Jinx: The Birth 🎴 of A Flower 🌸 (part 1)

Where is a Flower in Episode 88?

Episode 88 of Jinx immediately drew readers’ attention to two moments in particular: the training session between Kim Dan and Joo Jaekyung (chapter 88), and the final panel hinting at an imminent confrontation with Choi Heesung. (chapter 88) Discussions largely revolved around physical proximity, discipline, and anticipation — around bodies in motion and the promise of conflict to come. At first glance, the episode seemed to oscillate between intimacy and tension (chapter 88), between preparation (chapter 88) and interruption (chapter 88).

Only on closer reading does another layer emerge — one that does not oppose these moments, but reframes them. The training session is not merely about discipline or proximity, and the final panel is not only a promise of confrontation. Both scenes (chapter 88) are structured around restraint (chapter 88): what is held back (chapter 88), delayed, or redirected. Words are measured, authority is redistributed, and decisions are deferred (chapter 88) rather than imposed. What initially appears as physical intensity and narrative suspense begins to reveal a deeper reconfiguration of roles, responsibility, and choice.

At first glance, the title may seem paradoxical. The episode takes place a few weeks after October (chapter 70)—most likely in November— in late autumn. (chapter 88) This temporal setting is visually reinforced by the environment itself: in the opening sequence marked “a few weeks later,” the tree is already bare, its leaves gone. Nature offers no spontaneous image of growth or renewal. If a flower were to appear in this chapter, it couldn’t belong to the season. It must be cultivated, protected, and sustained in a green house—something that emerges not from natural abundance, but from deliberate care. So where does this idea of a flower come from?

Closed Circuits and the Logic of the Number Eight

The title emerged from a visual and structural observation. Chapter 88 is built around the number eight: a chapter defined by two closed circuits that finally cross. Remember how I described the relationship of the main couple in the essay : a closed circuit which we could witness once again in the training room: (chapter 88) There are once again sparks between them. The number 8 is not just related to doc Dan [for more read  The Magic Of Numbers ] and his relationship with the athlete, but also to the other couple: Heesung and Yoon-Gu. This means, the latter represent the other closed circuit. Hence the other couple appeared in episode 35 and 58. (chapter 58) Two trajectories —long separated, repeatedly missing one another—intersect at last. When two eights overlap, they form neither a loop nor a knot, but a new shape: a flower-like figure, suggestive of opening rather than closure. This crossing does not resolve everything; instead, it creates the conditions for growth for all the characters. We could say that each closed circuit forms two petals so that their interaction with each other will affect them positively.

Color as Emotional Structure

The flower, however, is not only numerical or temporal. It is also chromatic. A flower is never defined by form alone, but by shading—by gradients, transitions, and the coexistence of multiple tones within a single structure. Thus in French certain flowers serve to define pigments: rose for pink, violet for purple. In this sense, episode 88 does not merely contain colors; it behaves like a flower unfolding through shades. Episode 88 is saturated with color: pink (chapter 88), white (chapter 88) purple (chapter 88), blue, gray, , (chapter 88) red (chapter 88) and black (chapter 88) Pink frames tenderness and mutual awkwardness; purple marks embarrassment and heightened awareness; red signals suppressed anger and looming confrontation; black absorbs fear, silence, and unresolved tension.

White, notably associated with Park Namwook, carries a more ambivalent meaning. (chapter 88) It evokes innocence on the surface, but also ignorance—an unexamined moral comfort that allows him to retreat from responsibility while claiming authority. His lightness contrasts sharply with the weight of the decision he refused to make: visually underlined by the black-lined spiral hovering near his head—an emblem of irritation without accountability.

Blue and gray dominate the scene in which Joo Jaekyung announces his seemingly excessive training demands. (chapter 88) On the surface, the atmosphere feels cold and authoritarian. Yet the exaggeration itself reveals something else: the demand is deliberately absurd, almost teasing. Joo Jaekyung is testing resolve, not imposing punishment. The joke —visible thanks to the chibi and the brief spark within the athlete’s gaze— goes unnoticed. No one laughs. The room’s muted colors reflect this misrecognition—care and fun are present, but not yet legible to those receiving it.

At first glance, the setting itself seems to resist any floral reading. (chapter 88) The scene unfolds not in nature, but in a gym in Seoul—an urban, enclosed space associated with discipline, repetition, and control rather than growth or renewal. This tension may explain the readers’ initial surprise: a flower appears where one would expect only concrete, steel, and hierarchy. Yet in Jinx, the flower does not belong to nature as landscape, but to nature as process—to emergence, care, and relational change.

This process is not introduced through scenery, but through bodies marked by green. And the latter symbolizes nature. In episode 88, two characters (chapter 88) are dressed in green (chapter 88), a choice that appears unobtrusive—almost practical—yet is unmistakable within Mingwa’s chromatic language. Green here does not function as pure nature or renewal, but as transition: a sign of growth that is still constrained, negotiated, and incomplete. It is not a vivid, liberating green, but a muted one—ranging from green sheen to subdued olive—closer to endurance than vitality, to steadiness rather than expansion. Growth is present, but it has not yet broken free; it remains embedded in effort, restraint, and adaptation.

Crucially, this shorts’ shade recalls the photograph of Kim Dan with his grandmother (chapter 19), where green and floral elements once functioned as a silent language of care and containment. The repetition is not accidental. By wearing a similar tone in the present, Kim Dan does not merely revisit the past; he carries it forward. (chapter 88) The color no longer signifies dependency or shelter alone, but continuity of self. It marks a return to an inner disposition that predates trauma—a self capable of care, persistence, and quiet resilience. This means that he is closer to his true self.

Placed within the gym’s dominant blues and grays, this green does not signal leisure or escape. It signals cultivation. Growth here is neither spontaneous nor decorative; it must be trained, maintained, and protected. The flower does not bloom despite the city—it blooms through care, discipline and recognition. What initially appears paradoxical becomes coherent: in Jinx, growth is not opposed to structure. It is shaped by it.

From Flower to Language: Communication Deferred

Crucially, the flower also functions as a metaphor for communication. (chapter 19) Flowers are not passive decorations; they carry meaning, intent, and symbolism. The background is composed of hydrangeas in blue, pink, and pale violet—colors traditionally associated with gratitude, tenderness, apology, and emotional nuance.

Unlike roses (chapter 35), which tend to assert a singular message (love, passion, beauty), hydrangeas communicate multiplicity and emotional ambivalence; they speak in clusters rather than declarations. This visual language mirrors Kim Dan’s inner world at the time (chapter 19): affection entwined with dependency and sorrow, care mixed with silence, love present but unspoken.

This chromatic memory resurfaces later through a different floral gesture: the bouquet Choi Heesung offers Kim Dan —pink roses paired with baby’s breath (chapter 31). Here, the symbolism shifts. Pink roses convey affection and admiration, while baby’s breath suggests innocence and fragility. Yet the arrangement is excessive, overwhelming, and mismatched to its recipient. The bouquet does not listen; it speaks at Kim Dan rather than with him. Significantly, Heesung comes to associate Kim Dan himself with the flower—something delicate, beautiful, and deserving of protection, but also something to be handled, displayed, and possessed.

Episode 88 reframes this logic entirely. The “birth of a flower” no longer refers to being perceived as fragile or decorative, but to a return to growth from within. (chapter 88) Kim Dan’s green training clothes—visually echoing the green shirt he wore in the photograph with his grandmother—signal continuity rather than regression. This is not a retreat into childhood dependency, but the reappearance of an inner child now disentangled from obligation and fear. The flower that reemerges here is not gifted, not arranged, not imposed—it grows. In this sense, episode 88 introduces a missing element in the dynamic between the two protagonists: not desire, not care, but communication. And it is here that Choi Heesung becomes central—not as a rival or antagonist, but as a structural bridge, as in reality he represents the rose, “La vie en rose” . He embodies speech, playfulness, and visibility, yet also reveals their limits when they are severed from responsibility and respect. I will elaborate about this more below.

The illustration accompanying this essay includes a fifth, shadowed petal inspired by the Mugunghwa—the Rose of Sharon, a national symbol of Korea often associated with endurance, justice, and continuity. This fifth petal does not yet fully bloom. It signals something incomplete, something still forming: a question of justice, choice, and mutual recognition that the narrative has only begun to articulate.

Finally, this essay reads episode 88 through the lens of Erich Fromm’s definition of love—care, responsibility, respect, and knowledge. For me, these 4 notions are represented by the 4 petals. In this chapter, Joo Jaekyung visibly embodies care, responsibility, and a growing respect for others’ autonomy. What remains absent is knowledge: a true understanding of Kim Dan’s inner life, just as Kim Dan himself has yet to fully understand Jaekyung beyond his role and past. The flower, then, is not the endpoint. It is the beginning of a process in which these missing elements may finally emerge.

What follows is not an analysis of victory or defeat, but of growth—quiet, fragile, and cultivated under constraint. This is not the celebration of happiness already achieved (chapter 88), but the moment in which the conditions for happiness are finally put into place. And now let me ask you this. What is the symbol of happiness? Smiles and laughs. During the training session, Kim Dan smiles. These moments are brief (chapter 88) and goes unnoticed by him (chapter 88) and his fated partner, yet it directly answers what Joo Jaekyung has repeatedly expressed as his desire: to be the source for Kim Dan’s smile and to smile together. (chapter 83) What is striking is that neither of them recognizes this fulfillment. (chapter 88) Kim Dan does not register his own smile as happiness, and Joo Jaekyung does not realize that he is already producing what he seeks. As elsewhere in Jinx, happiness precedes awareness. It exists before it is acknowledged—by both sides.That’s why I selected the title: the flower embodies happiness, as its life is just as short as happiness. (chapter 31)

A. Joo Jaekyung × Kim Dan: The First two Petals

The training sequence in episode 88 cannot be read as a simple exercise scene, nor as a sudden moment of equality or mutual play. It is, instead, the continuation of a long-standing relational pattern in which care is expressed indirectly (chapter 88), asymmetrically, and through the only language both characters know how to use: work. (chapter 88) What appears at first glance as coercion (chapter 88) or discipline is in fact a negotiation shaped by habit, fear of burdening the other, and an inability—on both sides—to articulate desire outside professional roles.

1. How the training is suggested: care disguised as necessity

Crucially, the idea of training does not emerge in the gym itself. It is first introduced in the car (chapter 88), a space that is never neutral in Jinx. A car has one driver, one direction, one authority. By placing the conversation there, Mingwa signals that the relationship is still structurally asymmetrical at this point: Joo Jaekyung leads, Kim Dan follows.

Joo Jaekyung frames the proposal as a matter of stamina and work. (chapter 88) Training will help him in his career. This framing is not accidental. Joo Jaekyung does not yet know how to say: “I want to spend time with you“, or “I’m afraid you won’t be safe, once you leave my side“. He knows only how to justify closeness through usefulness. Training becomes a rational excuse for proximity, a legitimate reason to demand time without admitting emotional dependence.

At the same time, this proposal is deeply protective. Joo Jaekyung has seen Kim Dan collapse from exhaustion in the past. He knows his physical limits better than Kim Dan himself. (chapter 88) Secondly, such a training suggests that the athlete is gradually remembering this scene of the almost-rape. (chapter 88) In his subconscious, he knows that this was not prostitution. (chapter 17) Therefore it is not surprising that instead of asking permission or explaining concern, he imposes the idea—because that is how he has learned to act as a captain, a fighter, and later a manager. Authority precedes dialogue. (chapter 88)

2. The first refusal: self-neglect disguised as strength

Kim Dan’s first response is immediate: (chapter 88) He refuses. This is not politeness. It is not consideration for Joo Jaekyung’s fatigue. It is a reflex rooted in long-standing self-erasure. Kim Dan genuinely believes he is strong enough. More importantly, he believes that needing care is illegitimate.

This refusal is governed by habit:

  • the habit of minimizing himself,
  • the habit of overestimating endurance,
  • the habit of believing that receiving attention makes him a burden.

At this stage, Kim Dan is not yet protecting Joo Jaekyung; he is protecting the structure that allows him to remain useful and unobtrusive. Accepting training would mean admitting vulnerability—and worse, accepting time, effort, and concern directed at him.

The sportsman ignores this refusal. This moment is important because it reveals both the problem and the intention. Joo Jaekyung acts like a parental figure, not a partner. He overrides consent not out of cruelty, but out of conviction that he knows better. His care still takes the form of command. This explicates why the physical therapist’s agreement is accompanied with a drop of a sweat. “Okay” indicates more discomfort than joy and gratitude. He doesn’t feel indebted toward the athlete, rather embarrassed.

Thus the asymmetry is intact. The training is not born out of his own desire.

3. The pause: time passing, resistance softening

Striking is that this conversation is revealed, after the champion asked doc Dan to get changed. (chapter 88) In other words, the request from Joo Jaekyung appears as a memory from the physical therapist. Why? (chapter 88) Because Mingwa refuses the “clean” sequence in which an order is issued and immediately executed. The narration inserts a gap—an interval of off-panel time that we are forced to reconstruct from Kim Dan’s recall. (chapter 88) The narrative does not jump immediately into physical training, because the temporal gap is supposed to mirror the time jump as well. There were other training sessions. This temporal gap matters. The doctor’s inner thoughts (chapter 88) “I guess we’re doing it today, too…” implies routine without inner desire and daily regularity. This means that the training sessions only took place, when the champion asked doc Dan to change his clothes. Doc Dan was not looking forward for the training sessions or reminded the athlete of his promise or request.

That pause changes the meaning of consent and compliance. If the scene were immediate, Kim Dan’s earlier refusal (“Oh no, thank you, I can manage—”) would read as a clear boundary and Joo Jaekyung’s “Just do as I say” as a straightforward override. (chapter 88) But because the chapter returns to the topic through memory, the refusal is not portrayed as a decisive line—rather, it becomes the first phase of a negotiation Kim Dan does not yet know how to conduct. His resistance softens not because he suddenly “wants” the training, but because habit takes over: he is used to accommodating authority, used to re-framing his own limits as irrelevant, used to translating pressure into “normal.” The break between the command and the actual session is precisely where that old reflex does its quiet work.

By the time they appear in the practice room, Kim Dan is showing no hesitation. He is training eagerly. (chapter 88) Instead Kim Dan no longer insists on his own sufficiency. He no longer says “I can manage., but doc Dan admits not only his own lacking. (chapter 88), but also his own desire. He finally expresses his desire to improve, to learn more.

This admission marks a decisive internal shift. In earlier chapters, “I can manage” functioned as a shield: a way to deny need and avoid dependence. Here, Kim Dan allows himself to recognize that improvement exists precisely because limits existed before. The champion’s explicit comparison with the past (chapter 88) creates a temporal bridge that enables this recognition. Only once change is named from the outside can Kim Dan cautiously acknowledge it from within.

At the same time, this acknowledgment remains fragile. Kim Dan does not fully accept the implications of Joo Jaekyung’s praise. (chapter 88) His response — “I still have a lot to learn” — both accepts growth and reinscribes distance. He recognizes the fighter’s effort and dedication, yet still fears relying on the athlete’s benevolence. (chapter 88) This is why he immediately reframes the future in terms of independence: he will “keep up the training on [his] own.” Gratitude is present, but it remains incomplete, protective rather than connective. He still experiences himself as a potential burden. But why?

It’s because he tried to care for the athlete in his own way by suggesting a rest, but the champion denied it. (chapter 88) The problem is that his form of care was influenced by his own mindset and emotions: his physical limitations.

This attempt at care fails not because it is insincere, but because it is misaligned. Kim Dan does not ask whether Joo Jaekyung wants to rest; he assumes that rest must be what is needed, because that is what he himself would need in the same situation. His concern is genuine, yet it is filtered through his own bodily limits and emotional economy. Fatigue, for him, is something that must be managed cautiously, avoided, negotiated. When he encounters a body that does not obey those rules — a body that still has stamina, that refuses the logic of depletion — his offer of care is quietly rejected.

This rejection is decisive. It reveals a gap Kim Dan cannot yet bridge: the realization that Joo Jaekyung’s needs do not mirror his own. (chapter 88) The athlete does not require rest in the same way, and more importantly, he does not articulate his needs through physical exhaustion at all. What Kim Dan fails to perceive is that the training itself is Joo Jaekyung’s way of staying regulated, present, and emotionally grounded. It is also his source of joy. By denying the necessity of rest, the champion is not dismissing care; he is refusing a form of care that does not correspond to him.

Confronted with this mismatch, Kim Dan retreats. If his attempt to care is ineffective, then the safest response is to minimize his demands. This is where gratitude hardens into distance. He thanks Joo Jaekyung for his help with a smile, acknowledges his progress, and immediately insists on autonomy: he will continue alone. The logic is protective. If he does not rely, he cannot burden. If he does not ask, he cannot be refused again.

What emerges here is not self-confidence, but a familiar defense. Kim Dan is not asserting independence from strength; he is withdrawing from uncertainty. His insistence on training alone does not signal rejection of connection, but fear of asymmetry — fear that he cannot offer something equivalent in return. Because he interprets care primarily through physical effort and endurance, he cannot yet recognize that his presence, attention, and willingness to engage already matter.

In this sense, the moment exposes the limits of projection. Kim Dan’s care is sincere, but it remains anchored in his own survival strategies. Until he can decouple care from exhaustion, and need from weakness, he will continue to misread situations where what is required is not restraint, but accompaniment. The training, then, is not only about building strength. It is the first site where Kim Dan begins to confront the possibility that care does not always flow from managing limits — but sometimes from staying, even when one feels unnecessary.

This is significant. It shows that Kim Dan is beginning to speak, but still cannot speak for himself. His old habit remains: if something feels wrong, it must be because the other person needs rest, not because he is tired, scared, or overwhelmed. In other words, care is emerging—but it is displaced.

This is precisely why the gesture that follows (chapter 88) carries such weight. For the first time in this exchange, care is directed back at Kim Dan without condition. It is not framed as instruction, correction, or evaluation. It is neither command nor test. It is a simple, protective statement that mirrors Kim Dan’s earlier concern — but without projection. Joo Jaekyung does not deny Kim Dan’s limits. He acknowledges them. There is no reproach, only concern. (chapter 88)

Here, the asymmetry softens without disappearing. Joo Jaekyung remains physically dominant, emotionally inarticulate, and structurally in control of the situation. Yet the direction of care shifts. He does not accept Kim Dan’s attempt to exit the dynamic under the guise of independence. Instead, he counters it with responsibility: you matter enough to be protected. The pinky promise that visually accompanies this exchange reinforces the meaning. Promises in Jinx have often functioned as burdens or traps — obligations that freeze people in place. This one is different. It does not demand performance. It does not extract sacrifice. It asks only for self-preservation. (chapter 88)

This is where the flower begins to appear — not as harmony, not as symmetry, but as mutual misrecognition slowly correcting itself. Kim Dan still does not fully grasp that Joo Jaekyung’s desire to train him is also a desire to spend time with him. Joo Jaekyung, in turn, still cannot articulate that desire outside the language of work. (chapter 88) Training becomes the only acceptable medium through which closeness can occur. Pleasure and intimacy surface unintentionally — in teasing, in competition, in shared breath — but remain unnamed.

Crucially, this is not rigidity. It is habit. Both men operate within deeply ingrained routines shaped by survival rather than joy. Rest, breaks, and leisure have only ever been framed in relation to the champion’s career: recovery after injury, distraction after stress, sanctioned release after pressure. They know how to stop working; they do not know how to share fun. There is no vocabulary yet for casual togetherness — no restaurant, no cinema, no idle wandering. Training fills the gap because it is the only space where proximity feels justified.

Thus, the training is neither purely imposed nor fully shared. It begins as Joo Jaekyung’s initiative, shaped by authority and concern, but it gradually becomes a site where Kim Dan starts to renegotiate his self-image. By acknowledging both his limits and his desire to improve, Kim Dan takes a first step away from the logic of endurance alone. He still retreats into self-sufficiency, but the retreat is no longer absolute. He speaks more. He hesitates less. He accepts care, even if he cannot yet rely on it.

The flower here is not bloom, but formation. It is the slow emergence of a relationship that must unlearn the equation between care and burden, strength and isolation, desire and duty. Nothing is resolved. But something has shifted: care is no longer one-directional, even when it remains uneven. And for the first time, both characters participate — imperfectly, awkwardly, but genuinely — in sustaining it.

