After Episode 7 of 'An Ancient Love Song' aired, it triggered the biggest wave of fan discussion since the show's premiere.
At one in the morning, 'An Ancient Love Song' had three topics break into the Top 10 trending list on SakuraNet.
The paid view count for Episode 1 was skyrocketing at a visibly insane rate.
At this point, viewers on Sakura TV finally realized something—
This drama had to be rewatched.
The first watch was only the beginning.
All the seemingly confusing scenes in Episode 1 only made sense after watching Episode 7.
Large numbers of viewers clicked back into Episode 1 of 'An Ancient Love Song'.
What greeted them was a tidal wave of barrage comments.
[Can't take it anymore—revisiting Episode 1.]
[Forgive me for laughing at Lu Yuan back then. I seriously didn't understand what she was doing.]
[How does a writer even come up with something like this? What kind of brain circuit is this?]
[Was Episode 1 actually the last time Lu Yuan and Shen Buyan ever met?]
[I refuse to accept this!]
[Wait… does this mean the correct way to watch this drama is completely in reverse? Is that why Episode 1 is titled 'Episode Fourteen: This Is the First Episode!'?]
[Second watch hits completely different.]
When these rewatching viewers reached the scene where Lu Yuan finished her three questions and answers, and Shen Buyan turned back step by step, saying,
"I'm really leaving now. If I go, I won't come back,"
and Lu Yuan choked up, forcing a smile as she replied,
"I know,"
The comments exploded again.
[Lu Yuan must've thought that once he left here, she'd never see him again, right?]
[Of course! This Shen Buyan didn't recognize her—this was their first meeting. Once he left, that was it. Forever.]
[I'm crying alone—no, I refuse. Everyone cries with me.]
[This was their farewell.]
[Lu Yuan waited fifteen whole years from age 21 just for this one hour of the Shangsi night. Just for that moment, the willow branches dipped in dew, to cleanse misfortune for Shen Buyan. Just to wait for him to take the willow branch from her hands—and what she got was:
'This kind of thing means nothing to me.']
[Stop talking. It's late at night, and I can't sleep. The more I read, the worse it hurts.]
[Was the writer abandoned by his white moonlight back in school or something? Why is 'Rurouni Kenshin' tragic, and 'An Ancient Love Song' also tragic? Is this something a normal human can write?]
[Maybe… he isn't normal.]
[He's not even human.]
When the episode reached the scene where the 36-year-old Lu Yuan blocked an arrow for Shen Buyan and collapsed into his arms, smiling weakly as she said,
"Don't be afraid. You'll see me again,"
The barrage of comments nearly drowned the screen.
That night, the fans of 'An Ancient Love Song' completely broke down.
On SakuraNet—and even across the forums of the other three major video platforms—topics about 'An Ancient Love Song' flooded every corner.
By the next morning, any drama fan who used the internet at all would know that Sakura TV's Sunday midnight slot had produced an ultimate "sweet drama" called 'An Ancient Love Song'.
People are naturally curious.
A seasonal top score of 9.3, combined with sky-high praise for the show and equally sky-high hatred toward the writer, pulled in yet another wave of new viewers.
And online buzz inevitably spilled into real life.
Even people who rarely went online started hearing coworkers, classmates, and friends talking about this drama.
At this point, the autumn season had just passed its midpoint.
"2.86%."
Inside the 'An Ancient Love Song' production team, Shinozaki Ikumi and Shi Peihua stared blankly at the number.
They had imagined this outcome before.
But when imagination became reality, it felt unreal—like a dream.
"This… is a midnight-slot drama, right?" Shinozaki Ikumi asked, turning to Su Yan.
"Yes."
"And it's only at Episode 7?" she asked again.
"Yes."
Shinozaki Ikumi fell silent.
Back in January, she had hit rock bottom because of 'Pure Breeze'.
By November, she had reached the peak of her career.
The emotional whiplash was dizzying. Sakura TV was deep water—far deeper than she'd imagined.
She never would've thought that going from rock bottom to the peak only required grabbing a newly regularized young writer from the Screenwriting Department.
She needed time to process that.
"Last week, 'Night Sakura' was still hovering around 3.1%, right?" Shi Peihua said, managing to stay calmer.
"With this growth rate…" Shinozaki Ikumi murmured, dazed, "Two or three more weeks, and we surpass it?"
In the past, when Sakura TV discussed Zhongxia TV and Hudu TV's midnight-slot miracles from last year, everyone had worn expressions of envy and jealousy.
A drama airing in prime time with an average 4% viewership, backed by 40–50 million in investment, hitting 4%—that was expected. Failing to do so would be shameful.
But a C-grade drama with a 10-million budget, airing in a slot averaging 1%, breaking 3%?
That was an achievement.
That was ability.
No one could question it.
Regardless of whether it came from skill or perfect timing, it became a massive credential for producers, writers, and directors alike.
