy to share it.

At some point in our lives, each of us will encounter a lawyer and a doctor, seeking their help and advice. We also tend to believe in judicial justice and in the idea that, for the most part, people are well-intentioned.
It’s hard to imagine visiting a dentist who, after asking you to open your mouth wide, simply tosses a candy wrapper inside.

Professionally, SML is bankrupt. This is unlike interpersonal relationships, where one person offers an apology and the other accepts it. As a lawyer, he is finished.

Yet, when you visit a doctor or a lawyer, you don’t stop to wonder what kind of person they are in their private life—whether they’re a good father, a gambler, a cheerful neighbor, or an anonymous online troll.

Here is why your simple question is, in fact, a difficult one.
You are asking about the state of mind of a person who has caused a great deal of harm and says, "I lost the lawsuit—so what?" He lacks the capacity for reflection and refuses to subject himself to self-assessment. He avoids it, for such an assessment would surely collapse—leaving him to see himself at rock bottom.
Bad habits are easier to pick up than good ones; taking shortcuts is simpler. So, to answer your first question: he applies the same approach in his private life. He’ll sling mud at someone, then just say, "I was wrong—so what?"
"The path over the goal, or the goal over the path?" For him, the goal comes first. If he were to change, he would have to live and compete honestly.

Second question—childhood. I have a feeling we’ll learn more about this. For now—and I’m curious if you’d agree—I’d use the word "training" rather than "lack of care."
A child is susceptible to manipulation and some kind of indoctrination. Perhaps they are not to blame for the person they have become; however, as an adult, they are certainly responsible for the person they are. The fact that someone denies their own wrongdoing does not mean that someone else committed those acts.
A bad childhood is no excuse for him.

I once heard that you shouldn’t fear people who were bad and hurt others in their youth. Instead, you should fear those who were oppressed and mistreated, and who later gained power over others. If they have not freed themselves from feelings of being wronged and humiliated, they will destroy everything around them. Fury, anger—everyone else is to blame and is evil.

But SML doesn’t fit in here. His power is illusory. That’s why, when he’s content, he behaves in a more or less controlled manner. But when he feels undervalued—inferior to others—he lashes out, biting, threatening, and insulting everyone around him.

For an abandoned child, this is more than what it desires.

It was an immediate, automatic reaction. She didn’t have to think it through; she reacted subconsciously. Besides, she is so self-contradictory in everything she does that it’s hard to imagine she could have analyzed—in a split second—the moral, legal, and economic damage caused by 2ML.

In short:
The female lead (FL) shows him pity—or, in a sense, extends a helping hand to someone who is down. As the male lead (ML) points out, pity can easily be mistaken for love. Or perhaps it is a form of love.
The other lawyer, out of a sense of integrity, ought to report the actions of the secondary male lead (SML)—perhaps to investigators at a police station—in order to protect potential future victims.

2ML is not a likeable person. Furthermore, his conduct as a lawyer is unethical. As a consequence of his actions, the party he represented in court was deprived of the right to a defense.
The mildest penalty is the revocation of one’s right to practice as a lawyer. This is followed by the requirement to provide compensation to the aggrieved party. If the entity being represented has incurred financial losses, reduced its workforce, or declared bankruptcy, this should entail criminal liability. In the same court. The victim is represented by a prosecutor or a lawyer.

And here you have a public judgment—voicing an opinion in the presence of others, without any supporting evidence.
Because you dislike SML, you simply assume that his lawyer colleague is ethical and beyond reproach—in his personal life, too.

Since this series is so twisted, it might turn out that both of them were taking part in a rigged process. Their roles were written by someone behind the scenes. But the other guy is no pushover—he has a sense of self-preservation. He chooses the role of the winner.
Since this series is so twisted, if the aggrieved party loses the court case, then both lawyers are at fault. Only the one who won will avoid being charged.
In this regard, SML is a very bad person who causes harm to others. Nothing can justify his actions—especially since a defender is someone who is trusted and perceived as a person who provides help.

Yet in this scene, he is pathetic, small, and alone. He may lash out in anger, but he is ashamed of what he hears, having no defense to offer—and all this in the presence of the female lead, before whom he pretends to have something of value to bring to the table.

"Double standard" is just a catchphrase—a single label for everything you happen to dislike or refuse to tolerate.
If someone close to you performs a good deed, it’s seen as something wonderful. If that same deed is performed by someone you don’t like, you might remark, "Well, even HE can manage to do something not entirely bad."
The way it works here is that everyone has a right to their own opinion, but yours is… (creativity in insulting others makes up a large portion of the comments).

> Ho doesn't have any friends (…)

Why? Even the person most devoted to others should, for their own well-being, have some interests, friends, and time for themselves.

> Ho's parents didn't love him (...)

That, as it happens, is no one's fault.

> Ho was constantly berated by Mido's mother for an unknown amount of time over her husband's death (...)

Perhaps once. And then, repeatedly apologized to and comforted? For an indeterminate amount of time.

> (...) provided her with emotional support (Ho -> FL's mother)

At the very least, mutual.

Ho is not 100% perfect. Nor is Mi Do the embodiment of pure evil. Up to episode 10, the male lead is portrayed as a better person than the female lead.
He tends to think things over before taking action. But this creates an impression of uncertainty and of weighing up the potential gains and losses.

One could look at it that way (whether speaking seriously or merely resorting to pure irony). But everything here happens in reverse. Whatever someone decides, they end up doing the exact opposite.

Following this line of reasoning (the post above), the relationship between Mi Do and Ho was forced by ML. The encounter at the bus stop—with a suitcase in hand—presented an ultimatum: either we’re a couple, or I’m leaving.
And, taking liberties with the plot for the sake of my own interpretation—one that is mine alone, and valid only for the duration of this statement—little Ho decided, right there on the beach, to play the victim.
As it turns out, Mi Do’s "great secret" is neither great nor a secret at all. Ho knows everything, but he chose to play the victim—to elicit pity—rather than be a victim who serves as his mother’s unloved tool, enduring beatings and repeated trips to the police station.
If I understood correctly, he lost his guardian at that time (did he drown, run away, or go back to drinking soju)?

But how did this little manipulator foresee that Mi Do’s family would take him in?
What is this adult manipulator’s goal in proposing a one-month trial period?

I remain convinced that the relationship was in crisis long before the current timeline; perhaps the foundations were neither strong nor healthy.
She blamed him for something (unjustly, in her view). He decided that pity was better than nothing.
Hence the story about abandoning elderly parents in the forest: she sheds her guilty conscience, while he gets to keep the pity he so generously receives.


There’s pretty much no chance of that happening. It was supposed to be gritty, messy, and miserable—but instead, it’s turning into a comedy. Ho is giving advice on healthy relationships. Mi Do is spending more time with her family. The male and female leads keep bumping into each other as if by magic. The second male lead turns out to be an old army buddy. And don’t even get me started on the betrayals.

Or perhaps he wasn’t drowning at all. He went into the water up to his neck, but the balloon had already floated away, so he returned to the shore—which is why he’s wet.
So, the father swam out to rescue a child who wasn’t actually drowning?
That’s how it’s written. They sort of show you something, but then it’s your own fault if you misunderstood it.

It’s a recurring motif: a child wants to go to the cinema and pressures their parents into taking them; on the way, the parents die in a car accident. Afterward, the grandmother, uncle, or aunt raising the child tells them every single day, "You have no right to be happy, because you killed your parents."