4. Where pleasure enters—and why it is unspoken

As the training progresses, something shifts subtly. Joo Jaekyung smiles (chapter 88). He teases. (chapter 88) He challenges. He praises: (chapter 88)

These are not neutral compliments. They are moments where discipline slips into enjoyment. Joo Jaekyung is no longer training only to prepare Kim Dan for a future without him; he is enjoying the present interaction. And yet, he cannot name this enjoyment.

Pleasure appears within work, not alongside it. Intimacy emerges through exertion (chapter 88), not rest. Thus the doctor mistakes the embrace for a technique and not the expression of love. (chapter 88) And observe that the athlete still refuses to express the true meaning of his hug. His explanation still remains technical, defensive, and strategically framed: (chapter 88) This sentence is crucial. It reduces contact to function. The closeness of bodies, the pressure of weight, the proximity of breath are translated into instruction. What could be acknowledged as reassurance or care is instead displaced into pedagogy. Joo Jaekyung does not deny intimacy; he relabels it.

What the image reinforces is not distance, but deferral. The focus on bodies — on interlocked legs, grounded feet, balanced weight — emphasizes control and stability rather than vulnerability. Affection is allowed to exist only when it can be defended as functional. The mount is maintained not because Joo Jaekyung wants to keep Kim Dan close, but because losing it would constitute failure.

And yet, the sequence immediately preceding this moment shows both characters acutely aware of their racing hearts,

(chapter 88) of breath held too long, of proximity charged with something unnamed. The technical explanation arrives after that awareness, not before it. This confirms that the instructional language functions as a shield — not against intimacy itself, but against having to speak it.

Yet the narrative immediately undermines this technical framing. (chapter 88) Directly after warning against lowering one’s guard, Joo Jaekyung kisses him.

The kiss is not furtive, accidental, or one-sided. Both characters are fully present. They look at each other. Neither pulls away. The contradiction is deliberate: the body does what the language refuses to acknowledge. Vigilance and intimacy coexist in the same gesture. The warning about control does not prevent closeness; it becomes the pretext through which closeness is allowed.

This is the crucial correction: Joo Jaekyung is not simply disguising intimacy as technique. He is containing it. The kiss does not negate the instructional frame; it slips through it. Pleasure is permitted only insofar as it does not require verbal recognition. Love is enacted, but not named.

For Kim Dan, this ambiguity poses no immediate problem. He has been kissed before. Physical intimacy is not new to him, and he has learned — through prior encounters — not to interrogate its meaning unless forced to do so. He does not question whether the kiss signifies affection, reassurance, desire, or attachment. Instead, he relocates intimacy spatially rather than emotionally. His only objection is not that the kiss happens, but where: (chapter 88) This line is telling. Kim Dan does not resist closeness itself. He resists its placement. Intimacy, in his understanding, belongs elsewhere — to the penthouse, to private space, to moments already coded as sexual or domestic. What unsettles him is not the kiss, but the fact that it occurs inside the domain of work.

In other words, Kim Dan does not yet read intimacy as something that can coexist with discipline. He accepts affection when it appears in designated zones, but not when it disrupts functional categories. The gym is a place of training; therefore, what happens there must remain legible as training. Joo Jaekyung’s technical explanation gives him exactly that permission.

This is why Kim Dan accepts the justification without protest. He does not reinterpret the embrace as love because he does not yet need to. The structure remains intact: work is work, intimacy is intimacy, and when the two overlap, the overlap is attributed to technique rather than feeling.

In this sense, Joo Jaekyung’s restraint protects both of them. It protects Kim Dan from having to reinterpret the gesture emotionally, and it protects Joo Jaekyung from articulating feelings he has no vocabulary for outside the grammar of training. Care is real, but its meaning is postponed. Love is present, but encoded as vigilance.

This postponement explains why the “flower” has not yet opened. It exists, but inwardly folded. Growth is happening, but it is constrained by the only relational language both men currently share: effort, endurance, correction, control.

They know how to train together.
They know how to recover.
They know how to endure crisis.
They know obligation.

They do not yet know how to choose pleasure together — how to eat, rest, shop, watch a movie, or enjoy time without purpose. Even their earlier “break” at the amusement park existed because Joo Jaekyung needed rest, not because they mutually chose leisure. Fun, like intimacy, has always been instrumental.

What episode 88 reveals is not the absence of love, but its confinement. Pleasure appears — undeniably — yet remains untranslated. Sensation does not yet become knowledge. The flower is there, but it has not learned how to open outside the discipline that first allowed it to grow.

5. The slow reversal: from imposed care to accepted challenge

The most important moment comes when Kim Dan manages to reverse positions and pin Joo Jaekyung. (chapter 88) The shock and joy are mutual. Joo Jaekyung is genuinely surprised. Kim Dan is genuinely proud—though he barely allows himself to register it. (chapter 88) This is not equality yet. But it is the first time Kim Dan experiences himself as capable, not merely compliant. The training that began as imposed authority becomes a shared test and experience. Importantly, Kim Dan did not ask for this moment. It emerged because he stayed. This stands in opposition to the sparring in front of the fighters. (chapter 26) Back then, Doc Dan had accepted the challenge due to Potato, though deep down he desired to have the champion as his teacher. (chapter 25) That’s how it dawned on me that doc Dan has gradually taken over Yoon-Gu’s previous place at the gym. He is an “unofficial member” of Team Black. Thus he mops the floor and Yoon-Gu is not there to stop him or reclaim this position. (chapter 88) Yoon-Gu’s position within the gym has improved. He is now considered as a real fighter.

6. Where the flower is

If the previous sections trace a movement, this final observation names its limit. To understand why the flower in episode 88 has only begun to appear, it is necessary to return to Erich Fromm’s definition of love, which rests on four inseparable elements: care, responsibility, respect, and knowledge. [For more read:“The Art Of Loving” (locked)] Love, in this framework, does not exist where only one or two of these are present. It requires all four to be active at once in order to become sustaining, conscious, and mutual.

Episode 88 makes one thing unmistakably clear: in the relationship between Joo Jaekyung and Kim Dan, three of these elements are already in place. One is not.

Care is not what this relationship lacks. (chapter 88) Joo Jaekyung’s care is visible throughout the episode, even when it is expressed awkwardly or through misdirection. His insistence on training, his attention to Kim Dan’s stamina, his refusal to let Kim Dan dismiss his own physical limits (chapter 88), and his final reminder to “take good care of yourself” all belong to the same logic. This care is protective and practical, but it is still delivered under the cover of training—phrased as guidance, risk-management, and performance maintenance rather than as attachment. He is capable of saying “take care,” but he still cannot say what the care ultimately means: I want you close; I worry about losing you; I don’t know how to keep you besides making you stronger. For someone like Jaekyung, whose life has been organized around performance and endurance, this is the only available language of concern. Kim Dan, too, expresses care, though in a displaced form. He worries about Jaekyung’s exhaustion, (chapter 88), minimizes his own needs and tries not to become a burden. Care moves in both directions, even if it rarely reaches its intended target.

Responsibility is equally present, and equally heavy. Jaekyung assumes responsibility for Kim Dan’s safety and future (chapter 88), particularly in light of his own awareness that their time together is limited. The training is not arbitrary; it is oriented toward what comes after him. Kim Dan, meanwhile, takes responsibility in another way: by insisting on self-sufficiency (chapter 88), by promising to continue training on his own, by framing improvement as something he must manage independently. What stands out is that responsibility exists on both sides, but it is carried separately. Each assumes it alone, without yet allowing it to become shared.

Respect, too, is not absent. Jaekyung respects Kim Dan’s capacity to grow. (chapter 88) He challenges him not because he sees him as weak, but because he believes resistance is possible. (chapter 88) His praise, rare and restrained, signals recognition rather than indulgence. Kim Dan, in turn, respects Jaekyung’s discipline and endurance, sometimes to the point of idealization. This respect remains asymmetrical, but it is real. It has begun to shift from hierarchy toward recognition.

What is missing, and what keeps the flower from fully appearing, is knowledge—not information, not memory, but Fromm’s sense of active understanding of the other as a subject with inner needs, fears, and desires. In The Art of Loving, knowledge means seeing the other as they are, which requires two things at once:

  1. Honesty toward oneself (recognizing one’s own needs, fears, and desires), and
  2. Articulation toward the other (making that inner reality available rather than acting it out indirectly).

This is why words matter so much. Without words, care can exist, responsibility can exist, and even respect can exist — but they remain opaque. Joo Jaekyung knows exactly what he wants: time, proximity, continuity. He is acutely aware that his time with Kim Dan is running out. (chapter 88)

What he lacks is not intention, but translation and even courage. He does not know how to express his desire outside the vocabulary of work, discipline, and physical instruction. He can insist, challenge, and protect, but he cannot yet name why he does so. He still thinks, it is not possible to be loved due to his huge flaws and past wrongdoings. Kim Dan, on the other hand, does not yet know how to read care when it is not framed as sacrifice or obligation. He interprets insistence as burden, closeness as technique, affection as something that must be relocated elsewhere—into private space, into the penthouse, into moments that feel safer and more legible.

Their misunderstanding does not stem from a lack of feeling. It stems from a lack of confidence and shared language. Love is enacted rather than understood. Care, responsibility, and respect circulate between them, but knowledge—the capacity to see and articulate the other’s inner reality—has not yet entered the relationship. The reason is that both underestimate themselves. Thus both don’t speak the truth. This is why the flower in episode 88 is real but incomplete. It exists in the slow shift from refusal to engagement, from habit-driven self-denial to cautious participation. It exists in the fact that Kim Dan accepts the training not because he must, but because he begins to recognize the results from Jaekyung’s effort and insistence. He gradually accepts that Joo Jaekyung is genuinely concerned about him. He is gradually enjoying this, thus he voices his desire to learn more. Another problem is that both still think, they know each other. They have not recognized the importance of “words” and “honesty” yet. Nevertheless until knowledge emerges—until what is enacted can also be spoken—the flower remains folded inward. Not absent. Not broken. Simply unfinished.

Heesung × Potato: The Other Two Petals — Knowledge Without Responsibility

If the bond between Joo Jaekyung and Kim Dan exposes a surplus of care constrained by poor articulation, the dynamic between Heesung and Potato reveals the opposite imbalance:: knowledge without responsibility, and therefore without respect. The actor is able to express his thoughts and emotions all the time, yet he is not taking Potato’s feelings and thoughts into consideration. Thus he simply asks Yoon-Gu to hold the mitts and not be his sparring partner. (chapter 88) The way the “gumiho” speaks to the chow-chow is quite telling. He expects an agreement. Striking is that the young fighter doesn’t agree to the actor’s request, he answers with another question: “You don’t need a sparring partner?”. This question reveals that Yoon-Gu had already imagined himself differently. He had pictured a future moment in which he would not merely assist the actor’s training, but share it. In other words, he had already crossed an internal threshold: from helper to potential partner. The question exposes a private projection — a hope — that had not yet been verbalized until this moment.

That is why this exchange marks Yoon-Gu’s transformation. That’s why he is wearing a olive green sweater. (chapter 88) Olive green is not the vivid green of aspiration or idealization, nor the cold institutional green associated with discipline and hierarchy. It is a grounded, muted green — a color of transition. Symbolically, it sits between admiration and autonomy. By wearing it at this moment, Yoon-Gu visually signals a shift away from the champion’s gravitational pull. He is no longer oriented upward, toward an untouchable figure, but sideways, toward a peer relationship he is beginning to imagine. The green does not announce arrival; it marks movement. Growth here is not explosive but cautious, uneven, and still uncertain.

Crucially, this transformation does not stem from insecurity. Yoon-Gu is not suffering from low self-esteem. On the contrary, he speaks easily, moves freely, and voices his expectations without hesitation. What he lacks is not confidence, but self-awareness. He does not yet understand the structure he is entering, nor the asymmetry embedded in it. He mistakes proximity for reciprocity, access for acknowledgment. And the chow chow’s lack of self-awareness is also present, when he imagined that he could have followed to the amusement park. (chapter 87) For him, this trip was related to work, while in reality it was a date in disguise.

This becomes clearer when contrasted with the main couple. Between Kim Dan and Joo Jaekyung, communication is constrained, indirect, and often misaligned, as both are suffering from a low self-esteem and their past traumas. Desires are hidden behind habit, duty, or technical language. By contrast, the dialogue between Yoon-Gu and Choi Heesung is strikingly explicit. Both second leads speak readily. They articulate preferences, make requests, and voice dissatisfaction without visible hesitation. The only difference is that Heesung allows misunderstanding to persist. Joo Jaekyung abruptly corrects it. Neither approach is emotionally generous—but only one produces shock rather than slow erosion.

To conclude, this apparent fluency masks a deeper problem. What is missing here is not expression, but reflection.

Earlier, Yoon-Gu’s actions were shaped by obligation, imitation, or conditional promises (cleaning the floor, holding equipment or a bottle, proving usefulness). Here, the initiative is internal. He is no longer reacting to instructions; he is testing the possibility of recognition. (chapter 88) The desire precedes permission.

The tragedy of the moment lies not in the refusal itself, but in how it is answered. Heesung does not respond to the desire embedded in the question. He bypasses it with a technical explanation — size difference — which neutralizes the emotional risk Yoon-Gu has taken. (Chapter 88) The answer restores hierarchy without acknowledging the transformation that has already occurred. Secondly, the answer closes the future by appealing to a supposedly objective limit. Yoon-Gu can never be his sparring partner. The best he can do is hold the mitts and nothing more. The fox is using his seniority and body to have the final say.

This is where Heesung’s pride in knowing turns into arrogance. His explanation contradicts the very logic that governs the gym itself. Joo Jaekyung has just demonstrated explicitly that technique outweighs physical size, that discipline and practice can reverse power relations. (chapter 88) Under that framework, Yoon-Gu is not disqualified; he is qualified. He has trained. He belongs. So technically, Yoon-Gu could indeed beat the actor, as the “puppy” has trained for a long time at Team Black.

Yet Heesung’s knowledge is not grounded in the present conditions of Team Black. It is grounded on his past experience: he received special training from Joo Jaekyung. In other words, he is biased. Heesung prides himself on knowing. (special episode 1) He knows people’s patterns. (special episode 1) He knows how relationships fail. (chapter 33) (chapter 33) He knows what he does not want. His language is saturated with judgment shaped by past experiences: lovers who become “too clingy,” attachments that turn inconvenient, people who should remain “better off” elsewhere (chapter 58). This knowledge is not neutral; it is retrospective and comparative. It is built from what has disappointed him before, and it governs how he evaluates others in the present. He views himself as superior to the champion morally.

This is where the symbolism of the “grass being greener on the other side” becomes essential. (chapter 33) Heesung’s orientation is never toward what is unfolding, but toward what might be better elsewhere—another partner, another configuration, another future. His repeated invocation of a “soulmate” is revealing: it displaces intimacy into a hypothetical horizon. By looking at the grass, he is overlooking the flower. Love, for him, is something to be found later, once the conditions are ideal. What exists now is always provisional, always lacking, always subject to replacement. He needs the “perfect” lover, and in his eyes, Potato doesn’t meet his conditions: too innocent and too young. (special episode 1) This explicates why the young fighter is only considered as “fuck buddy”. (special episode 1)

Potato exists precisely within this gap. Because he wanted to take responsibility. (special episode 1), he is present, available, even emotionally invested—but he is never treated as sufficient. He is smaller (chapter 88), younger and as such less experienced, he is positioned as someone who does not yet qualify as a sparring partner, or even less as a boyfriend. Observe how he presented his relationship to doc Dan. (chapter 58) Heesung’s use of the pronoun “we” is, on the surface, inclusive. Linguistically, it frames his relationship with Potato as mutual, shared, and consensual. But pragmatically, it does the opposite. The “we” is spoken over Potato’s head, not with him. Thus Potato is physically present but discursively absent. He does not confirm, nuance, or reciprocate the statement verbally. The pronoun thus becomes a rhetorical appropriation rather than a sign of partnership.

What makes the remark particularly uncomfortable is the context: Heesung is not speaking to Potato, but to Kim Dan. The sentence is not meant to communicate within the relationship; it is meant to display the relationship to a third party. In that sense, “we” functions as a prop. It allows Heesung to stage intimacy without assuming responsibility for how that staging affects the person he claims to include. He is not saying that he is dating Yoon-Gu either. In other words, he is behaving like Joo Jaekyung in season 1. (chapter 31) He denies the existence of feelings and attachment.

The embarrassment of Potato is not accidental. It is structurally produced by the asymmetry of the situation. Heesung controls the narrative, the tone, and the implication. By adding “in more ways than one,” he sexualizes the bond implicitly, while maintaining plausible deniability. Nothing explicit is said; everything is insinuated. This is knowledge without accountability. Heesung knows exactly how the line will land—on Kim Dan, and on Potato—but he does not take responsibility for either impact.

On the other hand, Heesung feels so comfortable around doc Dan, that he is willing to divulge more. He assumes Kim Dan will “understand” him. He is speaking in a coded register, relying on shared cultural assumptions: that closeness implies sexuality, that sexuality implies connection. In doing so, he treats Kim Dan as a potential ally in interpretation, not as a moral interlocutor. He expects recognition, perhaps even complicity, rather than reprimand or judgment.

This is where the contrast with Joo Jaekyung becomes sharp. Joo Jaekyung struggles to name intimacy and often hides it behind work or discipline—but he does not instrumentalize language to control (special episode 1) or humiliate the other. (chapter 34) Heesung, by contrast, is fluent. He can name, joke, insinuate. What he lacks is restraint and responsibility. His ease with words does not signal emotional intelligence; it signals control.

Heesung does not call Yoon-Gu weak outright, but the hierarchy is unmistakable: Potato is handled (chapter 88), redirected (special episode 2), corrected. (chapter 88) Even when Heesung intervenes on his behalf, it is not through shared responsibility but through dismissal—deciding what is best for him without asking what he truly wants.

This lack of responsibility is crucial. Responsibility, in Fromm’s sense, is not obligation imposed from above; it is the willingness to respond to the other as a subject whose needs and presence matter now. Heesung does not assume this stance. He neither commits nor withdraws cleanly. Instead, he hovers—knowing enough to judge, but refusing the burden of staying.

This explains why Heesung reacts so strongly to the relationship between Kim Dan and Joo Jaekyung. He does not simply misunderstand it; he rejects it (chapter 31) because it violates his model of love. Doc Dan is not introduced or claimed as his boyfriend. For him, it is simply related to the athlete’s jinx. (chapter 32). It has no declared endpoint, no moral clarity (chapter 34), no soulmate label. Rather than engaging with what the relationship is doing —how it functions, how it transforms both participants—Heesung tries to name it away: a jinx, a mistake, a lack of feelings. Naming, here, becomes a defense against involvement.

The scene in the penthouse crystallizes this refusal. (chapter 34) Heesung enters fully aware of what he is likely to witness. He is not naïve, nor totally surprised. Hence he doesn’t flee right away. Yet instead of acknowledging the reality before him, Doc Dan is not someone the fighter fucks, until he passes out, (chapter 33), he reframes the encounter as an accusation. The man is crazy. (chapter 34) Joo Jaekyung becomes the problem, the one who “deserves to suffer.” (chapter 58) This moral displacement allows Heesung to maintain distance: if Jaekyung is guilty, then no self-examination is required. Forgiveness—central to this arc (from 79 to 89)—is rendered impossible, because forgiveness would require recognizing shared vulnerability rather than assigning blame.

