The cimatology is beautiful. The acting is beautiful. The chemistry is beautiful.But I think the story lacks enough…
I struggled through this drama. I did find it boring. I'm all for slow burn but this is more like stagnant. I need plot progression and this just feels a lot of meandering to me. I wanted to drop it by episode 2 but the rave reviews and rating convinced me to continue but I seriously couldn't get into it and fell asleep most of the time that I finally threw in the towel. Don't get me wrong I loved Lizzy's other work Litchi Island. But I just have to admit this ain't it for me.
I think thay she qas jealous that her brother had a fiancé before her (cause she is about to divorce anyways).
No, she really is in love with Lu Qing because she also wished they don't have the same mother. And if she was only jealous that her brother had a fiance, she wouldn't be that self-destructive.
They truly are the worst. His mom is the only one with any redeeming quality. After reading the novel, I stand…
Hahaha this made me laugh but I was so mad I almost threw my phone - I read the novel translation on Wattpad. Yes the mother is the only one that has redeeming qualities. She tries her best. The brother is what we call entitled brat, it like he thinks the world owes him something because his family isn't rich. And I like the part where Lu Xin called the family out for being shameless. And she's right they are more shameless than her getting pregnant out of wedlock because at least she knows she is shameless. The family is more shameless because the don't realize when that what they are doing is shameless and insist on being "right".
I have read the novel, and I'm not sure if it's because I've read it that Im not as angry at Xiao Fan's family because I already know what would happen. But my blood certainly boiled when I read the novel for the first time and encountered such leachers. Even Maleficent sounds angelic compared to his family. Or at least she's aware she's evil, not like this family who really thought that they have good intentions. They are seriously getting on my nerves.
This drama isn’t polished, but it’s watchable in that soft, unpretentious way—held together by two actors…
This drama isn’t chaotic so much as it’s quietly inconsistent, the kind of drama where the charm of the leads keeps smoothing over the bumps the production doesn’t bother hiding. The FL calling the ML “old” at thirty is one of those running jokes that shouldn’t work but does—she leans into it with such earnest mischief that you almost forget the age gap is only seven years. Their dynamic has that stupid‑funny energy where both pretend indifference while clearly circling each other, and it’s honestly the strongest part of the whole thing. They sell the arranged‑marriage setup with a sincerity that makes you root for them even when the script drifts into non‑communication territory, a trope that seems to follow this actress around like a shadow.
The production, meanwhile, feels like it’s doing the bare minimum to keep the story moving. The continuity errors aren’t dramatic—they’re just quietly illogical. She texts him, and he appears almost immediately, not in a magical way but in a “we didn’t plan this transition” way. The airport scenes are the clearest example: she runs through the streets to get there, arrives at a terminal that looks suspiciously empty, and the confession unfolds in a bubble where no one exists until the moment the emotional climax ends. Then suddenly people stroll through like someone flipped the “extras on” switch. Even the luggage becomes a strange motif—both leads casually pushing or releasing their rolling bags at random moments, as if the props were optional and the director shrugged.
But the drama never collapses under these quirks because the emotional beats land. The leads commit to every moment, even the ones stitched together loosely, and their chemistry carries scenes that would otherwise feel hollow. The confession, despite the surreal emptiness around them, is sweet and grounded enough to make you forget the odd staging. *Summer Rose* isn’t polished, but it’s watchable in that soft, unpretentious way—held together by two actors who make small missteps feel forgivable and small joys feel earned.
This drama isn’t polished, but it’s watchable in that soft, unpretentious way—held together by two actors who make small missteps feel forgivable and small joys feel earned.
Are people really paying for premium on top of VIP to watch this? I rarely see any other shows with premium content…
i already have existing iqiyi subscription because it is much cheaper than Viki (which i cancelled). i watch about 50 to 100 dramas a year (standard and vertical) and iqiyi has a lot of C-drama shorts that I watch so for me it's worth it. Besides, I always buy around November where they have the 40% discount off premium.
depends. for cdrama watchers, IQIYI is the best subscription wise amongst the others and personally, most of the…
same here, I pay for iqiyi mainly for C-dramas, everything else is bonus. Also I have been watching a lot of C-drama verticals so iqiyi is better than paying extra for other short drama apps. I even cancelled my Viki subscription because it was no longer worth it.
