In the following scenes, Kurumizawa, still reeling from Shouta's actions, stood in place waiting for him to return.
But instead, she ran into their class teacher—the cheeky sensei, who also happened to be Shouta's friend.
Seeing her fidgeting nervously, he took it upon himself to assume she was waiting there specifically to confess her feelings to him.
"Sorry, I'm not into student-teacher romances."
The moment the 20-something chuunibyou teacher opened his mouth, Zhao Shushi's emotional tears from earlier vanished without a trace.
"What the hell is this?!"
"You've waited ten years? I get it. If I were a girl, I'd probably fall for someone as handsome as me. But give it up—you'd be better off settling for some kid your age."
[Why am I getting dumped for no reason?!] Kurumizawa was stunned, frantically raging inside.
Just then, Shouta returned—and saw this moment.
He misunderstood. He thought Kurumizawa had confessed to their teacher and been rejected.
"Don't worry. I won't tell anyone," Shouta said solemnly.
This plot twist…
She failed to frame Sawako, and instead got misunderstood by Shouta as having feelings for their teacher.
"Wahahaha!"
Zhao Shushi was rolling on the couch, pounding the table.
"Why is this so funny?! Jing Yu, I want my tears back—I was just crying from emotion, now I'm crying from laughing!"
It was from this moment that 'Kimi ni Todoke''s ratings surpassed 8%. All over the country, waves of laughter echoed through neighborhoods.
After all, the more people hated Kurumizawa, the more satisfying this scene became.
The story progressed:
Chizuru and Ayane investigated rumors spreading around the school. Eventually, they uncovered the culprit—Kurumizawa.
Her goal had been to isolate Sawako, ensuring no one dared get close to her.
All of this… Sawako now knew.
"You're such an eyesore, Sawako."
The perfect friend image Kurumizawa had maintained collapsed completely. Ayane even said she would tell Shouta the truth.
While the plot was incredibly satisfying and drove the main antagonist into a corner—
"Still… I kind of feel bad for Kurumizawa."
"What's there to feel bad about?"
"People who sympathize with her probably behave like her in relationships."
"But come on. The main couple's love is so pure… that's fiction. In real life, most people act more like Kurumizawa."
"Sure, it's satisfying to see her get what she deserves, but honestly… she's kind of pitiful. Everything she did was to make sure no other girl existed beside Shouta."
"If you think about it… He's the school heartthrob. All the girls like him. But no one loved him as intensely as Kurumizawa did."
"What about Sawako?"
"Sawako doesn't even come close. Kurumizawa schemed—one plan after another—to stay close to Shouta. Sawako? You couldn't get her to hurt anyone, even if it meant being with him."
"Her only mistake… is that she's not the protagonist."
"I feel like Ayane was bluffing about exposing her. As long as Kurumizawa stops, it'll be fine."
Zhao Shushi kept watching.
To Jing Yu, this was actually the most classic part of 'Kimi ni Todoke'.
The mutual confrontation between Sawako and Kurumizawa.
Most shows treat antagonists as stepping stones to be defeated.
But 'Kimi ni Todoke'? It has no true villains.
Even Kurumizawa—her only fault was not being the heroine. That's why Shouta would never love her.
She loved someone who would never return her feelings.
She had known from early on that Shouta didn't like her, but she couldn't accept it.
Too afraid to confess, she kept hoping Shouta would stay single forever. Maybe, just maybe, he'd one day look her way.
So she spread rumors, gathered all the girls in school into a pact where no one could confess to Shouta, using the slogan:
"Shouta belongs to everyone, so no one can have him."
That was Kurumizawa.
This was all brought to light when Sawako approached her for a heart-to-heart.
They talked about Shouta. About what it meant to fall in love with him.
"You feel the same way about Shouta, don't you?"
For the first time, Kurumizawa was seen through. She snapped.
"I love Shouta way more than you ever could—way more!"
When she cried while shouting that line, Zhao Shushi's heart unexpectedly twinged.
"Compared to the Kurumizawa from before… now she actually seems lovable."
---
"What's the point of being cute? If Shouta doesn't love me, it's meaningless!"
"I know Shouta doesn't love me… because I've always watched him. So I know."
The show's supposed "villain" was sobbing on-screen.
The moment she finally admitted the truth, TV viewers across the country fell silent.
Their noses stung.
Even if they thought Kurumizawa deserved it, they couldn't help but feel for her.
Zhao Shushi's eyes turned red.
He was moved by Sawako's kindness—after everything Kurumizawa had done to her, she still treated her gently.
And moved by Kurumizawa—for finally, finally, telling the truth in front of Sawako.
In that moment, maybe they were no longer rivals—just two girls with the same feelings, truly understanding one another.
"Serves her right. Shouta would never fall for someone so dark."
"But Kurumizawa feels more real, more dimensional."
"She should lose, yeah—but still, it's kinda heartbreaking."
"Ugh, I'm tearing up here!"
"Honestly, I think Kurumizawa is brave. She loves fiercely and unapologetically."
"Same. If she were the heroine, I'd root for her."
-----
"Why'd you come talk to me, make me cry like this? I hate you the most!"