Potato, by contrast, is repeatedly asked to adapt. Earlier, he cleans, waits (chapter 25), accepts deferral. Later, he is displaced entirely. Unlike Kim Dan, who gradually moves from imposed participation to earned agency, Potato is never given a space where effort leads to recognition. (chapter 85) However, this panel implies that the young man has already been able to enter competition. Striking is that his promise at the seaside sounds like commitment (chapter 59), but the reality diverges. It only binds doc Dan. If the latter returns to Seoul, he has to promise to train with Potato. The reason is simple. He is already committed to the actor, he is already at his beck and call. Potato’s promise echoes the earlier promise forced upon Kim Dan by his grandmother: a future-oriented vow that justifies present sacrifice while guaranteeing nothing in return. (chapter 11)

This is the structural tragedy of the Heesung–Potato dynamic. There is confidence and knowledge—sharp, observational, even insightful—but it is not paired with responsibility. And without responsibility, respect and care collapse into condescension. Potato is not met as an equal in becoming, but as someone perpetually not-yet-ready. While Yoon-Gu had been deeply affected by doc Dan’s departure. (chapter 78), he didn’t remind doc Dan of his promise. At the same time, observe that none of the fighters apologized or promised something. When they hugged the doctor, they didn’t pay attention to the physical therapist’s reaction: his passivity and silence. The “laugh” lacked genuineness and felt wrong at the time. (chapter 78)

But let’s return our attention to the petals Heesung and Potato. Placed beside Joo Jaekyung and Kim Dan, the contrast is stark. Jaekyung lacks fluency, but not commitment. He does not know how to speak love, yet he stays. Heesung knows how to speak about dating and love, hence he offers a bouquet of roses. But he does not remain when love demands endurance rather than evaluation.

Secondly, Heesung embodies selfishness, which is also perceptible the way he appears at the gym. (Chapter 88) He had planned to use the gym without the champion’s consent and knowledge. And Potato was not expecting the presence of the main couple either. (Chapter 88) This is how it dawned on me why Mingwa recreated such a situation for Heesung. Observe his reaction, when he opened the door. He never answered the question to Potato. In fact, he slammed the door and kept his thoughts to himself. (chapter 88) As you can detect, he remained silent the whole time. It was, as though he was ignoring his lover.

What ultimately exposes the asymmetry in Heesung and Yoon-Gu’s relationship is not overt exploitation, but silence. Episode 88 stages this with remarkable precision. Heesung enters the gym without coordination (chapter 88), without consent from its owner, and without paying any visible cost. He does not announce himself as a guest, does not ask permission, and does not explain his presence. Instead, the intrusion is normalized through omission. Silence becomes the mechanism by which power circulates unnoticed.

Crucially, Yoon-Gu is excluded from the truth of the situation. Readers understand why Heesung is there; Yoon-Gu does not. The actor’s internal reaction (chapter 88) can be read as a moment of comic frustration. In fact, it reveals something far more consequential: this visit was never conceived as a shared activity with Yoon-Gu at all. The training session was not planned for him, nor with him. Yoon-Gu was not included as a subject in Heesung’s intention. He was a means.

This internal monologue exposes the logic of the intrusion. Heesung did not come to train with Yoon-Gu, nor to support him, nor to acknowledge his aspirations. He came to work off his own emotional agitation, to use the gym as a private outlet. Therefore it is not surprising that Yoon-Gu’s presence is reduced to him holding the mitts. His presence is incidental—useful, but not constitutive. When the situation threatens to escalate (chapter 88), Heesung does not think, What will happen to Yoon-Gu? He thinks only of himself: his inconvenience, his exposure, his embarrassment.

That omission is decisive. It confirms that Yoon-Gu is positioned not as a partner in training, but as an accessory to Heesung’s fitness and fun. He provides access, labor, and cover, yet remains excluded from knowledge and from choice. This mirrors an earlier pattern: just as Kim Dan once provided unpaid care under the guise of compensation (chapter 32), Yoon-Gu now provides unpaid labor and institutional access under the guise of familiarity and generosity (chapter 35). In both cases, Heesung benefits from proximity without assuming responsibility for the other person’s risk. Silence, here, is not neutral—it is the mechanism by which that asymmetry is maintained.

At the same time, this regret (chapter 88) confirms that Heesung knows he has crossed a boundary. Yet this awareness produces no corrective action. He does not warn Yoon-Gu, does not acknowledge the risk he is creating for him, and does not assume responsibility for the consequences of being discovered. His concern remains entirely self-directed: embarrassment, inconvenience, exposure. Yoon-Gu’s position is not considered.

The irony is that this silence is beneficial for the chow chow . (chapter 88) It actively conceals Yoon-Gu’s complicity while simultaneously depending on it. Heesung could not have accessed the gym without Yoon-Gu. The most plausible inference is that Yoon-Gu provided entry—either by unlocking the space or by lending legitimacy to Heesung’s presence. Yet when the moment of confrontation approaches, Heesung does not speak. (chapter 88) He does not answer Yoon-Gu’s question—“Is there someone in there?”—because answering would reveal responsibility. Another important detail is that though Yoon-Gu provided the access, he simply followed the actor. The latter is the one opening the door to PT Room and not the member of Team Black. It exposes that the fox is really the one committing the wrongdoing, and he can not blame the chow chow for it.

Silence, here, is not absence of speech but a strategy of avoidance. (special episode 1) Heesung does not negotiate, explain, or repair. He doesn’t give any excuse. He moves through spaces as though access were guaranteed and consequences optional. However, this time, his silence is used against him. (chapter 88) Forgiveness, responsibility, and mutual recognition—central to the arc unfolding elsewhere—are entirely absent from his conduct. Where Joo Jaekyung begins to redistribute choice and accountability, Heesung consolidates control by refusing to speak.

This is why Heesung cannot embody forgiveness in this arc. Forgiveness requires acknowledgment; acknowledgment requires speech; speech requires responsibility. Heesung chooses none of these. Instead, he preserves his self-image by leaving others to absorb the impact of his actions. Yet, in episode 88, it is no longer possible.

In this sense, the flower associated with Heesung and Yoon-Gu never opens. Knowledge is present. While Heesung understands dynamics, motives, and outcomes, the chow chow heard all the information (chapter 52) about the switched spray, but he only reported one thing: Kim Dan is innocent. So while insight is present, responsibility is systematically deferred. Without responsibility, respect cannot follow. And without respect, what appears as connection is merely use, quietly sustained by silence.

In the end, the other two petals do not fail because of ignorance. They fail because knowledge, when severed from responsibility, becomes a tool of avoidance. Love is postponed indefinitely—always imagined, never practiced. On the other hand, since he knows about the champion’s past sexual habits, it signifies that the actor became the witness of TRUE LOVE. Joo Jaekyung is kissing doc Dan. (chapter 88) The irony is that the actor didn’t realize this. He had the impression to be exposed to a similar scene than in the penthouse. (chapter 88) It is important because with this knowledge, he can expose the truth to doc Dan: the athlete loves him. In the past, he could say this without explaining his statement. (chapter 35) And now, pay attention to the logo on the doctor’s t- shirt. (chapter 88) First, it appears on the left side, positioned close to the hamster’s heart. Moreover, it looks like an orange eye. Orange is not only the color of Heesung the fox (chapter 34), but also of friendship and social communication and interaction.

That means, doc Dan is on the verge of having true friends. Joo Jaekyung will stop demanding exclusivity by isolating doc Dan from the others. (chapter 79) Besides, it is the same logo than when Yoon-Gu was spying behind the closed door. (chapter 23) That’s the moment Potato realized the truth about the couple: they were intimate. That’s the reason why I am convinced that Heesung will play the role of the messenger and mediator between the wolf and the hamster.

To conclude, I perceive the actor as the bridge between the two main leads. He embodies language, knowledge, love as feeling, but more importantly he stands for friendship and fun, notions which don’t exist in the main couple’s world yet.

That’s it for the first part. In the second part, I will examine the final panel and the significance of the fighters’ return.

Feel free to comment. If you have any suggestion for topics or Manhwa, feel free to ask. If you enjoyed reading it, retweet it or push the button like. My Reddit-Instagram-Twitter-Tumblr account is: @bebebisous33. Thanks for reading and for the support, particularly, I would like to thank all the new followers and people recommending my blog.

Jinx: Between A Squeeze🤝 And A Crack ⛓️‍💥 – part 2

Please support the authors by reading Manhwas on the official websites. This is where you can read the ManhwaJinx  But be aware that the Manhwa is a mature Yaoi, which means, it is about homosexuality with explicit scenes. Here is the link of the table of contents about JinxHere is the link where you can find the table of contents of analyzed Manhwas. Here are the links, if you are interested in the first work from Mingwa, BJ Alex,  and the 2 previous essays about Jinx  The Secrets Behind The Floors and Between A Squeeze And A Crack – part 1

It would be great if you could make some donations/sponsoring: Ko-fi.com/bebebisous33  That way, you can support me with “coffee” so that I have the energy to keep examining Manhwas. Besides, I need to cover up the expenses for this blog.

The Power of Voice

In the first part of this essay, I lingered on two gestures that never fully entered language: the squeeze of a hand (chapter 87), and the destruction of black glass under Baek Junmin’s foot. (chapter 87) Both moments operate under pressure, yet they belong to radically different economies. One gathers force inward to protect, contain, and care. The other expels force outward to fracture, dominate, and erase. The biggest difference is not intensity, but direction—and whether the other is held, or destroyed.

What remained implicit, however, was something more unsettling. In both cases, movement begins with voice.

In the bed scene, the sequence is precise. The champion whispers first. (chapter 87) He asks for strength and luck (chapter 87). Kim Dan answers with a gesture, the offered hand accompanied with a wish: (chapter 87). Only then does the squeeze occur. Words initiate connection; the body confirms it. Speech and gesture align. Pressure becomes care.

In the other scene, words are also present (chapter 87) —but they are refused. Baek Junmin is denied any possibility of reply—no space to answer, to justify himself, or even to speak back. (chapter 87) The screen interposed between them (chapter 87) functions as both a physical and symbolic barrier: it delivers judgment without permitting response. Deprived of dialogue, Junmin is pushed out of language altogether. What remains available to him is not speech, but the body. His answer therefore does not come in words, but through the hand (chapter 87) and then through the foot. (chapter 87) Not as dialogue, but as rupture.

Read this way, the attack on the television screen becomes fully intelligible. (chapter 87) The violence is not misdirected; it is precisely directed at the medium that silences him. The screen is the site of exclusion, (chapter 87) the object that speaks at him while preventing him from speaking back. Striking it is not an attempt to destroy an image, but to break through a barrier—to replace blocked language with immediate, corporeal force.

And now, my avid readers comprehend the illustration for Between a Squeeze and a Crack The champion’s voice represents a turning point. The title displays this difference. In both moments, the champion’s voice carries weight. What changes is not the force of the words, but the space in which they fall—and whether anyone is willing, or able, to answer them.

Part II begins at the moment when this difference becomes irreversible.

An Invisible Revolution: The Rising of the Dragon

Something changes in episode 87. And that shift does not begin with shouting, provocation, or scandal. It begins with voice seeking alignment.

Before the interview (chapter 87), before the challenge (chapter 87), the champion turns around. (chapter 87) He looks—not at the crowd, not at the institution, but at Kim Dan. The gaze matters. It establishes a circuit. Like a phone call finally answered, it places both on the same wavelength. Only then does the question come. (chapter 87) Here again, language and body are aligned. (chapter 87) Kim Dan answers—first with a nod, then with words. The response is clear, immediate, and embodied. And what follows is decisive: the champion raises his arm. (chapter 87)

He does not wait for the referee. He does not wait for the jury. He does not wait for the organization.

This gesture is easy to overlook. It is not aggressive. It is not loud. Yet it is quietly revolutionary. When contrasted with his previous matches (chapter 15) (chapter 40) (chapter 51), its meaning sharpens. For the first time, Kim Dan no longer occupies the position of fan or witness. He functions as judge and jury. 😮 And the champion acts accordingly. He declares himself the winner. (chapter 87)

Authority shifts before exposure occurs.

This is the missing step. Validation has already taken place. (chapter 87) Legitimacy is no longer awaited; it has been secured within the relationship itself. What follows is not a request for recognition, but its declaration. (chapter 87) Doc Dan is the one turning Joo Jaekyung into a champion, into the Emperor. And I doubt, MFC noticed this revolutionary gesture.

Therefore it is not surprising that shortly after the champion takes the microphone. (chapter 87) Joo Jaekyung is no longer a puppet or zombie, but a man with a heart and voice.

And the microphone is not incidental. By taking it, the dragon deliberately secures visibility, recording, and irreversibility. But more importantly, he seizes narrative control. (chapter 87)

The microphone is the institution’s tool. (chapter 46) It regulates turn-taking, determines who may speak, in what order, and under which framing. As long as it remains in the moderator’s hand, speech is mediated, filtered, and contextualized. Questions lead; answers follow. Meaning circulates vertically.

By removing the microphone from that circuit, the champion disarms the moderator. (chapter 87) The interview collapses. What remains is not dialogue, but unilateral address. This is why the moderator’s only possible response is an apology. (chapter 87) He no longer moderates; he reacts. He cannot redirect the statement, soften it, or translate it into spectacle. He can only acknowledge that something has escaped containment. The apology is not moral—it is procedural. It marks the moment the institution loses authorship.

What was once private and contained now enters public time without mediation. The champion is no longer being narrated (chapter 57); he is narrating. He does not answer a question (chapter 87) —he establishes a position. (chapter 87) And because this occurs live, the statement cannot be re-sequenced, reframed, or quietly absorbed later. In this moment, authority shifts again—not from fighter to organization, but away from the organization entirely. The champion speaks, as if MFC and CSPP were already secondary. The conflict no longer belongs to the apparatus that stages it. Wait a minute… CSPP? What is that?

This logo only caught my attention in the latest episode. However, it was already present in the beginning, but barely visible. (chapter 14) Yet, CSPP appears more and more insistently (chapter 87), even in the cage (chapter 87), contrary to before. (chapter 15) Either you only see the C or the name is placed out of the frame. (chapter 40) Yet it remains unexplained. What does it stand for in the world of Jinx? A sponsor? A broadcaster? The story never defines it explicitly—and that absence matters. What goes unnamed is often what exercises the most power. I will elaborate about it further.

Exposure, then, is not the cause of rupture. It is its consequence. The rupture occurs earlier, at the moment the champion looks for doc Dan’s gaze and opinion. That’s when the narration changes hands. Thus he raised his arm. What was once private and contained now risks exposure. (chapter 87) Hence the behavior of the wolf is filmed. At the same time, doc Dan appears much closer to the spotlight and the camera. Thus I deduce that in the future, doc Dan is about to enter into the spotlight. Some Jinx-philes are already speculating that his face could have been noticed by the cameraman and as such by the institution MFC or the antagonists.

This matters because the system surrounding him—MFC, CSPP, broadcast commentary, and the managerial logic embodied by Park Namwook (chapter 36) —depends on mediation. Delay. Scoring. Interpretation. The quiet redistribution of meaning after the fact. As long as nothing is said outright (chapter 69), control remains possible. Once speech becomes public, control becomes fragile.

The live broadcast sharpens this rupture. (chapter 87) Live means witnessed. And once witnessed, meaning no longer belongs to a single institution. It circulates among viewers: patients at the hospice (chapter 87), people in the seaside town, a public that exists before commentary can shape it.

Even the visuals insist on this distinction. When red, green, and white are mixed (chapter 87), they neutralize one another. The result is a muted, earthy tone—balance achieved through cancellation. That palette dominates the opening of the episode. It signals containment and fragile harmony. (chapter 87)

Baek Junmin’s shoe tells a different story. (chapter 87) The same colors appear, but they do not blend. They exist side by side, unresolved. Rage, greed, jealousy, emptiness—none neutralize the others. In chromatic terms, this is not balance but erosion. Because red and green are complementary opposites, their refusal to merge points not toward power, but toward self-destruction.

So now the question is no longer why Joo Jaekyung spoke. His speech was anticipated. In fact, it was partially scripted. The system expected resentment, accusation, even open hostility toward Baek Junmin—and in that sense, the champion’s words remained within the frame that had been imagined for him. His anger was legible, manageable, and therefore harmless.

The failure lies elsewhere. What happens when speech is anticipated—but its emotional and physical consequences are not? What happens when words fail to remain governable once they enter circulation? When images detach from their managers? When words no longer stabilize power, but instead generate rupture and conflict?

Part II addresses these questions sequentially: first through the fight and its language, then through the broadcast and mediation, and finally through the asymmetry of responses it produces.

Between a squeeze and a crack lies the instant when pressure stops circulating quietly and begins to transform the field itself. This part of the essay is about that instant—and about what happens when containment gives way to exposure.

The Fight as Language: Technique, Tempo, and Control

Before the speech, before the microphone, before the question that pretends to offer a choice, there is the fight itself. (chapter 87) And the fight already answers the questions the system hopes to postpone. What we see in the cage is not merely a contest of strength, but a clash of communicative regimes. How one fights here is inseparable from how one speaks, evades, provokes, or withholds.

Arnaud Gabriel’s strategy is immediately legible. He does not seek resolution; he seeks accumulation. (chapter 87) His movement privileges distance, tempo (chapter 87) and visibility. That way he gives the impression that he is superior to the former champion. The middle kick appears not as a finishing tool (chapter 87), but as an instrument of disruption—enough to score, enough to interrupt rhythm, never enough to end the exchange. The rest of his offense follows the same logic: repeated punches to the face (chapter 87), the hands, the shoulder. Targets chosen not for collapse, but for points. Not to silence the opponent, but to keep him talking through damage. The choice of targets is not arbitrary. The hands and the shoulder are not neutral zones. They are sites of vulnerability that presuppose knowledge. Arnaud Gabriel does not fight, as if he were discovering his opponent in real time; he fights as if he were acting on prior information. (chapter 82) He anticipated a diminished MMA fighter at the end of his career who would train at the hotel gym. His punches repeatedly return to the same areas—not to finish, but to aggravate. Not to silence, but to extract fatigue.

This matters because these are not weaknesses produced inside the cage alone. (chapter 87) The shoulder carries the memory of surgery and recovery. The hands mediate both offense and defense; exhausting them degrades reach, timing, and confidence. And breathlessness (chapter 82)—noticed earlier during training—signals something even more fragile: limits that are physiological, not tactical.

What the fight reveals, then, is a second layer of mediation. Gabriel’s strategy appears reactive, but it is in fact anticipatory. (chapter 87) It aligns disturbingly well with what had already circulated outside the match: commentary about tension, exhaustion, time away from competition. Whether through media narratives, observation, or informal channels of intelligence, the opponent’s body has already been translated into information.

This confirms something the system prefers not to name. In Jinx, fighters do not enter the cage as blank presences. They arrive already annotated. (chapter 47) Already discussed. Already framed. Gabriel’s reliance on point accumulation is inseparable from this logic. (chapter 87) He does not need to dominate the body; he needs to activate its known limits and let the scoring apparatus do the rest.

Seen this way, the fight mirrors the economy of speech that surrounds it. Information circulates before confrontation. Weakness is spoken elsewhere, then reenacted physically. The opponent is not answered directly; he is managed.

Against this backdrop, Joo Jaekyung’s refusal to continue circulating (chapter 87) —his decision to close distance, to counter decisively, to end the exchange rather than prolong it—appears less like impatience than resistance. He does not correct the narrative. He interrupts it.

This is important. Gabriel’s fight is structured around being seen. He “circles”, he lands, he retreats. He performs control without assuming responsibility for outcome. The commentators name it explicitly: (chapter 87) if he sticks to this strategy, he can rack up points and win by decision. Victory here does not come from transformation, but from endurance within the rules. It is a fight designed to be judged, mediated, interpreted later.

Under this logic, victory does not belong to the fighter who transforms the exchange, but to the institution that interprets it. This is not new. In episode 47, Park Namwook (chapter 47) articulates the same principle explicitly: not a knockout, not a decisive end, but a strategy that stretches time, drains energy, and leaves judgment in the hands of referees and juries. (chapter 51) The fight is no longer about what happens between bodies, but about who controls evaluation. And that’s how they could rig the match between Baek Junmin and Joo Jaekyung. (chapter 51) without ever appearing fraudulent.

By encouraging endurance, point accumulation, and delayed resolution, authority shifts away from the fighters and toward referees and juries. Decisiveness becomes a liability. Ambiguity becomes profitable. Read in this light, the director’s remark about young fighters lacking fighting spirit and being arrogant (chapter 70) acquires a different meaning. What he condemns as arrogance is not a moral failure, but a structural adaptation. These fighters have learned that they do not need to finish fights with a knockout. They only need to prolong them—to survive them—because the system will finish the sentence for them. Therefore, the moderator’s commentary during the match introducing the new Korean fighter takes on a clearer function. (chapter 71) He frames the rookie as someone “waiting for the right timing,” subtly suggesting a coming knockout rather than prolonged survival. The language is important: it reassures the audience that decisiveness still exists within the system, that power is merely deferred—not absent.

