"'Your Lie in April'—Charge!"
[Only 4.74% viewership, and those 'Summer Splendor' fans are already acting wild? They even said if 'Your Lie in April' overtakes them again, they'll livestream themselves eating. Heh, I've already bookmarked their usernames—can't wait to see if they're real net men or just bluffing keyboard warriors!]
[I'm still not over the trauma from Episode 10 of 'Your Lie in April', but now's not the time to curse Sadist Su. We're not fighting for Su Yan, we're fighting for Kaori Miyazono!]
[I don't care about Su Yan's fight with Sakura TV. Kaori Miyazono must not lose!]
[I never felt much about Shen Liqian before. Two years ago, when she lashed out on live TV against the show's director, producers, and the Sakura TV execs, I thought she was brainless. But now? Kaori Miyazono is that kind of person—she doesn't care about EQ, she speaks her mind, and never lets herself be wronged. I support Kaori Miyazono. And I support Shen Liqian.]
[Let's go! 'Your Lie in April'—you must take the top spot tonight with no suspense!]
[Su Yan's first web drama topped the online market for that season. His second drama ranked third in TV ratings that season. The third drama hit #1. Now this fourth series… if it breaks past 4.74%, is there a shot at the year-end viewership crown?]
[That seems unlikely. If 'Your Lie in April' really wins tonight, the Big Three networks will definitely do whatever it takes in the last quarter to beat that record.]
[In the past, year-end champions needed at least 5% ratings! Why does it feel like ratings for dramas have slumped hard in the past couple of years?]
[Because none of the Big Three have produced S-tier dramas lately. Those require an investment of $ 60–70 million. Sure, the data looks great when they air, but the ROI often isn't as high as A-tier dramas.]
[Exactly! Like this quarter, Zhongxia TV's two A-tier shows combined could've funded an S-tier one. But S-tier shows carry massive risk. If they flop, it's a bloodbath. If the production department doesn't have to make one, they'd rather not.]
[If I were one of the Big Three, I'd do the same. These three top-tier networks don't care who takes the season crown. Everyone sticks to low-risk A-tier dramas, tricks advertisers into paying big ad money, and then leaves the rest to luck. As long as no one breaks the mold with an S-tier show, there's no performance risk. It's peace for all. But the moment one network rolls out an S-tier, the arms race begins—and with only one winner and two losers, is it worth it?]
[So what if 'Your Lie in April' wins the season crown? Can the Big Three still keep pretending nothing happened?]
[Heh… if that happens, either the Big Three team up to target Old Thief Su, or Su Yan teams up with Zhongxia TV or Hudu TV, and the remaining two collab to suppress him.]
[I miss how things were three years ago—Sakura TV would drop an S-tier in spring, Zhongxia in summer, Hudu in fall, and in winter they all collectively went AFK. It was unspoken coordination. But then they realized that even without S-tier shows, no one else could pose a threat to them. Ad revenue stayed the same, so they just kept coasting.]
[But it's not that simple anymore. If 'Your Lie in April' wins this season on Aozora TV, the shareholders of the Big Three won't take it sitting down. The production departments are gonna feel the pressure.]
Audiences in the Xia Nation had long grown resentful of the state of the TV drama industry.
The Big Three, resting on their laurels, kept pushing out lazy, uninspired series—viewers were sick of it.
Now, seeing 'Your Lie in April' climb to the top, most casual audiences were cheering it on.
Did they really think they could keep fooling sponsors and viewers without consequences?
This industry would be shaken up by someone bold enough to innovate.
If 'Your Lie in April' wins the season crown on Aozora TV, let's see if the Big Three still dare to keep pushing these formulaic cash-grabs.
As legions of 'Your Lie in April' fans passionately discussed this online, 9 PM arrived.
'Your Lie in April' aired its final episode—Episode 11.
Gong Yan closed the forum tab on his phone and looked toward the TV.
The final episode of 'Your Lie in April' featured a new ending theme—more sorrowful than before.
Remembering last week's events in the show, Gong Yan felt a chill in his chest.
His excitement from venting about the Big Three faded. Instead, memories of the story came rushing back.
The final cliffhanger of 'Your Lie in April' wasn't just about whether its ratings could beat 'Summer Splendor'.
It was about Kaori Miyazono's fate.
Would her surgery succeed?
The episode opened with the male lead, Kousei Arima, shutting himself in his room.
Three years ago, his mother's death had left him traumatized and unable to play piano.
Now, just as Kaori Miyazono helped him find light again, he learned her illness could be fatal.
Her surgery was imminent. If it succeeded, she'd live. If not, she'd die.
Kousei was lost. The person who helped him carry on might disappear.
In the original, Kousei's breakdown at this point was intense—he even sobbed in front of his mother's friend.
But Su Yan toned it down in the Xia Nation adaptation.
While he stayed close to the core plot, Su Yan wouldn't replicate the original's tendency for characters to fall into inexplicable despair at the slightest thing.
Kaori was facing her surgery with courage—shouldn't the male lead at least try to stay strong?
Even if he had to fake it, he should show up with a brave face to support her.
So Gong Yan found this scene acceptable.
Though Kousei was still gloomy, he was no longer the boy who'd crumbled when his mother died.
At the hospital, Kaori wanted to eat outside. So Kousei carried her smiling form up to the rooftop.
Snowflakes drifted from the sky.
"You still have me, don't you?" Kaori saw through his sadness and smiled to encourage him.
"My surgery is set for February 18. I'm going to fight with everything I have—all the way to the end!"
"It's your fault." Kaori pointed at Kousei.