It’s chaotic, it’s messy, it’s unbelievable—but I can’t deny it was entertaining.Full review in the…
I went into this drama mostly out of curiosity, and honestly, by the end I felt like the writer must have been smoking something potent because the plot doesn’t just go off the rails—it launches itself into orbit. The entertainment value is undeniable, but the logic? Absolutely feral. The show asks you to accept that a doctor who has been mentally ill for years can just stroll back into medical practice like it’s a casual hobby, and we’re supposed to trust him with scalpels and human lives. Meanwhile, the four villains commit crimes so outrageous they should require a multi‑episode legal arc, yet the story conveniently sweeps everything under the rug as if accountability is optional in this universe. It’s fiction, sure, but even fiction usually pretends to care about consequences.
And yet, despite all that chaos, I kept watching. Not because it made sense—because I wanted to see how much crazier it could get. There’s a strange charm in witnessing a drama fully surrender to its own absurdity. The pacing lurches, the emotional logic collapses, and the plot twists feel like they were generated by a malfunctioning slot machine, but the sheer audacity of it becomes its own kind of entertainment. I finished it with the same energy you have when you watch a storm from the window: fascinated, confused, mildly concerned, but unable to look away. It’s chaotic, it’s messy, it’s unbelievable—but I can’t deny it was entertaining.
Messy, chaotic, sometimes ridiculous, but entertaining. Good enough that a season two feels not just welcome,…
This is one of those dramas where emotional logic keeps tripping over narrative convenience, but somehow the momentum carries you anyway. Jeong Jian is written like a walking contradiction—terrified kid in one scene, suddenly operating with adult-level tactical clarity in the next. It’s not her acting; it’s the script flipping her intelligence switch whenever the plot needs her to survive. And the whole “everyone wants to kill the clueless niece” setup? That’s where the frustration kicks in. If Jinman truly wanted to protect his family, maybe don’t acknowledge them so openly in a world where anonymity is survival. He practically painted a target on them, and the show knows it because it has him spiraling in guilt after their deaths. Fiction can bend reality, but this one bends it until it squeaks.
The character dynamics don’t help either. Jeongmin sets off alarm bells the moment he appears with his soft smile and suspicious eagerness to help a grieving girl he barely knows. The instant he volunteered to clean the room where her uncle died, the ulterior motive practically announced itself. And then there’s Babylon—the underground mercenary organization contracted for dangerous missions—protecting Bale, a psychopath who kills for sport, while treating Jinman like a liability for having a conscience. It’s maddening, not because it’s unrealistic, but because the show frames it as normal organizational logic.
What is undeniably tight is the production. The cinematography is sharp, the action sequences are clean, and yes, the dead bodies pile up like set decorations, but the visual execution never falters. And Lee Dong Wook’s face card plus his performance do a lot of heavy lifting—he grounds the chaos, gives Jinman emotional weight, and makes the entire premise feel less absurd than it actually is. Even with an untrained girl surviving multiple assassination attempts and logic occasionally stepping out for fresh air, the drama stays entertaining. Messy, chaotic, sometimes ridiculous, but entertaining. Good enough that a season two feels not just welcome, but inevitable.
They rated it a 7. That’s pretty high. I agree though, hilarious review.
ah thanks yeah, years ago, i was rating harshly and I got lambasted for it. I know it shouldn't affect me, but it did. so I reserve those scores (5 and below) for absolute trash now. Even when I don't finish a drama because I didn't like it, I still give a decent score around 7 because I'm afraid of vultures attacking hahaha. Especially if the drama has a big fan base. Or i don't rate at all.
It’s not a perfect drama, but it settles into something easy to watch. A rough start, some light humor, and…
Starting a drama with dubious consent in the first five minutes is still a clunky way to set the tone. It’s not assault, but it’s messy enough that you pause and wonder if the show knows what it’s doing. I’ve read and written dark romance, so I wasn’t shocked—just mildly wary. Luckily, it drops that energy fast. The ML’s assistant/driver ends up being the unexpected comic relief, tossing in comments that keep things from feeling too heavy. And the FL, who initially looks like she’ll be pushed around, quietly proves she’s sharper and more capable than her introduction suggests.