But this is precisely where the narration fails. The moderator’s interpretation is not an analysis of what is happening in the cage; it is a reassurance directed outward, toward spectators who still expect resolution. (chapter 71) The director is not persuaded. Hwang Byungchul reads the situation differently. He recognizes stiffness, fear, and overreliance on structure—not composure, not strategy. Where the moderator sees patience, the director sees hesitation. Where commentary insists on strategy, experience detects rigidity and lack of instincts.

This discrepancy matters. It exposes the gap between institutional narration and embodied knowledge. Commentary works to preserve belief in the system’s fairness and coherence; the director’s reaction reveals how deeply fighters have been trained to survive judgment rather than risk transformation. The moderator speaks to maintain the illusion of control. The director sees through it because he understands what a fighter looks like when he is no longer fighting to win, but to last.

Read this way, Arnaud Gabriel is not an anomaly but a template. His method externalizes power. By avoiding resolution, he transfers authority away from the cage and into the system that counts, frames, and decides. The longer the match, the greater this discretion becomes.

Under this light, the absence of strategic advisors for the match in Paris is no oversight. (chapter 81) It is an assumption: that the outcome no longer requires athletic intervention. The champion is treated as a finished product, a celebrity whose role is to endure visibility, not to alter the terms of the fight itself.

And this is precisely how Arnaud Gabriel behaves outside (chapter 82) and inside the cage. (chapter 87) Publicly, he is courteous. Measured. Even complimentary. (chapter 82) His mockery arrives only after contact has been broken—after the bell, after the exchange, after safety has been restored. (chapter 82) He remarks, not as confrontation, but as commentary. Like his fighting style, his speech avoids commitment. It is designed to sting without escalating, to destabilize without consequence. Gabriel never needs to raise his voice because the system will finish his sentence for him. His confidence does not announce itself; it is delegated. He hides arrogance and cynicism behind smiles (chapter 82), gentle and polite gestures, and tactical distance— away from the spotlight, away from overt confrontation. His restraint is not humility, but alignment. He performs civility so that judgment, narration, and authority can be outsourced to the institution. That’s why for him, fighting is strongly intertwined with fun and he sees himself more as a star than as an athlete. He is definitely influenced by MFC. Hence we can say that his suit mirrors his mind-set. Gabriel’s suit does not soften his presence; it disciplines it. The patterned fabric signals rigidity rather than elegance—structure over fluidity. It mirrors his fighting style: calibrated, rule-bound, resistant to improvisation. Nothing about his appearance invites rupture. Everything is designed to hold form.

Baek Junmin operates according to the same economy, even if his temperament is different.

Like Gabriel, he relies on intermediaries. (chapter 52) He lets others speak, provoke, circulate images, manage money, create pressure. (chapter 54) His power does not come from direct address, but from displacement. When he does appear, it is rarely to argue. (chapter 49) It is to smirk, to whisper, to apply pressure obliquely. In both cases, the logic is identical: control is preserved by never being fully present.

What distinguishes Joo Jaekyung in this fight is that he refuses this grammar. (chapter 87)

In the first round, his so-called inability to land a hit is not simply frustration or decline. (chapter 87) It is more observation. He allows the opponent to speak first—to reveal the structure of the exchange. (chapter 87) Gabriel runs, scores points, performs mastery. The system recognizes this as competence. (chapter 87) But competence is not the same as authority. The main lead was simply waiting for the right time.

The shift comes with the back kick. (chapter 87)

A back kick is not a display technique. It is a counter. It requires timing, proximity, and commitment. It is thrown not to accumulate points, but to end conversation. (chapter 87) When it lands, it collapses distance. It forces the opponent inward. And crucially, it targets the center of the body—not the face that earns applause, but the core that sustains movement.

What the kick takes away is not balance alone, but breath. (chapter 87) This matters. Breath is what allows speech, rhythm, and continuity. By striking the abdomen, Joo Jaekyung does not silence Arnaud Gabriel symbolically; he silences him physiologically. The cough is not incidental. It is the visible sign of a system failure. The “eagle”—the aerial, circling, point-accumulating fighter—cannot stay aloft once the diaphragm collapses. Flight gives way to gravity.

The follow-up matters even more. After the back kick, Joo Jaekyung closes in (chapter 87) and delivers an uppercut. (chapter 87) This is not escalation; it is completion. Where Gabriel sought to keep the fight open, Joo Jaekyung compresses it. He refuses the long exchange. He refuses circulation. He refuses to wait for judgment. His strategy is not to be evaluated later, but to be undeniable now.

The back kick strips Arnaud Gabriel of breath. (chapter 87) The uppercut strips him of orientation. (chapter 87)

Once the diaphragm collapses, Gabriel is no longer capable of regulating posture or timing. The uppercut intervenes at precisely that moment—not to add force, but to resolve imbalance. It lifts a body that can no longer stabilize itself and interrupts any attempt at recovery. What follows is not resistance, but collapse. The eagle does not land; it falls. Arms and legs fail at once, and with them the capacity to stay airborne. (chapter 87) This is not silence imposed from outside, but silence produced by gravity. Once the body crashes, breath cannot return, and speech has nowhere to perch.

This distinction matters. Gabriel’s entire mode of fighting—and speaking—depends on continuity: light contact (chapter 87), controlled retreat, smiling commentary, damage spread thin enough to remain narratable. From my perspective, pain, for him, has always been something deferred (spread across rounds), translated (into points, commentary, statistics) and mediated (by rules, referees, judges, replay). (chapter 87) But the uppercut ends that translation. Crucially, it is Joo Jaekyung who calls this strike a “tap.” (chapter 87)

The word matters. By naming the uppercut this way, the champion reframes violence from the inside. He is not minimizing the impact; he is exposing a hierarchy of force. What appears decisive to the audience is, for him, secondary. The real rupture has already occurred with the loss of breath, with the back kick (chapter 87). Compared to that, the uppercut is merely punctuation.

This inversion reveals how far he has moved beyond a point-based or spectacle-driven economy of fighting. The strike that looks spectacular is not the one that matters most. The decisive action is the one that interrupts breath, rhythm, and continuity — the one that makes speech, posture, and recovery impossible.

After it lands, Gabriel does not speak. He does not smile. He does not reframe. He remains grounded, silent, and exposed. (chapter 87) This is why the moment feels disproportionate. It is not simply that Gabriel is hurt; it is that he appears unprepared for pain that interrupts language rather than ornamenting it.

The protagonist’s fighting style mirrors his communicative behavior exactly: alignment. (chapter 87)

Where Gabriel and Baek Junmin rely on deferral, Joo Jaekyung insists on alignment. Where they speak around conflict (chapter 74) (chapter 82) (chapter 87), he speaks into it. Where their power depends on systems that can reinterpret outcomes, his depends on moments that resist reinterpretation. It looks as though the athlete has internalized surprise as a mode of operation. (chapter 87) Not surprise as chaos, but as interruption. Each decisive movement arrives before it can be absorbed by the system—before it can be scored, reframed, or deferred to later interpretation. The opponent is caught off-balance, but so is the moderator, whose script assumes predictability. Surprise here is not a tactic for winning exchanges; it is a tactic for breaking mediation.

This is why the moderator’s question is not accidental. It is an attempt to pull the champion back into a familiar structure: (chapter 87) Two options. Two lanes. A controlled fork in the road. The equivalent of Gabriel’s point-scoring strategy translated into language. But the fight has already shown us why this will fail despite the appearances

Joo Jaekyung has no interest in winning by decision—whether athletic or rhetorical. He does not want to be interpreted. He wants to be answered. (chapter 87)

Seen this way, the fight is not a prelude to the speech. It is its proof. The jinx mattered because it did not merely weaken the champion’s body; it rendered him structurally mute. (chapter 2) While the jinx held, action could still occur, but speech could not carry consequence. Words dissipated, were deferred, or were absorbed by systems designed to neutralize them. Powerlessness expressed itself as speechlessness.

What breaks in episode 87 is not luck, but that condition. The jinx no longer governs his relation to outcome. And the clearest sign of that release is not victory, but articulation. (chapter 87) He can now act in ways that resist reinterpretation—and speak in ways that cannot be postponed.

Surprise becomes possible, only once the jinx loses its grip. While cursed, every move was anticipated, rerouted, or explained away. Once uncursed, the champion no longer needs permission, timing, or validation from the system. (chapter 87) His actions arrive before meaning can be reassigned. His words arrive where no answer is prepared. In this sense, episode 87 marks the moment Joo Jaekyung becomes fluent in his own discipline. Not merely competent, not merely dominant, but articulate. His movements surprise (chapter 87) because they are no longer designed to be legible in advance. They are not bids for approval; they are declarations.

Where Arnaud Gabriel’s fighting style depends on being read, scored, and explained—on allowing the system to finish his sentence—Joo Jaekyung’s now depends on interruption. Each movement cuts across expectation. Each decision arrives before mediation can begin. Surprise is no longer an accident; it is his mode of expression. That’s how it dawned on me why he won this match so quickly after his first night with doc Dan (chapter 5) which had surprised his manager Park Namwook. (chapter 5)

The system believes it still governs outcomes because it confuses movement with control. Gabriel moves. Baek Junmin circulates. But neither transforms the field. Joo Jaekyung does. First with his body. Soon with his voice.

And once speech enters the same register as the back kick (chapter 87) —direct, unmediated, irreversible—there will be no neutral ground left to retreat to. (chapter 87)

Commentary as Control: When Mediation Rewrites the Fight

Before the microphone is seized (chapter 87), the fight has already been partially rewritten. Not by the fighters, but by the voice that accompanies them.

The moderator’s narration does not describe the fight; it scripts how the fight should be seen. (chapter 87) Here, the man praises the French sportsman while omitting the action from the Korean athlete. This distinction matters. Commentary during the fight in Paris is not a neutral layer added after the fact. It intervenes in real time, assigning meaning, value, and legitimacy to movements as they occur. What counts as action, what counts as damage, and what counts as dominance are not decided solely by bodies in motion, but by the language that frames them.

A telling discrepancy appears early. Joo Jaekyung advances and throws a punch. (chapter 87) Visually, contact is registered: the onomatopoeia “TAP” marks the moment. Something happens. And yet the moderator declares, unequivocally: “Joo can’t land a single hit.” The issue is not that the blow lacks force; it is that it is rendered nonexistent. Contact is reclassified as absence.

By contrast, when Arnaud Gabriel touches (chapter 87) — repeatedly, often against guard or shoulder— those same gestures are narrated as accumulation. (chapter 87) Circling becomes “control.” Light strikes become “points.” Endurance becomes strategy. The same physical economy is not evaluated differently; it is counted differently. (chapter 87)

This asymmetry is systematic. Gabriel’s movements are framed as strong and intelligent, even when they produce no decisive effect. The thing is that Joo Jaekyung can withstand such punches. He has long internalized to use his body as shield. Besides, his movements, when they do not immediately collapse the opponent, are either omitted or framed as failure. (chapter 87) The moderator does not ask whether Joo is absorbing damage; he announces that Joo is being outmaneuvered. He does not note that Joo remains squared, grounded, and facing his opponent; he insists that Gabriel is “running circles around him.” (chapter 87)

What emerges is not analysis, but instruction. The commentary teaches the audience what to recognize as skill and what to dismiss as noise. It does not reflect the fight; it pre-interprets it, guiding perception toward a point-based, decision-oriented outcome. Victory, under this narration, is not something seized—it is something awarded later.

This is why the strategy attributed to Gabriel fits so cleanly within the system. His fight is designed to be judged. He circles, touches, retreats. He avoids moments that resist reinterpretation. He never needs to raise his voice or force a conclusion, because the system will finish his sentence for him. Commentary, jury, and scoring will translate minimal impact into legitimacy. Joo Jaekyung, by contrast, does not fight to be translated. He absorbs, advances, closes distance. His guard is not praised as strength and resilience but dismissed as passivity. (chapter 87) His contact is not evaluated but erased. The narration does not merely favor Gabriel; it prepares the conditions under which Gabriel’s approach can win without ever having to end the fight.

Seen this way, the fight is not merely athletic. It is already political. The moderator’s voice functions as an invisible hand on the scale, redefining what counts as action before the judges ever speak. It was already palpable during the match between the main lead and the Shotgun, but now it becomes more obvious.

This is the context in which the later intervention must be read. When Joo Jaekyung takes the microphone (chapter 87), he is not interrupting a fair narrative. He is reclaiming authorship from a system that has already begun to speak over his body.

Moderation as Deflection: The Interview as a Managed Choice

By the time the microphone appears, the fight is already over—but control over its meaning is not. (chapter 87) This is where the moderator enters the cage and becomes visible. His intervention is not neutral, and it is not merely journalistic. It is managerial.

The structure of his question reveals this immediately. He does not ask one question, then wait. He asks two at once: how the champion feels and whether he has words for Baek Junmin. This is not conversational clumsiness; it is a framing device. The champion is placed in front of a forced alternative: personal affect or rivalry hype. Either answer keeps the discourse safely within the register of sport. Both options redirect attention forward—toward the next match—rather than backward, toward responsibility.

This is a classic diversionary tactic. By introducing Baek Junmin at this precise moment, the moderator collapses multiple narratives into one convenient axis: fighter versus fighter. Institutional involvement disappears. The CEO of MFC disappears. Any irregularity becomes merely interpersonal tension. The interview is designed not to elicit truth, but to channel attention.

That this is happening on a live broadcast matters. The moderator is not improvising; he is containing risk in real time.

Who Is Watching—and Why That Matters

But what the moderator miscalculates is not the champion’s temperament, but his audience.

This match is not being watched only by fans or analysts. It is being watched by patients at the hospice. (chapter 87) It is being watched by staff. It is being watched by Hwang Byungchul—someone who knows the champion not as a brand, but as a body, a history, and a visitor and former patient of that very place. These viewers are not consuming spectacle; they are witnessing continuity. They know the fighter as a person, and I suppose, it is the same for the inhabitants of the seaside town.

For them, Joo Jaekyung’s presence is not abstract. It is personal. They are watching because of him, not because of the event itself. The dragon is not just a celebrity for them, but someone who once occupied the same space they do now. This shifts the interpretive frame entirely. They are not primed to receive hype or promotional narrative. They are primed to notice discontinuity—moments where what is said no longer matches what they know of the body, the risk, and the cost.

The moderator speaks as if he is guiding interpretation. (chapter 87) But live broadcast does not guarantee interpretive obedience. It only guarantees exposure. For the inhabitants and patients of the hospice, authority does not circulate through the microphone. It circulates through familiarity. They have no relationship with the moderator—no shared past, no shared vulnerability. With the champion, they do. His words carry weight precisely because they are grounded in recognition, not mediation. When he speaks, he is not framing the event for them; he is interrupting the frame itself. That’s why I believe not “motherfucker” will catch their attention, rather the other statement “playing dirty”. (chapter 87)

The Champion’s Speech as Refusal of Explanation

This is where the champion’s response becomes decisive—not because of what it clarifies, but because of what it refuses to clarify. (chapter 87) Contrary to the moderator’s method, Joo Jaekyung does not explain. He does not narrate. He does not contextualize. He speaks about a stunt. A trick. He names the existence of manipulation without supplying its mechanism.

This is not accidental. It is the inverse of commentary logic. Where the moderator’s role is to tell viewers how to see what just happened, the champion’s declaration does the opposite: it destabilizes perception. It introduces doubt without closure. It forces questions instead of answers. The speech functions less as accusation than as riddle. Let’s not forget that for that tie which was turned into a defeat, many people were involved: the MFC security guards, the intervention of doctors, the corruption of the jury, referee and moderator and the switched spray (its fabrication…).

This is precisely what the moderator and MFC did not anticipate.

Had the champion named the trick explicitly—had he described the spray (chapter 69) , the switching, the method—the institution could have responded. Clarifications could be issued. Liability could be managed. But by speaking elliptically, by pointing to manipulation without anatomizing it, the champion places the burden of interpretation onto the audience. And MFC can not deny the existence of an incident in the locker room.

And that audience includes people who already trust the main lead, his strength and his selflessness. (chapter 62) They are not close enough to trust the system blindly.

Why This Speech Is Dangerous to the System

For viewers in the seaside town, the declaration invites curiosity. For hospice patients, it resonates with lived vulnerability. For Hwang Byungchul, it can also activate memory (chapter 87) — of past matches, past compromises, past blindness. He is not being told what to think. He is being prompted to remember the suspension which he thought, his pupil deserved. (chapter 57)

This is the opposite of what moderation is designed to do. The moderator attempts to redirect attention toward Baek Junmin and the future. (chapter 87) There will be a match soon. The champion pulls it backward, toward unresolved causality. The moderator offers a spectacle that can be consumed. The champion offers a fracture that must be examined.

This is why the subsequent apology for profanity is so revealing. It is the only response available. Language has slipped beyond containment, so the institution retreats to formality. Civility replaces substance. That way, the athlete can be criticized for his language. He doesn’t appear as refined or proper. The reality is that he portrayed Baek Junmin as a cheater.

The Larger Diversion at Work

Seen in this light, the behavior of the CEO and the woman in red becomes legible. By foregrounding the incident in the States (chapter 69), by allowing attention to cluster around foreign misconduct (chapter 69) and public embarrassment (chapter 69), they redirect scrutiny away from the quieter, more actionable crime: the switched spray and the rigging of the game. Scandal abroad is survivable. Manipulation at home is not.

The champion’s speech threatens this balance. Not because it exposes everything, but because it exposes enough. (chapter 87) It disrupts the economy of managed ignorance. It creates a situation in which silence no longer stabilizes meaning. The incident is no longer buried, it is gradually coming to the surface,

The moderator was not asking two harmless questions. In reality, he was offering a script. And for the first time, the champion declined to read from it. Hence he insulted the actual champion.(chapter 87)

The Most Dangerous Word

The danger is not the profanity. It is what the profanity makes available.

When Joo Jaekyung says (chapter 87), he is not losing control. He is actually speaking on doc Dan’s behalf, as he has long recognized how the incident with the switched spray affected his lover. Hence he had pushed for further investigation later. He is more than just refusing the moderator’s script and naming his opponent directly, outside institutional mediation. The word does not function as an insult alone; it functions as a key.

Once spoken on live broadcast, it authorizes a shift in narrative terrain—from the fight to the past.

In a system that already treats Joo Jaekyung as a celebrity rather than an athlete (for more read my analysis “The Secrets Behind The Floors “], language is no longer evaluated for meaning but for usability. The insult “motherfucker” becomes extractable evidence. It invites biography. Not training history, but origins.

Raised by a single father who was not only violent, but also a drug-addict, a gambler and a mobster. Police records. (chapter 74) Early incidents reframed as character. Let’s not forget that he was stigmatized as a thug by the members from Team Black too. (chapter 47) Nothing new needs to be invented. Only reassembled. They know about the dragon’s past, because they brought Baek Junmin, someone who resented the celebrity for his wealth and fame.

This is how reputations are dismantled without contradiction. A scandal could finish his career, thus the manager silenced the incident with Choi Heesung’s fake injury. (chapter 31) The system does not deny the champion’s words ; it reclassifies them. What was a refusal of manipulation becomes “anger issues.” What was naming becomes “acting out.”

The word “motherfucker” is especially volatile because it summons the mother into the narrative. Her return—whether literal or discursive—does not need to accuse the champion. (chapter 72) It only needs to repeat an already accepted story: abandonment as necessity, violence as justification, disappearance as victimhood. A story the system knows how to circulate. And Hwang Byungchul never questioned her decision so far.

In that configuration, the champion’s speech is no longer debated. It is overwritten.

This is why the insult matters. Not because it is crude, but because it cannot be neutralized without reopening the past. The curse does not expose Joo Jaekyung. It gives the system permission to try. And this is the cost of refusing the script. However, what the schemers fail to recognize is that the champion is no longer influenced by the past and his origins. He received his absolution from the director Hwang Byungchul: (chapter 78) Secondly, Kim Dan is now able to distinguish the past from the present. Finally, thanks to doc Dan (chapter 62), he did so many good deeds in the seaside town that the inhabitants and the patients from the hospice won’t accept such accusations. I believe that such people won’t see “motherfucker” as a problem at all, they will rather see it as a part of his role after the match. What will remain in their mind is rather the accusation and riddle he voiced: the stunt Baek Junmin played.