And now, Shinozaki Ikumi could already see the future—
For a long time to come, people in the Xia Nation's television industry would repeatedly bring up 'An Ancient Love Song' and her name.
"Su Yan, Sister Shi," Shinozaki Ikumi said, then remembered Gu Qingyuan was still filming Lu Yuan's scenes on set.
"And Gu Qingyuan too… the four of us—feel like we're about to become famous in this industry."
"The season isn't over yet," Su Yan said with a smile.
"Don't conclude too early. The final result might exceed even these expectations."
If Xia Nation audiences hadn't rejected the story up to this point, then the ending probably wouldn't cause a meltdown either.
Maybe… they could even squeeze a few more spots upward within the Top 10.
Even Su Yan himself had felt uncertain at first.
He knew 'An Ancient Love Song' had a market in his past life—but how it would perform when transplanted onto Xia Nation television had been a complete unknown.
Now, though?
Both reputation and results had surpassed his expectations.
"I agree," Shinozaki Ikumi nodded.
"There are plenty of shows that get cocky in the middle and then collapse because of sloppy details later."
"If 'An Ancient Love Song' really surpasses 'Night Sakura', then we absolutely cannot let it overtake us again in the rankings."
A few days later, the average paid views per episode on SakuraNet reached 5.4 million.
Episode 1 alone surpassed 8 million paid views—and was still climbing.
Anyone with eyes could see it.
Those early paid viewers would inevitably spread to Episodes 2, 3… and the finale.
This drama had natural rewatch appeal. On top of that, countless onlookers—driven half-crazy by the fans' nonstop promotion—jumped in to binge it themselves.
As a result, 'An Ancient Love Song' was outperforming even many A-grade web dramas in the streaming market.
That same day, the Week 7 autumn season ratings were released.
'An Ancient Love Song' ranked 13th with 2.86%.
'Night Sakura' slipped slightly to 3.03%, ranking 11th.
Only now did people in Sakura TV's Production and Screenwriting Departments recall Su Yan's bold declaration before the premiere:
[The goal for 'An Ancient Love Song' this season is Top 10 in ratings!]
It had sounded ridiculous.
And yet… it was starting to look very real.
"Is Su Yan actually going to pull it off?"
"How did he even do this?"
"This kind of person only became regular after a year of internship?"
"Shinozaki Ikumi's luck is insane—she actually picked up a genius like this?"
The Production Department was seething with jealousy.
They were practically cracking under it.
Inside the Deputy Director's office, Akasaka Yoshitoki frowned as he studied the week's ratings report.
The crease between his brows refused to fade.
He had wanted to prop up his nephew, Kiyota Sanji, as a manufactured genius.
Who could've expected he'd run straight into a monster like Su Yan?
Even the Sunday midnight slot had been carved open by him.
In all his years in the industry, this was the first time Akasaka Yoshitoki had encountered someone like this.
But at this point, there was nothing he could do.
He couldn't possibly sabotage 'An Ancient Love Song' now.
The battle between his nephew and Su Yan—
It would have to be decided by the market.
Over the next two days, 'An Ancient Love Song' began appearing in reports from more prominent Xia Nation media outlets.
📰 "Xia Nation's Genius Screenwriter Su Yan Rises: 'An Ancient Love Song' Becomes the Biggest Dark Horse of the Autumn Season."
📰 "Reverse Time, Tragic Romance: 'An Ancient Love Song' Is the Most Creative Script of the Year."
📰 "Explosive Ratings and Even Stronger Paid Views: 'An Ancient Love Song' Tops Seasonal Scores—Su Yan May Win Best New Screenwriter of the Year."
📰 "Mid-Season Is Too Early to Call a 'Genius': Will 'An Ancient Love Song' Collapse Like 'Pure Breeze' in Its Later Episodes?"
📰 "Sakura TV's Two C-Grade Dramas Shine: 'Night Sakura' Ranks 11th, While 'An Ancient Love Song' Poised to Break Into the Top 10."
📰 "The King of Gut-Wrenching Drama: Su Yan's Two Works Turn Emotional Pain into a New Track."
At this point, 'An Ancient Love Song' had become one of the core discussion topics in the Xia Nation drama market.
A massive portion of drama fans now knew of this top-rated dark horse.
In a season filled with mediocre shows, its appeal only grew stronger.
For people suffering from drama drought, the midnight slot was no longer an obstacle.
This world's internet wasn't as developed as Su Yan's past life.
Television dramas were still the primary form of entertainment.
And the Xia Nation had no shortage of people who could stay up late.
The only question was—
Whether it was worth staying up for.
Time once again rolled around to Sunday.
The familiar broadcast of 'Lone Doctor' Episode 7 aired.
But this week, when it ended, a large portion of viewers didn't turn off their TVs.
Instead, they switched channels to Sakura TV—
Waiting.
Staying up late?
No big deal.