The mutual pining is the real engine here. They circle each other with obvious longing, constantly tripped up by miscommunication and a few people who seem dedicated to keeping them apart. It’s a familiar trope, but it works well enough because their emotional blind spots feel natural, not forced. And once they finally get together, the shift is simple and cute—awkward, soft, and a little clumsy in a way that feels honest rather than overly dramatized.
It’s not a perfect drama, but it settles into something easy to watch. A rough start, some light humor, and a straightforward romance that lands without trying too hard.
"don't worry, I'm the school nurse"
"Don't worry, I know acupuncture"
"Don't worry, I'm a dentist'
What's next?
"don't worry, I'm also a chiropractor."
"Don't worry I'm also a surgeon"
"Don't worry I'm also a massage therapist."
The production, meanwhile, feels like it’s doing the bare minimum to keep the story moving. The continuity errors aren’t dramatic—they’re just quietly illogical. She texts him, and he appears almost immediately, not in a magical way but in a “we didn’t plan this transition” way. The airport scenes are the clearest example: she runs through the streets to get there, arrives at a terminal that looks suspiciously empty, and the confession unfolds in a bubble where no one exists until the moment the emotional climax ends. Then suddenly people stroll through like someone flipped the “extras on” switch. Even the luggage becomes a strange motif—both leads casually pushing or releasing their rolling bags at random moments, as if the props were optional and the director shrugged.
But the drama never collapses under these quirks because the emotional beats land. The leads commit to every moment, even the ones stitched together loosely, and their chemistry carries scenes that would otherwise feel hollow. The confession, despite the surreal emptiness around them, is sweet and grounded enough to make you forget the odd staging. *Summer Rose* isn’t polished, but it’s watchable in that soft, unpretentious way—held together by two actors who make small missteps feel forgivable and small joys feel earned.
Full review in the spoiler below:
And yet, despite all that chaos, I kept watching. Not because it made sense—because I wanted to see how much crazier it could get. There’s a strange charm in witnessing a drama fully surrender to its own absurdity. The pacing lurches, the emotional logic collapses, and the plot twists feel like they were generated by a malfunctioning slot machine, but the sheer audacity of it becomes its own kind of entertainment. I finished it with the same energy you have when you watch a storm from the window: fascinated, confused, mildly concerned, but unable to look away. It’s chaotic, it’s messy, it’s unbelievable—but I can’t deny it was entertaining.
Full review in the spoilers below:
The character dynamics don’t help either. Jeongmin sets off alarm bells the moment he appears with his soft smile and suspicious eagerness to help a grieving girl he barely knows. The instant he volunteered to clean the room where her uncle died, the ulterior motive practically announced itself. And then there’s Babylon—the underground mercenary organization contracted for dangerous missions—protecting Bale, a psychopath who kills for sport, while treating Jinman like a liability for having a conscience. It’s maddening, not because it’s unrealistic, but because the show frames it as normal organizational logic.
What is undeniably tight is the production. The cinematography is sharp, the action sequences are clean, and yes, the dead bodies pile up like set decorations, but the visual execution never falters. And Lee Dong Wook’s face card plus his performance do a lot of heavy lifting—he grounds the chaos, gives Jinman emotional weight, and makes the entire premise feel less absurd than it actually is. Even with an untrained girl surviving multiple assassination attempts and logic occasionally stepping out for fresh air, the drama stays entertaining. Messy, chaotic, sometimes ridiculous, but entertaining. Good enough that a season two feels not just welcome, but inevitable.
Full review in the spoiler below:
The mutual pining is the real engine here. They circle each other with obvious longing, constantly tripped up by miscommunication and a few people who seem dedicated to keeping them apart. It’s a familiar trope, but it works well enough because their emotional blind spots feel natural, not forced. And once they finally get together, the shift is simple and cute—awkward, soft, and a little clumsy in a way that feels honest rather than overly dramatized.
It’s not a perfect drama, but it settles into something easy to watch. A rough start, some light humor, and a straightforward romance that lands without trying too hard.