CSPP and the Economy of Broadcast

What ultimately exposes the fragility of the system in episode 87 is not the champion’s aggression, but the infrastructure that was supposed to absorb it. The live broadcast does not merely transmit the fight; it reorganizes responsibility. And this is where CSPP becomes impossible to ignore. (chapter

CSPP is not presented as a television channel. The fight in the States was explicitly sold on PPV (chapter 87), which already tells us that CSPP does not function as a simple broadcaster. My idea is that CSPP operates as an intermediary apparatus: a company that packages events, sells broadcasting rights, coordinates visibility, and transforms violence into consumable spectacle. In other words, CSPP does not show fights; it produces events. This explicates why CSPP was present right from the start (chapter 14), but barely visible. But the moment it caught my attention in Paris, I realized that its increasing visibility displays the success of MFC as company. Observe that when the champion faced Randy Booker, the weight-in took place on the same day than the fight and in the arena, not at a prestigious hotel like in Paris. Here, the champion held a conference many days before the weight-in, and the latter took place the night before the match with Arnaud Gabriel. Secondly, you can observe the success of MFC through the banners. In Busan, the website of MFC was posed in the background next to CSPP. (chapter 14) In Seoul, when the star faced his old rival, there is no website on the banner (chapter 50), only MFC and CSPP. But in Paris, it is now totally different. (chapter 87) Thanks to CSPP, I noticed Joo Jaekyung’s true role. He is the one who made MMA fighting and MFC so popular! He is a trendsetter. He is indeed making history! And since CSPP and MFC are strongly connected to each other, it implies that CSPP as an organization is earning more and more money as well.

This is consistent with how the logo appears gradually in the narrative. In Paris, CSPP is omnipresent in the cage (chapter 87), on the banner, and on the stage and probably in promotional material , yet remains narratively undefined. That absence is not accidental. CSPP functions precisely where definition would impose accountability. It sits between MFC, sponsors, pharmaceutical interests (chapter 48), and distribution platforms, insulating each layer from direct responsibility. If something goes wrong, blame can always be displaced sideways.

CSPP and the Architecture of Visibility

CSPP enters the narrative quietly, but never innocently. Its function is not to comment on fights, nor to judge them. According to my observations and deductions, CSPP controls something more fundamental: when, how, and for whom events become visible. It is not a television channel. It does not merely broadcast. It packages, licenses, and distributes attention. And this becomes clear once we follow the timing.

Early revelations about Joo Jaekyung—his injury (chapter 35), his suspension (chapter 52), the causes for his defeat —usually surface in the evening or late at night (chapter 54). They circulate when attention is thin, fragmented, and easily exhausted. These disclosures are technically public, yet functionally muted. They exist without witnesses who can gather, discuss, or respond collectively.

As MMA gains popularity within the story, this pattern shifts. News about Joo Jaekyung begins to appear during the day. (chapter 57) (chapter 70) His matches are scheduled at hours accessible even to a Korean hospital (chapter 41) or hospice patients. (chapter 87) This is not coincidence. The schedule itself signals that Joo Jaekyung has become a ratings anchor—a figure around whom time is organized. He is no longer merely an athlete; he structures attention. Seen in this light, the late-night scheduling of the Korean rookie’s fight (chapter 71) becomes intelligible. It is not a mark of anticipation, but of expendability. The match is placed where attention is thinnest, where failure or success carries minimal consequence. By contrast, Joo Jaekyung’s fights are positioned to be seen. The asymmetry exposes how dependent MFC’s visibility economy is on him—not as a competitor, but as the primary organizer of audience attention.

This is precisely when CSPP becomes more visible.

CSPP’s logos multiply as control becomes more precarious. Its presence in the cage, on banners, and in broadcast framing (stage) increases not because it is expanding, but because it needs to be seen owning the frame. Visibility here is defensive. The more unstable meaning becomes, the more insistently CSPP marks the space as regulated, licensed, and sanctioned.

The contrast with Baek Junmin is instructive. His early fights are difficult to trace. Kim Dan cannot find information online. (chapter 47) His presence circulates through curated highlights and controlled conference footage rather than open broadcast. (chapter 47) His rise is engineered through selective visibility. (chapter 47) Weak opponents are chosen. (chapter 47) His image is inflated before he ever faces Joo Jaekyung. CSPP does not need to expose him fully; it needs only to prepare recognition. However, CSPP is an official company, they can not control rumors among fighters. (chapter 47) Thus the manager suggested this to his boss just before: (chapter 46) By mentioning the existence of spies, he incited the main lead to keep his distance from the doctor and the members so that the rumors about the underground fighting wouldn’t reach his ears.

This explains the asymmetry in scheduling as well. When defeat is anticipated for Joo Jaekyung—Busan (chapter 14), the United States, Paris—the fights are placed in high-visibility slots. Loss must be witnessed. Decline must be shared. By contrast, the fight between Baek Junmin and Joo Jaekyung takes place in the morning (chapter 49), a time of dispersed attention, private viewing, and reduced collective response. Visibility is not maximized; it is managed. (chapter 49) CSPP’s role, then, is not neutral mediation. It is temporal governance. It decides when exposure becomes dangerous and when it becomes profitable. It does not silence events; it times them.

This also clarifies why Baek Junmin’s championship appears so late, almost as an afterthought. (chapter 77) Once Joo Jaekyung does not contest the loss of his title—once he does not sue, demand more investigation, or interrupt the administrative process— MFC and CSPP no longer need to justify anything. Delay becomes normalization. Silence becomes confirmation.

What CSPP ultimately sells is not fights, but legitimacy through circulation. As long as conflicts remain within the frame of scheduled events (chapter 87), licensed images, and mediated commentary, the system holds. But the moment violence spills into spaces CSPP cannot package—off-camera, unsanctioned, criminal—the entire structure becomes vulnerable.

This is why Baek Junmin’s trajectory (chapter 87) is dangerous not only for MFC, but for CSPP itself. If his connections to the underworld surface, CSPP is no longer a distributor of sport, but a conduit for illicit spectacle. Contracts dissolve not because violence occurred, but because violence escaped framing.

CSPP thrives on controlled exposure. What it cannot survive is uncontrollable visibility. And by focusing on this aspect, it dawned on me that CSPP could have footage of the fight in Seoul. This distinction clarifies an earlier anomaly that otherwise remains unresolved: the Seoul fight.

Joo Jaekyung was injured, when he entered the scene. (chapter 49) Under normal medical protocol, this should have stopped the fight immediately. (chapter 41) No athlete should perform when injured. Yet MFC Medical remains silent, the staff simply treats the wound. The bout proceeds. Only later—after attention has shifted, after consequences have begun to circulate—does the same medical authority step forward to issue disciplinary sanctions and a suspension (chapter 52).

The reversal is telling. Medical authority here does not operate preventively, but retroactively. It does not protect the athlete at the moment of risk; it activates only once visibility becomes dangerous. This explains why a trick was played at the health center. It was to divert attention from their own complicity.

Seen through the logic of CSPP, this makes sense. If CSPP governs circulation, then footage of the Seoul fight does not disappear—it is archived. The problem is not the absence of evidence, but its containment. (chapter 52) There were cameras in the arena. What cannot be allowed to surface is proof of foreknowledge: that an injured athlete was permitted to fight under institutional supervision. Thus it raises the question if the match in the morning was broadcast on TV.

This explains the sudden relocation of scandal to the health center. By staging conflict there, the system launders responsibility. (chapter 52) Structural complicity is translated into an individualized incident. What occurred in the cage is no longer the issue; what occurred afterward becomes the narrative.

In this light, the suspension is not punishment. (chapter 52) It is a containment mechanism. It freezes exposure, recenters authority in bureaucratic procedure, and prevents uncontrolled questions from forming. CSPP’s role is not to deny visibility, but to delay and reroute it until meaning can be safely absorbed.

What emerges is not a conspiracy, but a pattern: intervention follows visibility, not injury. Authority responds to exposure, not to risk. CSPP is the mechanism that makes this inversion sustainable—until visibility escapes its frame.

What the system fails to recognize at this point is that the champion’s speech (chapter 87) and Baek Junmin’s reaction belong to the same event, even though they unfold in different spaces. (chapter 87) Joo Jaekyung speaks publicly, but sparingly. He does not explain. He does not accuse in detail. He names only enough to destabilize the frame: a “stunt,” “playing dirty,” a past match that no longer sits quietly in memory. His words are not designed to persuade; they are designed to unanswered. Joo Jaekyung doesn’t care about his rival’s opinion or innocence. The words remain unresolved. They enter broadcast time without closure.

CSPP and MFC attempt to absorb this rupture by doing what it always does: redirecting attention, normalizing tone, apologizing for profanity, and re-centering the narrative on rivalry and future spectacle. (chapter 87) From the perspective of the institution, the danger has been defused. The spotlight has been shifted back to Baek Junmin. The next fight is already being imagined.

But this is precisely where the miscalculation occurs. First, Baek Junmin hears something entirely different. What reaches him is not the insult, but the accusation. Not “motherfucker,” but “stunt.” (chapter 87) Not provocation, but exposure. This explains his reaction at the office. He destroys the television. And he does not prepare for a rematch, but for retaliation. But why is he so angry? He receives the words as theft. What reaches him is not the insult, but the suggestion that his victory—already fragile, already mediated—has been publicly reclassified. The words “stunt” and “playing dirty” do not accuse him in detail; they do something worse. They strip legitimacy. In his mind, he had finally achieved his goal: prove his superiority to Joo Jaekyung and live in the spotlight. (chapter 87) In a single sentence, the match is no longer remembered as a win, but as something tainted. He understands that the spotlight is no longer safe. Like mentioned before, he chooses to show his true self: a criminal. If the logic of broadcast begins to question tricks rather than celebrate rivalry, then CSPP becomes vulnerable. An underworld connection, once exposed, does not merely threaten a fighter; it threatens contracts, rights deals, and legitimacy.

This logic is not unprecedented. It echoes the historical trajectory of PRIDE Fighting Championships [which I had mentioned in a different essay Unsung Hero : Rescues in the Shadow], whose spectacular rise was inseparable from television exposure—and whose collapse followed once the connection between broadcast, organized crime, and event production could no longer be contained. In that case as well, violence was not the problem. What proved fatal was uncontrollable visibility. Once media circulation exposed what had previously been managed behind the scenes, legitimacy evaporated faster than contracts could protect it.

The parallel sharpens what is at stake in Jinx. MFC’s vulnerability does not lie in brutality, nor even in corruption, but in its dependence on televised containment. As long as speech, images, and outcomes remain governable, the system holds. Once television ceases to stabilize meaning—once it begins to expose rather than frame—power unravels from the inside.

Seen in this light, the danger is not that combat sports are violent, but that they are visible. And visibility, once it escapes its managers, has a history of collapsing institutions that believed spectacle would always protect them.

This is why CSPP and MFC become powerless in that moment. Thus the TV screen gets destroyed. CSPP and MFC can apologize for profanity, but it cannot erase the doubt now attached to Baek Junmin’s title, as the incident with the switched spray has been recognized by MFC and even treated by MFC medical. To conclude, the damage is semantic, not procedural.

The destruction of the television is therefore not rage at insult, but rage at loss of ownership over meaning. (chapter 87) Baek Junmin understands that what was taken from him is not a belt, but the story that made the belt matter. He has been repositioned—from winner to suspected cheater—without trial, without rebuttal, and without recourse.

From his perspective, the system has failed him. The apparatus that once guaranteed controlled visibility has allowed a sentence to circulate that cannot be neutralized. He has followed the rules of managed ascent, only to discover that a single, unscripted utterance can undo it.

This is the precise moment where institutional miscalculation becomes personal. And it is this perceived injustice—being robbed in full view—that makes Choi Gilseok’s permissive “by all means” possible. (chapter 87)

This is where CSPP’s position becomes the most precarious of all. If Baek Junmin’s ties to illegal fighting or organized crime surface publicly, CSPP is the first entity that cannot claim ignorance. It is the company that sold the event, packaged the narrative, and guaranteed its legitimacy. Unlike MFC, which can hide behind sport governance, or individual managers who can be scapegoated, CSPP’s value depends entirely on credibility. Once that credibility collapses, so do its partnerships.

Seen this way, Baek Junmin is not the mastermind of the schemes. He is their residual container. He absorbs the consequences of financial losses (chapter 46) that began elsewhere—losses already acknowledged when Choi Gilseok brought him into the system in the first place.

This is the deeper irony. The live broadcast was meant to neutralize confrontation by redirecting it. Instead, it amplifies instability. Words that were supposed to fuel hype begin to corrode trust. Visibility, once an asset, becomes a threat.

Conclusion: When Speech Breaks the Frame

The failure examined in this part does not lie in miscommunication, provocation, or loss of discipline. It lies in miscalculation. The system anticipates speech—but only as performance. It anticipates words that can be framed, apologized for, redirected, or folded back into rivalry and spectacle. What it does not anticipate are the consequences of speech once it escapes those circuits. The patients of Light of Hope and the inhabitants from the seaside town will definitely side with the athlete.

What happens, then, when speech is anticipated but not governable?

The fight provides the first answer. (chapter 87) Technique becomes language. Point accumulation, endurance, and delay reflect a world in which outcomes are meant to be evaluated rather than decided. Within this economy, decisiveness is a liability, and ambiguity is profitable. Joo Jaekyung’s refusal to prolong exchange—his choice to interrupt rather than circulate—marks the first rupture. The fight is no longer a prelude to speech; it becomes its proof. (chapter 87) The jinx that once rendered him powerless and speechless dissolves as he finds a language that cannot be scored.

The broadcast provides the second answer. (chapter 87) CSPP does not fail because it broadcasts the moment, but because it cannot contain what follows. Live transmission turns control into exposure. Apologies manage tone, not meaning. Scheduling governs attention, not interpretation. Once words enter circulation without mediation, images detach from their managers. Visibility ceases to stabilize power and begins to redistribute it.

The responses provide the final answer. Institutional calm persists. Procedures continue. But elsewhere, the effects are immediate and bodily. Baek Junmin experiences not insult, but dispossession. (chapter 87) His reaction reveals the asymmetry at the heart of the system: speech that appears harmless within spectacle can devastate outside it. A single unresolved sentence is enough to fracture legitimacy that took years to assemble. Neither MFC nor CSPP witness his outburst. Secondly, by grabbing the microphone, Joo Jaekyung is little by little taking control of the narrative, but more importantly he is choosing the timing! (chapter 87) So far, he only spoke in front of people during a conference or after a match. He could never choose the topic either. (chapter 30) This implies that he won’t remain passive and silent like in the past, relying on structure and institutions (Entertainment agency…) and accepting to become a scapegoat. (chapter 54)

Taken together, these moments show that power in Jinx does not collapse because truth is revealed. It destabilizes because meaning can no longer be timed, framed, or absorbed. (chapter 87) Once speech escapes governance, it does not clarify—it unsettles. It does not resolve conflict—it displaces it.

Part II has traced this shift step by step: from fight to broadcast, from mediation to rupture. What emerges is not the triumph of a voice, but the exposure of a system that depended on voices remaining manageable. Between a squeeze and a crack lies the instant when pressure stops circulating quietly and begins to alter the field itself. This is the moment when containment gives way to consequence—and when power, finally, has to reckon with what it can no longer control.

Feel free to comment. If you have any suggestion for topics or Manhwa, feel free to ask. If you enjoyed reading it, retweet it or push the button like. My Reddit-Instagram-Twitter-Tumblr account is: @bebebisous33. Thanks for reading and for the support, particularly, I would like to thank all the new followers and people recommending my blog.

Jinx: Between A Squeeze🫶 and A Crack 💢 -part 1

They Held Hands, But…

They held hands.
They held hands. (chapter 87)
They are so cute. 😍

This refrain summarizes much of the immediate reaction to the chapter. Attention clustered around the opening scene: the quiet morning moment in which the champion squeezes the doctor’s hand after asking for luck. (chapter 87) The intimacy of the gesture (chapter 87), its tenderness, and its symbolic weight were widely commented on—sometimes to the exclusion of almost everything else.

In the aftermath of the chapter, the author Mingwa herself remarked on this reception. On X, she noted—half amused, half ironic—that although Baek Junmin appeared (chapter 87) and an entire match took place, readers were largely talking about the introduction alone. 그나저나 이번화 나름 ㅂㅈㅁ도 나오고 경기도 했는데 다들 맨앞 도입부만 얘기하셔서 너무나 커엽군요,, (손잡았어 웅성웅성) Mimicking the collective reaction with a playful “They held hands!”, she described this selective focus as 커엽군요—not reproachful, but gently teasing.

This imbalance is understandable. The preceding chapters centered predominantly on the main leads (chapter 84) and the progression of their relationship, attuning readers to intimacy (chapter 85), care, and emotional release. When the chapter opens with a tactile, reassuring gesture, it naturally confirms that reading mode. The squeeze feels like a culmination.

Yet the chapter does not end there. By focusing almost exclusively on that moment, readers risk overlooking the significance of the final scene (chapter 87), where a very different gesture unfolds. (chapter 87) There, Baek Junmin rejects restraint, pushes away guidance, and verbalizes a resolve shaped not by trust or release, but by anger and revenge. (chapter 87) This closing moment is not incidental; it is placed in deliberate contrast to the opening.

The chapter is structured around these two gestures. One dissolves a belief rooted in ritual and control, the champion’s jinx. The other inaugurates a trajectory driven by wounded pride and escalation. Read together, they form a single movement—one that unfolds between a squeeze (chapter 87) and a crack (chapter 87).

Between a Squeeze and a Crack: Two Gestures, Two Logics

The chapter is structured around two gestures that appear simple, almost inconspicuous, yet articulate two radically different ways of relating to control, desire, and action.

One is a squeeze of the hand. (chapter 87) The other is the crushing of glass underfoot. (chapter 87) Between them unfolds a decisive split. The squeeze is not an act of domination. It is measured, contained, and reciprocal —an act of protection. The champion’s hand does not merely touch the physical therapist’s; it covers it. (chapter 87) The gesture encloses rather than exposes, shielding the other instead of pressing down on him. Force is present, but it is regulated and oriented toward care. The champion does not grasp to hold on longer than necessary; he squeezes, then stops. The gesture culminates in a line that matters far more than it seems at first glance: “That’ll do.” (chapter 87) This sentence marks a limit. It is not indifference, but acceptance. The champion has just registered the doctor’s surprise (chapter 87) — the slight jolt, the hesitation—and he responds by stopping. The restraint is not automatic; it is chosen. He does not ask for more reassurance, more certainty, or more support, even though he clearly desires it. Instead, he recognizes sufficiency.

What unfolds here is a careful negotiation between selfishness and selflessness. (chapter 87) The gesture still serves his need—he seeks strength, grounding, and reassurance—but it refuses to extract more than the other can freely give. (chapter 87) He allows himself to receive without insisting, to take comfort without turning it into a demand. Let’s not forget that after the tap, doc Dan had already started moving his hand away, though his fingers were brushing slightly his. (chapter 87) So the doctor’s support was indeed limited in time. So the stop of the champion ‘s squeeze (chapter 87) is therefore not a withdrawal, but an ethical adjustment: the moment at which desire acknowledges the other’s boundary and accepts it as final.

In that sense, the squeeze does not prove generosity; it proves restraint. It shows a willingness to carry what remains unmet rather than convert it into pressure. This is why the gesture concludes where it does. Not because the need disappears, but because it is no longer permitted to override respect.

In doing so, he abandons the logic that previously governed him—the belief that repetition, ritual, or escalation could secure an outcome. He would have sex, until his partners passed out. (chapter 33) Humbleness here (chapter 87) is not merely the expression of modesty, but the conscious recognition of limits: the willingness to accept uncertainty without compensating for it through excess, and the refusal to impose oneself on another. The gesture exposes a desire for respect toward Kim Dan; the champion knows his shyness and calibrates his touch accordingly, stopping before closeness turns into coercion. (chapter 87) The hand, as an instrument, reinforces this meaning. It reaches horizontally toward another human being. It creates proximity, connection, and grounding. (chapter 87) Nothing mediates the gesture. There is no object, no talisman, no substitute. Meaning is produced entirely through contact.