Even at the end, Kurumizawa denied her feelings.
Even though it was Sawako's words that touched her heart, even though she cried because of what Sawako said, she still claimed to hate her.
The ending theme played.
Zhao Shushi couldn't recover for a long time.
It was the first time he'd seen a "villain" cry this hard—and felt this torn up about it.
Kurumizawa.
This episode of 'Kimi ni Todoke' hit 8.39% in viewership and unsurprisingly claimed the top spot for the week.
But after the episode aired, something unexpected happened:
Audiences across the Great Zhou started signing up for Qingmao Blog—just to follow the actress Yin Xiao, who played Kurumizawa.
Her followers skyrocketed from 200,000 to 1.1 million in one night.
The comments were full of praise for her acting.
This episode, which spent nearly a month building up Kurumizawa as the "villain," managed to redeem her in a way everyone could accept.
Yin Xiao couldn't sleep all night.
She stared at her account backend, watching the followers climb.
Was this what it meant… to become famous overnight?
She felt overwhelmed with happiness.
Even as a "villain," she was being embraced by audiences mid-series.
The next day, she showed up on set with light dark circles under her eyes—but with more energy than ever.
Unfortunately, her scenes were nearly done—that part made her a little sad.
She brought handmade pastries—taught to her by her mother—and gave them to Jing Yu.
But Jing Yu, as always, was fully focused on work. He didn't even glance at her. She sighed quietly.
Still…
After this episode, the entire entertainment industry in the Great Zhou began to feel something ominous.
Pressure.
A kind of inescapable pressure radiates from Jing Yu's presence.
Nobody expected Jing Yu to always rank #1. Not even Jing Yu himself.
After all, 'Dragon Zakura' had only been the second-highest rated show of the summer season—and it hadn't even been Jing Yu's priority.
But now, the pressure was this:
If Jing Yu was serious, who in the market could beat him?
This wasn't just something TV station folks felt.
Even those outside the industry—like Che Kaijun, son of Qingyun Group's chairman Che Lin—felt it.
Growing up watching his father struggle for dominance against the board, Che Kaijun knew how many opportunities the group had missed.
Despite the assumption that Qingyun Video and Qingmao Blog were owned by the Qingyun Group, the truth was—
He was the sole shareholder.
His father had little interest in video platforms, so the promised reinvestment next year had already been scaled back.
Che Kaijun was frustrated.
This market was booming. Pulling back now would mean losing everything to competitors.
Sacrificing some equity in exchange for a promotion budget was the right move.
But he didn't want big corporations meddling either.
So he was torn—who should he sell equity to?
When he heard that Bluestar Media & Film, Jing Yu's company, wanted to invest—
He was immediately interested.
But not for the money.
At a famous restaurant in the Modo City, Che Kaijun arrived 20 minutes early. Two minutes later, Jing Yu and Cheng Lie arrived as well.
"Hello, Mr. Jing. I'm Che Kaijun."
"Mr. Che, I'm Jing Yu."
"I'm Cheng Lie."
"We're all around the same age—no need for titles. Just call me Kaijun."
After brief introductions, Jing Yu finally took a good look at the man behind Qingyun Video.
Early 30s, around Cheng Lie's age, but more handsome and refined—though still not his equal, of course.
"I heard from Cheng Lie that you're interested in investing in Qingyun Video?" Che Kaijun got straight to the point.
There was no arrogance in his tone. In fact, he seemed to admire Jing Yu.
He knew—if he were in Jing Yu's position, he'd probably still be stuck working at some company.
"Why?" Che Kaijun asked.
"Because I believe streaming platforms are the future of the entertainment industry in the Great Zhou."
Jing Yu laid out his thoughts clearly—no fluff. Just his honest perspective.
Having seen how streaming changed the landscape in his past life, Jing Yu spoke with confidence.
And Che Kaijun found himself nodding along.
His eyes gradually lit up.
"To think... a screenwriter would have better vision than most TV station executives." He sighed.
Che had always believed the TV industry model in the Great Zhou had flaws.
He'd even considered pulling in funding from the Big Six TV stations—hoping they'd lend their influence to promote Qingyun.
Simple logic: if Qingyun wanted to produce hit original content, they'd need top-tier talent.
But after reaching out, all the Big Six were only willing to sell ad slots. Deeper partnerships? They scoffed.
Only after 'Love Letter' and 'Rurouni Kenshin: Trust & Betrayal' proved that streaming platforms could actually make money did investors take Qingyun seriously.
In this, both Qiezi and Jixun owed Jing Yu big time.
Now, after hearing Jing Yu's insights, Che Kaijun felt a deep sense of connection—like they had met too late.
But he kept that to himself, instead putting on a troubled expression.
"Just like you said, after those two movies' success, we've proven we can be profitable. I've had dozens of people approach me about investing. So why should I accept your money?"
"Well then, why ask me to this meeting? Want an autograph?"
Jing Yu's bluntness caught Che Kaijun off guard.
Damn. That was direct.
He had just been setting up the conversation to start negotiating terms—and Jing Yu went straight for the throat.