"The reason I'm struggling to survive like this, trying so hard—it's all your fault!"
Gong Yan's nose tingled.
Was this… a confession?
Kaori scooped up a handful of snow, then held it out in the air.
It looked like she was holding a violin, playing it before Kousei.
With their shared musical understanding, just that gesture was enough to make the sound of a violin echo in their minds.
Kaori opened her eyes, stopped the motion, and looked at him.
"Miracles… they'll happen soon!"
"Because in my heart… you're there, Kousei Arima."
Gong Yan stared blankly at the cheerful girl on screen.
Something stirred deep in his chest.
A miracle…
Su Yan, you bastard. The miracle is in your hands. If you don't grant it to Kaori, just wait and see!
Atop the snowy rooftop, Kaori stumbled, falling into Kousei's arms.
In that embrace, her usually optimistic gaze trembled.
No matter how strong she was, she was still just a middle school girl.
"I'm so jealous of Tsubaki, who knows everything about you. I want to know more about you, too."
Then came the teaser from Episode 10.
"I'm scared..." Kaori whispered, crying into his chest.
"I'm really scared. Don't leave me alone."
At that moment, Gong Yan's emotional defenses crumbled completely—tears slipped down his cheeks.
This was the first time Kaori revealed her vulnerability and fears.
She showed them to the person she loved the most.
"So tell me—how the heck does she like Ryota Watari? She's always loved Kousei Arima! Su Yan, why didn't you write it this way sooner?"
After that rooftop scene, Su Yan added a small original plot.
The surgery date remained, but Kaori and her family were faced with a decision.
They could stay with their current medical team, who'd treated Kaori for years and knew her condition well.
Or they could transfer to a different hospital with a new team offering a novel, high-risk treatment plan—one with dramatically polarized results.
In both fiction and reality, different hospitals and doctors can yield wildly different outcomes for the same illness.
What's a terminal diagnosis in a small town might be curable at a major metropolitan hospital—if you can afford it.
But in the drama, Kaori's family followed the original and chose to stick with the familiar hospital team.
A conservative choice.
Watching this, Gong Yan felt a vague unease.
Why was Su Yan adding this choice in the final episode?
No matter which option they picked, the result would never prove the other was better or worse.
So why dedicate precious runtime to it?
But the plot moved on, giving him no time to dwell on it.
February 18 arrived.
It was both the day of Kousei Arima's music competition and Kaori Miyazono's surgery.
As she was wheeled into the operating room, tubes and all, Kousei's competitors—Emi Igawa and Takeshi Aiza—performed on stage.
The five-minute music sequence gradually calmed Gong Yan's emotions.
Then, it was Kousei's turn.
Before stepping on stage, he was still tortured by thoughts of Kaori's fate.
But performing was Kaori's wish.
"I have to play!"
Kousei walked on stage.
Thinking of the girl he loved, her life hanging in the balance, his heart grew heavy.
He lowered his head, avoiding the piano keys.
But Kaori's words echoed in his mind.
"There you go, lowering your head again!"
He looked up—his friends were all watching from the audience.
In that moment, his fear vanished, replaced by Kaori's smiling face in his mind.
His fingers moved.
The piano began to play.
Gong Yan exhaled in relief—thank goodness he didn't relapse into that old issue of "not hearing the piano."
If, after all these episodes, the male lead hadn't grown, Gong Yan would've gone off on Su Yan.
What followed was a performance that deeply moved Gong Yan—and all 'Your Lie in April' fans across Xia Nation.
As the piano melody played…
The scene onstage merged with the imagery in Kousei's mind—imagery shared by viewers at home.
He forgot the contest, forgot the audience.
It was like he was standing on a mirrored lake.
Beside him, Kaori appeared, holding her violin, smiling gently.
Gong Yan's heart sank.
This symbolism was too clear.
Their shared wish—to perform together once more.
In that imagined mirror lake, Kousei and Kaori played together.
Multicolored snow fell from the sky. Only the two of them stood on the endless reflective lake.
Only their music filled the vast sky.
Gong Yan sat frozen, tears flowing unconsciously.
As the performance continued, Kaori lowered her violin and looked at Kousei with deep longing.
She didn't say a word—but her eyes said everything.
"Wait—don't go!"
Kousei's voice trembled.
Gong Yan's lips quivered.
He understood.
The piano sped up; Kaori's figure grew translucent.
'Your Lie in April' burned a good chunk of its top-tier budget on this dreamlike visual sequence.
The background faded back into the concert hall.
Kousei sobbed as he finished the last note.
He looked up.
In his mind—in his spiritual world—the girl who once performed beside him… was gone.
"Farewell." Kousei choked.
Gong Yan… and every 'Your Lie in April' fan before their screens…
Even the casual viewers who'd stumbled onto the channel mid-episode, drawn in by the performance…
All of them felt a wave of sorrow rise from within.
They were broken.
Was this…
Is Kaori Miyazono's fate being sealed?
Gong Yan couldn't hold it in—he broke down crying.
"What… what is this?"
Kaori Miyazono was dead.
That last performance…
Was it her spirit—her will—returning one last time to fulfill her wish of playing alongside Kousei?
Su Yan, you damn thief. I trusted you!
Another tragedy?
And again, it's the female lead?
Could you please have a shred of mercy in that brain of yours?
But Gong Yan never imagined…
This still wasn't the saddest part of the episode.
After the performance, Kousei was handed a letter from Kaori's parents.
And in that letter lay the true meaning behind the word "Lie" in 'Your Lie in April'.