The final gesture operates according to the opposite logic. (chapter 87) The foot does not protect; it exposes. It descends vertically, asserting weight rather than relation. Where the hand encloses, the foot bares. The glass shatters under pressure, turning reflection into sharpness. What was once a surface becomes a source of wounds. It does not regulate force but releases it. Where the hand stops (chapter 87), the foot escalates. (chapter 87) The glass shatters, not to restore anything, but to discharge tension. This is not violence directed at a person, yet it is unmistakably expressive. It replaces connection with spectacle and containment with excess. Unlike the squeeze, the crack does not conclude itself. It invites continuation. The gesture is driven not by sufficiency, but by the refusal of “enough.” Here, greed is not merely material; it is existential. It manifests as the desire for the last word, total vindication, and unrestrained agency.

The contrast extends beyond movement into atmosphere. (chapter 87) The opening scene unfolds in a space that feels inhabited and shared, composed in softer shades that emphasize stillness and presence. The final scene is colder, darker, sharper. (chapter 87) Motion replaces quiet. An object enters the frame, absorbing force and redirecting it away from human contact. Where the first scene restores continuity—between bodies, between effort and outcome, between present and future (chapter 87) —the second collapses time inward. Baek Junmin does not act toward what is coming; he reacts toward what has already been. His violence is not exploratory but recursive. (chapter 87) It invokes the past as a template, attempting to reinstate an earlier hierarchy in which domination was secure and uncontested.

The gesture is therefore not simply destructive, but regressive. By striking, he tries to repeat a former position—acting like he wasn’t my gopher back in the day—as if the present could be coerced into mirroring that memory. This is why moderation is impossible. Repetition does not recognize limits; it demands reenactment. What breaks under this logic cannot be repaired because it was never oriented toward the future in the first place. It leaves only fragments—evidence of an attempt to overwrite change rather than accommodate it.

What ultimately sharpens the contrast between the two gestures is not only the difference between hand (chapter 87) and foot (chapter 87), but the difference between human presence and object substitution. In the opening scene, meaning emerges exclusively between two people. Nothing stands in for the other; nothing absorbs the gesture on their behalf. The squeeze requires mutual presence and ends precisely because it is shared. Its limit is ethical as much as physical. The final gesture unfolds in the absence of such reciprocity. Baek Junmin does not direct his force toward another human being, but toward an object. This displacement is not incidental. The object absorbs what no one else does. It becomes the recipient of rage, humiliation, and wounded pride. In doing so, it exposes a fundamental loneliness. Violence no longer seeks recognition from another person; it settles for impact.

The object in question matters. The Shotgun does not destroy a random item, but a television screen (chapter 87)—the very surface on which images circulate, words are fixed, and visibility is regulated. The screen does not reveal truth; it organizes perception. It is where victories are staged, reputations stabilized (chapter 46), and statements acquire permanence through broadcast. (chapter 87)

By turning on the screen, The Shotgun does not challenge the system itself (chapter 87); he reacts to what it has already done to him. What breaks is not the logic of spectacle, but his ability to endure exposure. The screen cracks, yet remains standing. This first rupture interrupts the image, but not its effect. The words spoken through it persist. They cannot be retracted, reframed, or silenced after the fact.

Thus he strikes again. (chapter 87) Using the ashtray, the “demon” shatters the screen into debris. At this point, the object has already lost its function. The broadcast is long over; the image is long gone. Yet the violence continues. He steps forward and crushes the remaining black shards underfoot (chapter 87), as if determined to annihilate even the remainder. The escalation exceeds necessity. It is no longer about disabling a device, but about confronting something that refuses to disappear.

This escalation becomes even more revealing when read against the opening sequence of the chapter. The three acts of destruction mirror, in distorted form, the three steps through which closeness was established earlier. In the morning scene, proximity unfolds gradually and remains contingent on consent: first the whisper (chapter 87), then the pause; then Kim Dan’s tentative tap (chapter 87); finally the squeeze (chapter 87), held only until it must stop. Each step waits for response. (chapter 87) Each movement depends on acknowledgment. The sequence concludes because it recognizes a limit.

At the office of director Choi Gilseok (chapter 87), the same tripartite structure is emptied of reciprocity. The first strike cracks the surface. The second shatters it into debris. The third crushes what remains. Where the opening scene pauses, this one accelerates. Where the whisper waits, the blow overrides. Where the squeeze ends itself, the violence repeats because it cannot conclude. The symmetry is formal, but the logic is inverted: one sequence builds relation through restraint; the other pursues erasure through excess. (chapter 87) In the latter, escalation is uninterrupted. At no point does Director Choi Gilseok intervene. He does not place a hand on Baek Junmin’s shoulder again, does not issue a command, does not impose a limit. (chapter 87) Whether he has already left the room or chooses deliberate avoidance is ultimately secondary. What matters is the absence itself.

That absence exposes a failure of containment. Authority is present in name, but not in function. Choi Gilseok cannot—or will not—stop his fighter. His invisibility transforms into passivity and complicity, not because he endorses the violence, but because he allows it to proceed unchecked. Power here no longer circulates through guidance or control; it dissolves into abdication. Yet this abdication is not uniform. It is selective.

Earlier in the narrative, Director Choi reacts strongly when his authority is verbally challenged. (chapter 49) When Joo Jaekyung addresses him with open disrespect, the breach of seniority provokes immediate outrage. (chapter 49) Intervention follows quickly. The insult is not tolerated (chapter 49) because it threatens hierarchy itself. Choi’s anger is genuine in that moment and it reveals what he truly guards: status, order, and the visibility of respect.

In contrast, Baek Junmin’s behavior provokes no such response. He brushes past instructions (chapter 87), slaps away physical restraint (chapter 87), and continues escalating without repercussion (chapter 87). The difference is telling. Where Choi once asserted authority to defend rank, he now withdraws it in the face of volatility. Baek’s aggression does not offend hierarchy in the same way; instead, it destabilizes it. And Choi does not confront destabilization. He avoids it.

A final irony sharpens this configuration of power. Neither Choi Gilseok nor Baek Junmin is aware of the protagonist’s true rank. (chapter 78) Both continue to perceive Joo Jaekyung as nothing more than a fighter (chapter 87) —talented, profitable, but ultimately subordinate. (chapter 87) This assumption governs how they speak to him, how they threaten him (chapter 49), and how they imagine their leverage over him.

Yet this perception is false. Joo Jaekyung is not merely an athlete within the system; he occupies the same structural level as those who presume to manage him. He is the owner of Team Black. His position aligns not with fighters, but with directors. The irony lies in the fact that the system itself enables this misrecognition. Authority is not distributed according to legal ownership, but according to visibility and habit.

This is already visible earlier, when the “hyung” attends directors’ meetings on the champion’s behalf. (chapter 46) His presence creates a convenient fiction: those around the table come to believe that he is the owner, or at least the one who truly governs the gym. Joo Jaekyung’s absence is interpreted not as autonomy, but as immaturity or dependence. Authority, once again, attaches itself to performance rather than reality.

The warning issued by the gym’s leadership makes this distortion explicit. (chapter 46) Even after boundaries are formally stated, Park Namwook continues to rely on seniority to address the champion (chapter 46) as if he were a child or an employee—someone to be corrected, instructed, and disciplined. The warning does not alter behavior because it does not challenge the underlying assumption: that Joo Jaekyung’s place is below them.

This misreading has consequences. Because Choi Gilseok and Baek Junmin both believe they are dealing with a fighter who must answer to managers, coaches, and institutions, they overestimate their capacity to contain him. They imagine leverage where there is none. They threaten exposure, punishment, and exclusion—tools that function only if the target depends on the system for legitimacy.

What they fail to see is that Joo Jaekyung no longer does. He doesn’t care about his image after challenging Baek Junmin. (chapter 87)

But let’s return our attention to the scene at the gym office. (chapter 87) This asymmetry exposes the limits of Choi Gilseok’s power. His authority functions only when obedience is already plausible. It depends on recognition rather than enforcement. When faced with a figure who neither seeks approval nor acknowledges restraint, Choi’s authority collapses into silence. The absence of intervention is not neutrality; it is an admission of impotence.

In that sense, Baek Junmin is not merely uncontrolled — he is uncontrollable within the existing structure. Choi’s refusal or inability to intervene reveals that the hierarchy he enforces is performative, not structural. It governs appearances and etiquette, not escalation or consequence. What remains once those appearances are ignored is not authority, but avoidance.

This is why Choi’s passivity matters narratively. By failing to stop Baek, he becomes an accomplice to excess without ever authorizing it. He does not direct violence, but he creates the conditions under which it can proceed. Power, here, does not flow downward or circulate relationally; it evaporates at the moment it is most needed.

In this sense, Baek Junmin is not merely acting out of rage. (chapter 87) He is acting in a vacuum created by institutional withdrawal. Thus the thug starts talking to himself loudly. This is not a dialogue, but a monologue. It was, as if he was trying to reassure himself about his power and connection. The director’s inability to regulate his “star” mirrors the waves in the last panel. An ocean can not be contained or restrained. In addition, his lack of restrain reflects the broader collapse of moderation within this economy. Where restraint once required oversight, its absence permits excess to define the relationship. What unfolds is not rebellion against authority, but the revelation that authority was already hollow.

This repetition is revealing. Each act answers the same stimulus, yet fails to neutralize it. The destruction does not bring release because the provocation was never material. The television has already fulfilled its role; the words spoken live cannot be undone. (chapter 87) What Baek attempts to destroy is not the object, but what it represents: the irreversibility of public speech, the collapse of secrecy, the loss of narrative control.

The black glass fragments make this failure visible. (chapter 87) They do not restore darkness; they scatter it across the floor. The act does not erase visibility but multiplies its traces into debris. This is not a cleansing destruction. It is an attempt at erasure that arrives too late, producing residue instead of resolution.

Seen in light of Baek Junmin’s habitual reliance on whispers (chapter 49), handshakes, and private humiliation (chapter 49), the gesture becomes clearer still. He is accustomed to violence without witnesses, to domination shielded by proximity and secrecy. He was always the man in the shadow. The live broadcast deprives him of that refuge. (chapter 87) For the first time, he is confronted with words that circulate beyond his control.

Both sequences (chapter 87) also unfold under the sign of privacy. (chapter 87) Nothing from either scene is leaked to the audience within the story. No cameras intrude on the morning room; no spectators witness the destruction that follows. In both cases, what happens remains offstage, contained within enclosed spaces.

Yet the function of privacy differs radically. In the opening scene, privacy protects vulnerability. It creates a space in which hesitation, consent, and restraint can exist without performance. The absence of witnesses allows closeness to remain unexploited and unrecorded. Privacy here is not concealment, but care. (chapter 87)

The destruction scene also takes place out of view, but for the opposite reason. Privacy no longer shelters vulnerability; it shields waste. Hence the thug used an ashtray to damage the TV screen. The object exposes the truth about this gym: it is just a cover for thugs. Additionally, the ashtray allows violence to escalate without immediate consequence, to repeat without interruption. What is hidden is not intimacy, but loss of control. The same absence of witnesses that preserves dignity in one scene enables denial in the other. This parallel sharpens the contrast further. Privacy is not neutral. It amplifies what already governs the gesture. Where restraint is present, privacy sustains it. Where limits have collapsed, privacy becomes an accomplice.

What surfaces here (chapter 87) is not pure aggression, but fear. Rage functions as its mask. The insistence, the repetition, the overkill all point to an inability to tolerate being seen, named, and fixed in public space. Crushing the screen is not an assertion of power, but a response to exposure—a desperate attempt to silence what can no longer be taken back. (chapter 87) He is announcing a shift of identity.

Up to this point, Baek Junmin still oscillated between two positions: the shadow fighter (chapter 74) seeking legitimacy, and the underground enforcer shaped by violence, order and debts (chapter 47). The broken screen already signaled that he no longer cares about how he is seen. (chapter 87) This line confirms what replaces that concern. He is ready to be seen as he is, without mediation, without justification. Leaving the shadow does not mean entering the light. It means abandoning concealment.

What he exposes are not hidden virtues, but true colors. The phrase is not a threat designed to intimidate an opponent into caution; it is a declaration of readiness to abandon restraint. He no longer intends to pass as a disciplined athlete governed by rules, training, or institutional limits. He is prepared to act as a bully and criminal —someone for whom violence is not a means within a system, but an identity in itself.

This is why the line follows the destruction of the screen so closely. (chapter 87) Once image no longer matters, there is nothing left to protect. Reputation, legitimacy, and future standing cease to function as brakes. What remains is the body and its capacity to harm. The statement therefore does not project confidence about the outcome of a match; it projects indifference toward consequences. In that sense, Baek Junmin is not stepping out of the shadows to claim recognition. He is stepping out to remove the mask. The system demanded that he appear controlled, profitable, and presentable. (chapter 47) By rejecting visibility and embracing excess, he also rejects the last requirement that tied him to that system.

What he is ready to expose is not truth, but himself.

Just as importantly, the damaged object does not belong to him. (chapter 87) Baek Junmin does not need to clean the mess, replace the screen, or account for the damage. He can afford indifference because responsibility is externalized. This is where materialism enters the gesture. (chapter 87) In his logic, what is destroyed can be replaced—by money, by compensation, by someone else’s labor. The gesture therefore carries no sense of loss. It is pure discharge. Where the hand-holding scene ends in sufficiency (chapter 87), this act ends in non-attachment. That non-attachment is not freedom; it is dispossession. Because nothing belongs to him, nothing binds him. The violence does not commit him to consequence. He does not have to stay, repair, or answer. (chapter 87) The object takes the blow and disappears from relevance, just as people do in his worldview once they cease to be useful or respectful. This is why the destruction feels so pronounced. It is not driven by concern for outcome. Baek Junmin does not care whether the screen works afterward, just as he does not yet care how events unfold. What matters is the act itself—the assertion that he can still act, still impact, still dominate a space that otherwise refuses him recognition. Under this new light, it becomes palpable that Baek Junmin’s resent and rage represent a liability to Choi Gilseok and his backers, the pharmaceutical company. (chapter 48) And their collaboration is founded on money laundering!! The shooting star is in reality (chapter 47) a meteor bringing calamity, once it lands on the Earth. Baek Junmin is about to face “reality” very soon.

Placed next to the opening scene, this contrast becomes stark. (chapter 87) There is no money, no power… between them. One gesture creates meaning because it acknowledges another human and accepts limitation. The other destroys an object precisely because no human is there to receive the force. One restores continuity; the other exposes isolation. Between them, the chapter reveals not only two trajectories, but two economies of value: one grounded in presence, the other in replacement.

Two pairs, two economies of power

What ultimately distinguishes the two dynamics is not intimacy versus violence, but how power is situated and what it depends on. In one case, power emerges through limitation; in the other, it is sought through displacement. The difference is not emotional, but structural. In the morning scene, power does not circulate vertically, but it also does not dissolve into symmetry. What changes is not the existence of power, but its source.

When the champion leans in and whispers, (chapter 87), he is not performing vulnerability for reassurance, nor delegating responsibility. He is explicitly naming Kim Dan as his source of energy. This matters. In earlier chapters, strength was something to be extracted through action—through sex, repetition, or coercive certainty (Chapter 2). Here, strength is no longer something he takes. It is something he receives. (chapter 87)

This is not a weakening admission. It is a reorientation. The champion does not ask Kim Dan to guarantee victory, to protect him from loss, or to secure the outcome. He asks for presence. What sustains him is no longer a ritualized act performed on another body, but the continued existence of a relationship in which he is accepted despite his flaws. (chapter 87) Kim Dan sleeping openly, showing his face, remaining there without fear—this is read by the champion as tacit trust. That trust becomes energy. In other words, this scene serves as the positive reflection of the argument in the locker room: (chapter 51)

The jinx (chapter 87) collapses precisely here. The old belief system operated on compensation: anxiety required action; uncertainty demanded escalation. Sex functioned as a mechanism to overwrite doubt. In this scene, no such mechanism is activated. The chapter makes this shift legible through space. When the champion rises from the bed, his movement is shown in full: he steps away from Kim Dan and crosses the room. (chapter 87) Yet he does not open the brown door. There is no pause at the threshold, no transition panel suggesting entry into another enclosed space. Instead, the next frame places him directly in the living area of the suite. The cut is continuous, not elliptical.

This matters because the brown door cannot be the suite’s entrance. (chapter 87) We have already seen the entrance elsewhere, and its placement does not align with this angle or proximity to the bed. Within the logic of a hotel suite, the remaining option is functional rather than transitional: the bathroom. In earlier chapters, that space was explicitly associated with ritual (chapter 75) —showering, cologne, self-regulation before a match. Here, that sequence is conspicuously absent.

The absence is not neutral. Mingwa does not show him choosing another ritual; she shows him skipping one. (chapter 87) No water, no mirror, no scent. The champion moves forward without cleansing, without recalibration, without the preparatory gestures that once framed his readiness. The bathroom—previously a site of purification and self-conditioning—remains closed, unused, and irrelevant.

What replaces it is not another ritual, but continuity. He enters the shared living space already grounded. The confidence he carries does not come from resetting himself, but from what has already occurred. Kim Dan’s presence, his sleep, the unguarded exposure of his face—all of this has already done the work that ritual once performed. There is nothing left to correct, neutralize, or overwrite. To conclude, this omission is not accidental. By abandoning the shower-and-cologne ritual, the champion abandons the idea that he must transform himself to be worthy of victory or public acceptance. He no longer needs to sanitize desire, image, or fear. What sustains him has already been secured before the match begins: recognition without conditions.

Power, then, is not extracted from superstition, domination, or bodily expenditure. It is grounded in continuity. Kim Dan’s presence does not ensure success, but it makes uncertainty bearable. That is the decisive shift. The champion no longer acts to silence fear; he acts while carrying it. And because he no longer believes that ritual determines outcome, he can later speak freely on live television. He is now confident, as he feels supported by doc Dan. (chapter 87) The profanity is not recklessness—it is evidence that image management has lost its hold. The champion does not stop caring about how he is seen; he narrows the field of recognition. Public perception no longer governs him (chapter 87) because it no longer defines his worth. What matters now is not the crowd, the broadcast, or the institution—but the single person whose presence already secured his sense of legitimacy before the match began. Thus after the match, he asked for the physical therapist’s approval and recognition: (chapter 87)

In short, the whisper does not mark dependence, but emancipation. (chapter 87) By replacing “I must do something” with “you are here,” the champion exits the economy of compulsion and enters an economy of trust. Victory will still matter—but it no longer needs to be purchased in advance.

The dynamic surrounding Baek Junmin operates differently. His position has always depended on external validation—rankings, victories (chapter 69), recognition, and above all visibility. Yet this visibility is curiously incomplete. Despite his victory, Baek Junmin is not immediately present as a public figure. He appears as a result (chapter 52) —his name, his win—but not yet as a narrative subject.

Only later, in episode 77 (chapter 77) does the story formally reveal his identity as champion. Until that moment, he remains strangely undefined, as if held back from full exposure. This delay is not incidental. It reflects a controlled form of recognition: Baek Junmin is allowed to win, but not yet to be seen. It already exposes that his success or victory is not clean. (chapter 87)

In this sense, the former underground fighter has not disappeared, but been contained. His past is not erased; it is suspended. (chapter 47) Visibility is granted selectively, not as self-expression, but as an institutional function. He exists within the system, but not yet fully in the public gaze. Even when violence or illegality intervenes, it does so in service of legitimacy. Until now, Baek Junmin has relied on the legal system (chapter 69) to carry him forward: sanctioned fights, official narratives, public status. Crimes may occur along the way, but they remain hidden, delegated, or absorbed by others. Power, for him, is something that must appear legitimate, even when it is not.

The destruction of the screen marks the point where this arrangement begins to fracture. (chapter 87) The legal economy no longer guarantees dominance. Public speech escapes control. (chapter 87) Visibility becomes a threat rather than a resource. In response, Baek does not retreat; he escalates. What we witness is not yet a full turn toward the underground, but the precondition for it: the realization that legality no longer secures power. (chapter 87) In this moment, Baek Junmin is no longer speaking as an athlete anticipating a rematch, nor as a rival operating within institutional rules. The phrasing “He has no idea who he’s messing with” does not refer to skill, ranking, or preparation. It signals a different register of power altogether—one that lies outside competition and beyond merit.

The threat is deliberately vague. He does not name a tactic, a plan, or a legitimate advantage. Instead, he invokes reach. The implication is relational rather than athletic: access, leverage, intermediaries. Power here is imagined as something that can be mobilized indirectly, through others, rather than exercised personally. This is where the “angel of death” reading becomes relevant—not as a literal figure, but as a symbolic posture. Baek frames himself as someone whose influence does not require visibility or accountability. Risk is no longer borne by the speaker. It is transferred, outsourced, or enforced through an unnamed elsewhere. Violence becomes atmospheric rather than explicit.

This is where the contrast between the two pairs sharpens. One trajectory exits the economy of compensation—the belief that force, ritual, or excess can neutralize uncertainty. The other moves toward a system where uncertainty is resolved through coercion rather than consent. One abandons the jinx by accepting risk. The other approaches a space where risk is relegated, outsourced, or enforced.

What separates them, then, is not morality, but dependency. The champion no longer depends on systems that promise control. Baek Junmin still does—and when that promise fails, the search for power does not stop. It changes terrain. Up to this point, Baek Junmin’s power has been structurally protected rather than personally secured. His victories, rankings, and public status were carried forward by the legal economy of the sport, even as acts of sabotage or coercion occurred in its margins. Crucially, this system did not require his full awareness to function. Violence was absorbed, displaced, or misattributed by intermediaries, allowing legitimacy to remain intact on the surface. Baek benefited from this arrangement without having to own it. Authority appeared lawful, outcomes appeared earned, and responsibility flowed elsewhere.

That arrangement begins to collapse here. Once public speech escapes control and visibility can no longer be managed retroactively, legality stops functioning as insulation. What follows is not yet a plunge into the underground, but the moment where reliance on institutional protection becomes untenable—and the search for power must change terrain. (chapter 87) Strangely, the director of King of MMA has just assured him his full support (chapter 87), but this was not enough for the “demon”. What the “new champion” failed to realize is that gaining the champion belt didn’t mean the end of his achievement. The reality was and is that he would be challenged constantly. Even when crimes are committed around him (chapter 50), they remain structurally hidden, absorbed by intermediaries, or misattributed. (chapter 69) Violence is laundered through legitimacy. The system continues to present him as a contender, even as it quietly tolerates sabotage and manipulation. Importantly, Baek Junmin does not need to know every detail for this economy to function; it protects him by design.

The scene in chapter 87 marks the moment where this economy begins to fail him. Public speech, live broadcast, and irreversible visibility introduce a variable that cannot be managed retroactively. Unlike clandestine acts or whispered humiliations, what is said on air cannot be displaced, denied, or quietly corrected. The legal system does not offer erasure; it offers record.

This is where the alternative economy becomes legible. Underground fighting (chapter 47), illegal gambling, and criminal enforcement operate on a different logic: outcomes are secured not through recognition, but through coercion and tricks; not through visibility, but through fear and secrecy; not through procedure, but through immediacy. There, a defeat is more like a death sentence. (chapter 47) Where the legal economy requires patience and exposure, the illicit one promises certainty and silence.

By contrast, the champion’s gesture in the opening scene binds him more firmly to the legal economy precisely because it accepts uncertainty. Redistributed power cannot be weaponized quickly. It resists conversion into domination. That resistance is what dissolves the jinx—and what makes the two trajectories incompatible.

This is how mediation works in that relationship. Kim Dan’s presence does not absorb excess; it sets a limit that is respected. Joo Jaekyung does not outsource control. He exercises it on himself.

The dynamic between Choi Gilseok and Baek Junmin operates according to a different economy. Formally, theirs is a boss–employee relationship. (chapter 52) In practice, hierarchy barely functions. Authority exists without discipline, protection without accountability. Baek Junmin is not positioned among other fighters, nor anchored in a collective. Thus he is not truly celebrated at the restaurant after the tie. Thus the fighters mentioned the director Choi Gilseok’s financial success or the odd behavior of Joo JAekyung. (chapter 52) Besides, he watches the match alone (chapter 87), from the director’s office—at the center of power, yet fundamentally isolated. This spatial detail matters. It signals both exclusion and entitlement. He does not belong, but he feels authorized to occupy the space.

When Choi Gilseok touches Baek Junmin’s shoulder, the gesture is corrective. (chapter 87) It is meant to halt escalation, to reassert moderation, to momentarily reintroduce limits. Baek’s response is immediate: he slaps the hand away. (chapter 87) This rejection is not rebellion in the classical sense. He is not trying to overthrow authority; he is refusing mediation. In his mind, limits no longer apply to him. He has been granted license without ownership. It was, as if the championship belt had freed the fighter from social norms and laws. Shortly after, “By all means” (chapter 87) removes the brakes while leaving responsibility elsewhere. It sounds like a free pass for the “criminal” in the end.

The final scene also marks the quiet dissolution of the association between Choi Gilseok and Baek Junmin. Although the director speaks in the plural—“we will use all means necessary”—the scene itself contradicts that claim. Spatially, Choi remains behind Baek, positioned as if backing him, yet excluded from his line of sight. The demon does not turn toward him, does not respond to him, and does not share affect or intent. The “we” exists only rhetorically. In practice, the scene contains only two figures: Baek Junmin and his imagined adversary. The director is already irrelevant.

This staging contrasts sharply with the earlier locker-room confrontation between Joo Jaekyung and Kim Dan, (chapter 51) where proximity forced acknowledgment and power was renegotiated face-to-face. (chapter 51) In the office, no such negotiation occurs. (chapter 87) Baek Junmin’s refusal is not confrontational; it is dismissive. (chapter 87) He does not reject authority—he bypasses it. The champion belt appears to function, in his mind, as a form of exemption: a signal that dependence, seniority, and mediation no longer apply. Whether this belief is justified remains open. What matters is that Baek Junmin acts as if it were. In doing so, he exits not only a partnership, but the structure that once contained him.

Placed side by side, the two pairs reveal two economies of power. In one, influence circulates through presence, restraint, and mutual risk. In the other, power is maintained through delegation, insulation, and the removal of limits. One dynamic produces responsibility by accepting vulnerability. The other produces entitlement by severing accountability.

This is why the outcomes diverge so sharply. Where one relationship closes a cycle of superstition and control, the other opens a trajectory of escalation and downfall. Not because one side loves and the other hates, but because one accepts limits—and the other has been told there are none.

Feel free to comment. If you have any suggestion for topics or Manhwa, feel free to ask. If you enjoyed reading it, retweet it or push the button like. My Reddit-Instagram-Twitter-Tumblr account is: @bebebisous33. Thanks for reading and for the support, particularly, I would like to thank all the new followers and people recommending my blog.

Painter Of The Night: Dropped amusement 😞

I have to admit that when I read chapter 126 for the first time, I was disappointed. Why? It is because Yoon Seungho appeared so stupid and weak. He kept running from one place (chapter 126) to another (chapter 126). He allowed his father to humiliate and abuse him (Chapter 126) once again. It was, as if the story was back to square one and the protagonist had learned nothing at all. Under this perception, my avid readers can comprehend why I selected such a title. However, instead of thinking that the author was a bad writer, I decided to ponder on the following question. Why did the author choose such an evolution?

1. The fools in love

First, since it is Baek Na-Kyum’s destiny to go through the same experiences than his loved one, I deduce that the main lead is now following Baek Na-Kyum’s path. In other words, they are switching their fate. This explicates why the lord is naïve, blinded by his love for the painter. Yes, Yoon Seungho is a fool in love too. (chapter 7) Like Baek Na-Kyum, he rushed to his loved one’s side. However, he was first stopped (chapter 126), because it was not the right time. How so? Notice that his brother had fetched him at the port (chapter 125), but he never followed him to the bureau of investigation. And the same happened later. Why didn’t he go to his shed, when he was trapped there? Where was he, when the eldest son visited the father? (chapter 126) His absence exposed his passivity and betrayal. However, at no moment, Yoon Seungho noticed this. To conclude, Yoon Seungho was so worried for the painter that he didn’t pay attention to his surroundings, just like the painter didn’t see the learned sir’s disdain expressed through the cold gaze. (chapter 07) Therefore Yoon Seungho didn’t notice the presence of a civilian next to the governor. (chapter 126). Striking is that the governor knew about Yoon Seungho’s whereabouts before his arrival: the coast. As you can see, I am detecting a link between the governor and the younger master Seungwon. Yet, it was disguised as a rumor behind the expression “I had heard”. My assumption is that Seungwon came from the bureau of investigation in order to inform his brother. Therefore it is not surprising that Seungho was invited by his brother to visit the prison during the night. (chapter 126) And the moment I perceived the protagonist as a fool in love, I realized that chapter 126 is a reflection of episode 7, 29 (chapter 29) and 40 (chapter 40). Here, the painter was trying his best to protect Jung In-Hun’s interests (life, high position). Moreover, in episode 40, the painter had a dream, when he saw the announcement for the civil service examination. He smiled, for he was looking forward for the future. (chapter 40) And what have these episodes more in common? A betrayal, abandonment from a loved one and a paper (painting, poem). Hence I am more than ever convinced that the petition will resurface very soon and play a huge role in the downfall of the schemers and haters. Besides, chapter 40 represents the negative reflection of the conversation in the prison. (chapter 126) Though they are in a tough situation, Yoon Seungho is not leaving his side contrary to episode 40. (chapter 40) There is neither disdain nor mockery. The mentioned scenes are similar, for the present resembles the past. And this brings me to the second reason for the Webtoonist’s decision.

2. Past, present and future

It is because Byeonduck is now mixing the past with the present indicating that the future will be different. Let me elaborate my thoughts more precisely through the relationship between the protagonist and his father. First, when the incident with the stolen kiss was reported, (chapter 123), Yoon Chang-Hyeon considered Yoon Seungho as a human, for he employed the personal pronoun “he”. He was still his son. Then in episode 77, he judged him as a slave (chapter 77), hence he was submitted to the straw mat beating and was held captive. He even refused to send for a physician. (chapter 83) Here, the father is denying his humanity, he is just an animal. In their next confrontation, he describes him as a monster, hence he wished that he had never been born. (chapter 86) However, his words exposed that he was still viewing him as a living being. Therefore it is not surprising that he accepted lord Song’s request to order the murder of his son! In the gibang, he decided to no longer acknowledge Yoon Seungho as his son. (chapter 107) The tragedy is that the protagonist still viewed the Yoons as his family because of Yoon Seungwon, who keeps calling him “brother”. This explicates why Yoon Seungho sponsored his brother to have an official position. (chapter 115) Therefore it is not surprising that he followed Yoon Seungwon’s advice again. (chapter 120). He would bring the petition to his own father. This means that he is acting like the painter who listened to his noona Heena so well. (chapter 46) But now, Yoon Chang-Hyeon believes to have the petition. (chapter 125) This explicates why the patriarch is now calling the main lead “nothing”. (chapter 126) He is not even a thing. This means that he is actually discarding him. This explicates why he sent him to the shed. (chapter 126) It was, as if he had become a merchandise. Or we could say that the elder master had been using him as a tool, which he can now abandon. (chapter 126) Interesting is that the idiom “plaything” has for antonyms tool, implement, instrument and utensil. And this brings me to the following remark. The father’s words are reflecting the last scheme. Yoon Seungho was used as the sword to get rid of an enemy, lord Song. It was, as if someone had decided to get rid of lord Song, for he represented a danger or threat. It also mirrors the trick in the shrine. Min and the others got killed, because Lee Jihwa went to his childhood friend. And who had seen the main lead using this sword, when he was enraged? Father Lee! (chapter 67) But let’s return our attention to the patriarch and his son. Yoon Seungho is no longer recognized as a Yoon member. Therefore I come to the conclusion that Yoon Seungho will make the following decision: to become an orphan. And this is symbolized by the loss of hair. I am expecting him to cut off his hair, something the painter has been doing for a long time. That’s why Byeonduck showed us the lord without a topknot. (chapter 126) This would coincide with my previous statement. The lord is going through the same experience than his loved one. However, people will come to the conclusion that this was done by the father. How so? Remember how each rumor became a reality. (chapter 1) I had already demonstrated that Yoon Seungho was not a fiend for sodomy with no regard for time and place, until he met Baek Na-Kyum. But once a deed is done, it can never be repeated. (chapter 101) So should Father Lee claim that he has long disowned Jihwa by cutting off his topknot, no one will believe him, for the young master was still seen with a topknot after confessing his feelings in public. (chapter 57) In other words, the topknot incident at the kisaeng would be brought up. It is impossible for 2 fathers to act the same way. Besides, the loss of the topknot has another signification: Yoon Seungho would cut off ties with valet Kim, for the latter was the one who gave him the topknot. And episode 126 reflected one more time his position: (chapter 126) He is the one dressing him. It was, as if he was the pope.

3. Abandoned plaything

Because of my initial disappointment, I examined the chapter more closely. This sentence from the patriarch caught my attention (chapter 126) Why would he call Baek Na-Kyum a “plaything”, when before he viewed him as a servant? (chapter 116) It is because someone had reported to him the conversation between lord Song and the painter. (chapter 122) There was a spy listening to their conversation. Since all the guards died (chapter 124) (chapter 125: I am assuming that the survivor got executed), I am suspecting the scholar. Moreover, why would Yoon Chang-Hyeon accuse his son to have abandoned Baek Na-Kyum? It is related to this departure of the staff and Yoon Seungho. (chapter 120) And who was present there? Jung In-Hun! But there is more to it. Since leaving Baek Na-Kyum behind is considered as an abandonment, it means that the patriarch abandoned his son too. (chapter 27) By speaking to Yoon Seungho, the elder master Yoon didn’t realize that he was admitting his own wrongdoings. Actually, he had abandoned him many times… like here for example (chapter 87) Therefore his words will come back to bite him. But these words are also exposing the valet’s betrayal and abandonment towards Yoon Seungho!! How so?

Where was he, when the protagonist was looking for Baek Na-Kyum? (chapter 125) Where was he, when the latter visited the patriarch’s home? Why did he only appear during the night? One might argue that he needed to wait the night in order not to be detected. But since Kim was supposed to be with Yoon Seungwon and the staff (chapter 122), then he should have been at the patriarch’s house. The absence of the valet is the evidence of his treason. For me, he is now working for Jung In-Hun which explains why he never mentioned his presence in the mansion, only lord Song. Besides, keep in mind that once deed done can not be repeated. In episode 27, the lord was too angry and busy to notice the learned sir’s spying activities. (Chapter 27) Moreover, Kim didn’t report the interrogation to his master. This means that the butler covered up for the teacher’s wrongdoing. But here is the deal: (chapter 120) The library was ransacked, hence this crime is bound to be discovered. Finally, his intervention in the shed is exposing his deception. (chapter 126) He could do something in the past! He entered the shed, and even brought him clothes. This stands in opposition to this scene: (chapter 83) That’s why I am convinced that these words (chapter 126) are reflecting the butler’s actions. He treated Yoon Seungho like a tool which he could use. In verity, he could have helped his master in the past by telling the truth!

Because my theory is that the lord was the king’s male kisaeng, the noble could utilize this principle against the monarch. Since he always left him behind, he just treated him like a plaything and not like a loved one and allowed others to use him.

4. The return of Yoon Seungho’s strength

Finally, I believe that Byeonduck had another reason to turn the table so that Yoon Seungho would appear as powerless. It is to outline his desire to live. (chapter 126) He is no longer suicidal, in fact he is full of hope! Though he was sent back to hell for a short moment, he came out of this as a winner. My evidence is that the lord has now become a believer. (chapter 126) Yes, episode 126 exposes the return of his faith! And where could we see the atheism of Yoon Seungho in the story? In chapter 92! (chapter 92) He didn’t believe in the spring poetry to ward off bad luck! That’s why he was sent back to the past. He needed to lose everything in order to find hope! In his darkest moment, he expressed a wish: to meet his loved one! And where did he pray to the gods? In the shed! (chapter 126) Observe how he is kneeling in direction of the bars. He is hoping to meet Baek Na-Kyum again. As you can see, though this scene (chapter 126) seems to be a repetition from the past, (chapter 83) it is not! The reality is that in episode 83, Yoon Seungho had lost all hope. This explains why he showed only resignation in front of his father. (chapter 83) However, the Painter Of The Night-philes certainly could observe how he had reacted, when he was put down by the guards. (chapter 126) He was showing resistance and anger towards his father. Moreover, he was no longer shaking in front of the patriarch or the guards. (chapter 86) Thus I deduce that though he was mistreated and insulted like in the past, he was no longer suffering from his traumas. He is healed. His will is now really strong, supported by his new found faith.

Under this new light, it becomes comprehensible why Yoon Seungho sent the painter to the shed after the so-called desertion! (chapter 62) Even if they were hugging, they were not close emotionally and mentally. This stands in opposition to the scene in the jail. They might be separated by the bars, but they are touching each other tenderly. (chapter 126) They are able to see each other.

What to Do When You Feel You Are Losing Your Faith

Acknowledge and Accept What You Feel (…) (chapter 126) Try Meditation (chapter 126) or Prayer (chapter 126)

Count Your Blessings (chapter 126)

Talk It Out

Spend Time With Loved Ones (chapter 126)

Consider Counseling

Take a Break

Take The Time to Reflect (chapter 126) Quoted from https://www.verywellmind.com/losing-faith-definition-suggestions-and-take-away-5214137

As you can detect, Yoon Seungho did everything to revive his faith. He didn’t listen to his father’s words in the end. He chose love over hatred. He might be a sinner, but he is no longer self-destructive. But more importantly, he went to jail while carrying the light. (chapter 126) It is relevant, because light represents knowledge and truth. He is now the bearer of the truth. And he got his blessing from Baek Na-Kyum, when he touched his hands. (chapter 126) Because he came with the candle, Kim had no reason to follow him. In other words, Yoon Seungho no longer needs the butler by his side. But why didn’t the domestic follow him to the prison cell? It is because he feared that if the painter were to see him, his memory could get triggered. The artist could ask him where he was, when the scholar came to the mansion? (chapter 120) Yes, chapter 126 mirrors 92! This somehow confirms my theory that the butler was the one hiding under the purple hanbok. (chapter 92) Moreover, we have another reference to this episode, the pouring of alcohol! (chapter 92) (chapter 126) It was, as if someone wanted the lord to pay for Min’s insult! That’s the reason why I come to the following conclusion: Yoon Seungho is now opening up to Baek Na-Kyum. He is confessing to the painter about his wishes. (chapter 126) Therefore I am suspecting that the lord will reveal his past to his loved one, something he never did before. (chapter 85) The manhwaphiles should keep in mind that the request from the artist in the study was strongly connected to forgiveness. And Baek Na-Kyum could also confess what happened in the past: his guilt and regret asking for the lord’s forgiveness. Right now, both are blaming themselves for the incidents, although they got fooled by many schemers. Because the lord proved his loyalty and blinded trust in the painter, I see the scene in the jail as a new version of this confession: (chapter 75) Thus I consider the prison cell as a sacred place, where both characters are about to be freed from their guilt! (chapter 126) That’s the reason why now I view the lord’s short torment as a necessity. His faith was and is tested through the trials which coincides with the upcoming trial. Through his love for the painter, he found support and strength. He is not resigned, though their situation looks terrible. He is now true to himself. This means that he chose to drop his life lie for good.

And what was his life lie? To be powerful… (chapter 11) thus he could escape justice! (Chapter 11) Simultaneously, the first definition of life lie corresponds to Yoon Chang-Hyeon. The latter blames his eldest son for the downfall of the Yoons. ! (Chapter 86) Secondly, he still thinks that he is powerful. But it is just an illusion. (Chapter 126) How so? The guards are able to manipulate him. He has become their puppet, for he follows their suggestions. Hence they make decisions on their own (chapter 125). They fail their duty, for they allowed the main lead to barge in the room. (Chapter 126) Finally, observe how they keep apologizing without giving any explication. (Chapter 125) Their apology is fake. As you can see, the patriarch is living in an allusion. He is powerless, and the best evidence is that he doesn’t have the petition. (Chapter 125) He took the paper full of blood, the evidence of his involvement. This means that in this scene, (chapter 126) the elder master Yoon chose to maintain his life lie. This explains why he blames Yoon Seungho one more time. And this coincides with his speech about hatred. (Chapter 126) He is actually encouraging his son to hate himself and indirectly his own father! However, the son made the exact opposite decision: love!! Hence I am more than certain that the elder master is about to experience a harsh awakening.

On the other hand, the Manhwa lovers can grasp why I selected the title “dropped amusement”. Faith is something serious which stands in opposition to the gangrape in the shrine. Here, the lords had made fun of the spirits and gods. (chapter 101) Thus they got punished. And now, the two main leads are about to face human justice. (chapter 65) But strangely, the painter is showing no fear at all. (chapter 126) He is ready to sacrifice himself. So why was Yoon Seungho dressed up in the end? One might say that with the topknot and the hanbok, the abuse from the patriarch got covered up. That way, Baek Na-Kyum wouldn’t detect Yoon Chang-Hyeon’s lies and abandonment! (chapter 125) The latter brainwashed him to take the fall for everything, implying that way, his loved one would be protected! However, I am suspecting that if the lord were to leave the prison, he could meet someone in the office. That way, this person is not confronted with the reality: the main lead was “abused”. According to the butler, he was supposed to meet his brother at the office. (chapter 126) If the noble encounters his brother there, then Seungwon would appear as hypocrite, for he would feign “ignorance”. He was not there, when he got insulted by their father. However, he could meet someone else. (Chapter 92) In episode 92, we have a mysterious man in the background dressed in black, but he is not wearing his gat. Besides, I would like my avid readers to remember this image from the trailer: which reminds us of the office: (chapter 98) This place symbolizes power and strength. And because episode 126 is a reflection of chapter 7, 11, 29 and 40, I think, Yoon Seungho is about to receive a deal, for these episodes are focusing on the deal between the painter and the protagonist: protection from the father and punishment in exchange for entertainment. He would appear as a fake savior in the end. Remember what in episode 11 the artist said in front of his fated partner: (chapter 11) He would do anything except painting!! He was not willing to give up on this principle, which reminds us of faith. So when Yoon Seungho faced his father, he experienced powerlessness for one reason. (Chapter 126) They wanted to corner him, to make him desperate so that he would look for a way to become powerful! Moreover, they desired him to resent his father more than before. To conclude, he was pressured on purpose. And this brings me to the following remark. Why did the father describe the painter as “Plaything”? It is to minimize Baek Na-Kyum’s value in the lord’s life. However, if this theory about a new deal comes true (pedophile rekindling with him), then I believe that exactly like in episode 11, the lord will choose to follow his conscience and integrity over power and torment. He will make the same decision than his partner which corresponds to a rejection. However, I don’t think that he would make it obvious. He could fake submission.

5. Quit smoking

In fact, I have the impression that his memory could get triggered. What caught my attention is the absence of the pipe! According to me, the pedophile is a smoker, that’s how the main lead started smoking. But so far, the lord was not seen in connection with the pipe in season 4. This tool appeared on this drawing making fun of officials and the king (Chapter 105) Then in episode 122, we discover that lord Song employed the pipe to beat the painter. Moreover, I detected a progression. In season 2, Yoon Seungho was still smoking. (Chapter 74) But once the painter showed that he didn’t like smoking, Yoon Seungho stopped taking the drug. This explicates why in season 3, he was no longer seen with the item in his hand. Even under stress, he chose to hunt instead of smoking in front of the window. We have two scenes where the pipe is present. One is when the lord is throwing it out of anger,: (chapter 86) which reminded me of the incident with the music box. (Chapter 85) This shows that this item had no value to the protagonist. Then the pipe appeared in the gibang on the table. (Chapter 96) However, here the lord had only eyes for the painter or Heena. Hence I have the impression that the pipe could resurface and serve as an tool to identify the perpetrator, just like the glasses were used to recognize the scholar. (Chapter 102) Finally, since the pipe appeared in the gibang twice, it indicates that this hobby is linked to the kisaeng house!! And this brings me to my final observation: the pipe is connected to paper (chapter 121), just like in the erotic book of sodomy! (Chapter 1) (chapter 1) However, there exists two books!! And one has no PIPE! This coincides with the decision of the painter to stop drawing erotic pictures! Yes… dropped amusement! At the same time, Yoon Seungho has long lost his interest for erotic publications. He also dropped this hobby. On the other hand, the books were dropped in front of the painter. (Chapter 1) Finally, the petition was dropped in front of lord Song (chapter 123) which announced his death sentence. To conclude, the papers have a strong connection to punishment and death.

As you could see, Byeonduck had many reasons to create such a chapter in the end. We are definitely getting closer to the end. And before closing this essay, I would like to point out that the Yoons’ mansion had been left empty, yet neither his father nor his brother moved in!! (Chapter 126) Yoon Seungho went to the father’s mansion, and it didn’t take him that long! As you can see, I consider this trip with Yoon Seungwon as a diversion. (Chapter 121) So why didn’t the elder master return to his old home? It is to drive the Yoons out of their propriety. In other words, the lies from the past are becoming a reality exposing the liars in the end. Their life lies will be ruined.

Feel free to comment. If you have any suggestion for topics or manhwas, feel free to ask. If you enjoyed reading it, retweet it or push the button like. My Reddit-Instagram-Tumblr-Twitter account is: @bebebisous33. Thanks for reading and for the support, particularly, I would like to thank all the new followers and people recommending my blog.

Painter Of The Night: The Heavenly Hearth ☄️🌈

1. Heaven and life

When many readers heard Yoon Seungho‘s statement (chapter 119), they got worried and nervous, as they considered the expression „as long as I live“ as a clue for a sad ending. Why? It is because the lord was referring to his own death. Under this light, it becomes comprehensible why I selected „heavenly“ in the title. I was naturally alluding to the afterlife. However, I perceived his words in a positive light. He expressed his desire to live. He is no longer suicidal, he wishes to live a long life next to the painter and treasure his moments with him. That’s the reason why the author included the refraction in the scene. A dream had come true, the lord was finally able to escape the darkness. (Chapter 119) He is now truly alive. This explicates either why he smiled and laughed at the end. But why was he so happy? It is because Baek Na-Kyum had just confessed that he loved him not for his wealth or power, but for himself. (Chapter 119) He even described him as a treasure. Yoon Seungho had finally achieved his goal: to win the painter’s heart. His presence and love bring happiness to Baek Na-Kyum which stands in opposition to his reputation as bird of misfortune. Moreover, this description contrasts so much to Jung In-Hun (Chapter 119) and Yoon Seungwon’s. (Chapter 118) where both portrayed the main lead as a man consumed by lust and revenge. In other words, he was presented as a huge sinner. This implies that he stands so far away from heaven. But all these words were erased the moment the painter confessed his love for Yoon Seungho once again. What Baek Na-Kyum didn’t realize is that his love confession is pushing the protagonist to fight for the painter. (Chapter 119) If something were to happen to him, the low-born would be heartbroken and miserable. Baek Na-Kyum is his reason to live. Thus I consider this scene as the positive reflection from that terrible night: (chapter 102) In episode 102, he was renouncing on everything (life, mansion, wealth and connection), because he imagined that the artist had died. Consequently, I deduce that in episode 119, the painter’s life is attached to the lord’s for good. If the artist got into trouble, Yoon Seungho would side with him and the reverse. Thereby, I come to the conclusion that this moment in the kitchen represents their union, as they are no longer tied to the mansion. They are now a family no matter where they are. Let’s not forget that the painter expressed his wish to run away with his lover. (Chapter 119) It is important, because such a departure symbolizes that the bird “Yoon Seungho” is leaving the nest. He is now starting a family on his own.

2. Food, offerings and faith

Striking is that heavenly can be employed in a different context food. Let’s not forget that food is often served as offering to gods and spirits. Interesting is that in Asian societies, it is a tradition to offer the favorite dishes on the anniversary of the relatives’ death. As you can imagine, this custom was already practiced in Joseon. And now, take a closer look at this scene.

Chapter 85

Yoon Chang-Hyeon was honoring his ancestors by bowing in front of the shrine. But what caught my attention is that in such an occasion, he should have brought food and his sons to such a ceremony. However, he just had lit incense (chapter 85) and put a glass and that was it. This exposes the father’s hypocrisy, ignorance and greed. By acting on his own, he was exposing his true mindset. He views himself as the family. The sons are just the extension of himself, for they are his reflections.

As a narcissist, the father projects all his flaws onto Yoon Seungho, hence he is his scapegoat. (Chapter 45) On the other hand, Yoon Seungwon is his golden child, for he represents his positive reflection.

This explicates why in the bedchamber, the patriarch called his son a monster (chapter 86), whereas he put the other on a pedestal (chapter 86). Thus I created this illustration. Under this new light, it becomes comprehensible why the father could only reject the offer from lord Song in the gibang. Doubting Yoon Seungwon’s sexuality meant to question about the father’s sexual orientation. At the same time, it is not surprising why the elder master would blame Yoon Seungho for everything, for he couldn’t admit his responsibility for the purge. Consequently, the Manhwaphiles can grasp why Yoon Chang-Hyeon came alone to the shrine. If he had brought Yoon Seungwon, the father would have been reminded of the elder son, as both can not be separated. This explicates why the younger master asked his elder brother to submit to his father. (Chapter 119) I couldn’t help myself smirking when the brother attempted to make him believe that. (Chapter 119) the protagonist could ever gain the father’s favor. Yoon Seungwon was definitely playing with his brother’s feelings, as if he could hope that their father would change.

At the same time, his position as golden child explicates why the younger brother resents the father and betrayed him: (Chapter 118) It is because as a golden child, he is also suffering, but it is naturally nothing compared to Yoon Seungho’s position who could have died. (Chapter 77)

Interesting is that psychologists said that it was easier for a scapegoat child to escape from this nightmare, as they can cut off ties more easily than the golden child who got used to special treatment. Moreover, the flaws from the patriarch rubbed off on Yoon Seungwon which often happens in such a toxic family. This signifies that for Yoon Seungwon, it is difficult to maintain good and healthy relationships in the end too. And now, you comprehend why the younger master made such a request to his brother. He needs him for two reasons. (Chapter 119) First, by returning the petition to the father, Yoon Seungho would become the culprit. He was not only a traitor, but also a blackmailer of the Yoons and lord Song. (Chapter 107), for he had stolen the petition. Yoon Seungwon would hide his wrongdoing, he betrayed their father. (Chapter 118) There is no doubt that Kim played a role in this as well. In other words, the brother and the valet would bury the truth by diverting the attention of the patriarch towards the main lead, if Yoon Seungho followed this suggestion. (Chapter 116) The elder master would no longer seek the truth, similar to the kidnapping in season 2 which was turned into a desertion and later Lee Jihwa’s abduction occulting the instigator and the helping hands. Simultaneously, Yoon Seungwon needs his brother as scapegoat, because the pressure coming from the patriarch and lord Song must have definitely increased. (Chapter 119) How ironic that Yoon Seungwon employed the expression “care to live”. Back then, the protagonist was just surviving, he had already developed suicidal tendencies, when this incident took place. (Chapter 83) This shows that the young master wants to sacrifice his brother once again. Out of selfishness and cowardice, he is trying to convince Yoon Seungho that this is the right thing to do! (Chapter 119) This is a new version of this scene! (Chapter 37) He is even implying that he needs to sacrifice himself in order to protect Baek Na-Kyum!! Moreover, he is distorting the reality, because he implies that his father is still powerful. (Chapter 119) However, the purge took definitely place, (chapter 37) like the memories from episode 37 are exposing it. It becomes clear that if Yoon Seungho returned the petition, he would die. (Chapter 116) Thus I come to the conclusion that the meeting between the brothers in the gibang represents an offering. For the Yoons’ sake, Yoon Seungho should admit his wrongdoings (Chapter 119) and beg for forgiveness. Thus I interpret the scene in the kitchen hearth as true hope (chapter 119) while the table with many dishes in the gibang stands for fake hope and offering. (Chapter 118) It was, as though Yoon Seungwon was giving his brother his last meal before his sacrifice. This situation exposes that in the past, the main lead had been put in a similar situation, covering up for the brother’s mistake. (Chapter 55) People had played with his hopes and longing for acceptance and recognition. Interesting is that offerings is a synonym for atonement and sacrifice. But why is Yoon Seungwon so sure that he can repeat the same action from the past? It is because Kim and Yoon Seungwon have known for a long time that Yoon Seungho was longing for acceptance and love from his family, just like the scholar knew about the painter’s love for him. (Chapter 119) But everything changed, when the painter met the lord. So who is worse here? Jung In-Hun who tried to rape the painter or Yoon Seungwon who is sentencing his elder brother to death? Let’s say that the valet convinced the younger master to suggest this solution, this doesn’t diminish Seungwon’s responsibility at all. He knows that his father abused his elder brother. In my opinion, he is copying his father, like the former tried to diminish the responsibility of the patriarch. (Chapter 119) Yoon Seungho got hurt because of lord Song and not because of Yoon Chang-Hyeon. This means that the younger master was denying the existence of the patriarch’s choice and the helping hands. And if the brother listened to his advise and the father hurt or killed the main lead afterwards, the younger master could put the blame on the elder master, for the decision and responsibility belonged to the patriarch. Moreover, he heard from lord Song that killing Yoon Seungho was just a matter of time. (Chapter 116) Fact is that the younger master is betraying his brother once again.

Yet, the former is making two huge mistakes. He is considering the painter as a servant (chapter 119), therefore he believes that the artist is tied to the mansion. Secondly, I am quite certain that his perception about the artist is influenced by Kim. This signifies that the latter is also projecting his own thoughts onto the painter, for he is himself a narcissist. The latter is interested in wealth and comfort. If he came to lose everything, he would abandon Yoon Seungho, that’s what Kim is envisaging. Thus if Yoon Seungho were to submit himself to the father, Baek Na-Kyum would lose everything. Besides, I am even thinking that Jung In-Hun’s approach in the gibang is also related to the brother and the butler. All of them had an interest to separate the couple! And note that when the lord went to the noonas’ room, it looked like the painter had deserted him. (Chapter 119) So technically, this situation could have triggered the protagonist’s insecurities like in season 1 (chapter 28), 2 (chapter 60) and 3 (chapter 98). However, through these constant exposures, Yoon Seungho came to learn not to jump to conclusions and to have faith in Baek Na-Kyum. He knew that he would return to the mansion. Hence he ran to the bedchamber first. (Chapter 119) Another important detail is that we don’t see any staff in the courtyard or in the kitchen. It was, as if the propriety had been deserted. (Chapter 119) This implies that at no moment, he relied on the domestics’ testimonies which contrasts to the following scenes: (chapter 98) (chapter 104) (chapter 107) and (chapter 116) However, observe that in episode 116, Yoon Seungho had witnessed how his lover had taken care of him, while he was unconscious. Furthermore, the petition had been handed over to the painter and not Kim, a sign that the artist had become the protagonist‘s confident. As you can see, as time passed on, the main protagonist learned the following lessons: he should stop relying on servants, he should only trust his partner. I would even add that he was taught the following principle: “If you want something done right, you have to do it yourself”. In my eyes, (chapter 119) the scene in the kitchen is exposing the betrayal from the staff, that’s the reason why we see no one! They were either expecting their lord’s return and imagined that he would be upset or even violent! At the same time, by not meeting the artist, the servants could feign ignorance about the lover’s whereabouts and claim their innocence. The proof is that this scene (chapter 119) is the positive reflection from that night: (Chapter 103) Here, they never expected the return of Yoon Seungho and the painter. The staff ‘s absence in episode 119 is the evidence of their desertion! Moreover, I consider Yoon Seungho’s search for his lover as a new version from episode 28/29/30: (chapter 28) Back then, they feigned ignorance, but they never anticipated a punishment from Yoon Seungho.

And this leads me to the following observation: Baek Na-Kyum’s action in the kitchen reminded me of an offering! (Chapter 119) Why? It is because he burned a paper. The evidence for this is the presence of the painter’s belongings. This is the place where he used to hide the scholar’s poem (chapter 4). Moreover, the painter is standing in front of the hearth which certainly triggered the manhwaphiles’s memory. Jung In-Hun was seen in front of the hearth burning the letter from Min in order to hide his involvement in the painter’s sexual abuse. (chapter 115) And now you are wondering how the painter’s gesture can be considered as an offering. It is because the kitchen hearth is considered as sacred due to the fire. First, in shamanism, there exists the god of fire named Jowangshin.

In China, people had a similar belief.

As you can see, the kitchen is a sacred place. This explicates why next to the hearth, people had to follow the following rules:

  1. Do not curse while in the hearth. (Chapter 115)

2. Do not sit on the hearth. (Chapter 59)

3. Do not place your feet on the hearth. (Chapter 98) (Chapter 115)

4. Maintain the cleanliness of the kitchen. (Chapter 47)

5. You may worship other deities in the kitchen. Quoted from https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jowangsin

That’s how I realized why Byeonduck mentioned that lord Min would help Yoon Seungho. Note that Jung In-Hun cursed lord Min (chapter 115), when he burned the letter! Moreover, let’s not forget Black Heart’s claim during that night: Lee Jihwa (chapter 102) who was a traitor, for he had tattled on Black Heart and his friends to Yoon Seungho. And now, you comprehend why I connected the shrine to the kitchen hearth. Both places are considered as sacred, for they are connected to gods and spirits.

3. Confessions and truth

And now it is time to return our attention to Yoon Chang-Hyeon. (Chapter 85) The absence of his sons and of food as offerings reveals that he was not showing true respect to his ancestors. He used religion and social norms to hide his true intentions. He wanted to take over the mansion. Hence the black guards were standing at the entrance of the sacred house. Their presence symbolizes violence. Therefore it is not surprising that the gods chose to punish the elder master through Yoon Seungho. The former was not received properly (chapter 86): no bow, no food and no seat. (Chapter 86) Let’s not forget that the elder master had entered the lord’s chambers without the permission of his owner. No wonder why he was left speechless. And now, you are wondering if I am not drifting away from the topic, as these chapters from season 3 don’t seem to be connected to episode 119. However, it is important to realize that these chapters have many common denominators

Chapter 85-86-87Chapter 119
Death Here, we could detect the suicidal tendencies of the protagonist. He wouldn’t fight back. Here, he wants to live and as such to fight back in order to protect his lover.
Coup d’Etat The seat looks like a throne.
Yoon Seungwon advises his brother to admit submission. It is like a surrendering.
The fire
Note the contrast. In the furnace, the fire was not properly lit. This explicates why the bedchamber didn’t get destroyed by the fire during that night.
The absence of the staff The courtyard is empty! No one is defending their master. No one is working in the kitchen.
A quarrel with a slap
Someone is out of breath
Treason
Threat
Sexual assault in the gibang
A sudden kiss
the importance of family
The indirect reference to religion (curse, heaven versus hell, faith/trust)
Wishes (ambition, dream)
Yoon Seungho portrayed as a depraved monster
An important paper/ document
Jung In-Hun Baek Na-Kyum not only wounded the learned sir, but also humiliated a person who passed the civil service examination. He is now a military official.
The painter’s escape He was supposed to remain in the study. Kim allowed him to leave the room. Baek Na-Kyum freed himself.

As you can see, the night from episode 85 to 87 corresponds to the day in chapter 119. And now, it is time to examine the meaning behind this connection. First, the contrast between these two scenes reinforces my interpretation about the butler. At the beginning of the noble‘s suffering, the valet was ignorant, just like the painter is still unaware of the nobles’ death. But it is no longer the case. In episode 85, (chapter 85) he had faked his breathlessness. First, he didn’t need to run from the kisaeng house like Yoon Seungho. The kitchen, the gate or the servants’ quarters are not far from the study. Besides, why did Kim run in the end, when he joined the study? Contrary to his master in episode 119, he knew about his master’s whereabouts, for they had taken their lunch there. (Chapter 85) The study is even close to the gate. (Chapter 51) He could have reached the study before the father entered the shrine. Finally, observe that the patriarch even arrived to the bedchamber before Yoon Seungho, (chapter 86) though the study is close to the host’s chamber. As you can see, paying attention to the location of the different rooms exposes the betrayal from the staff and especially from the butler. He had been listening to their conversation, hence he knew about their quarrel. Interesting is that in the kitchen, the lord’s wish got fulfilled. (Chapter 117) The painter wants to leave everything behind too. (Chapter 119) Thus I am deducing that the authorities will be involved very soon. (Chapter 86) Why? It is because someone desires to take over the mansion. (chapter 119) They are not expecting the lord‘s resistance, for he remained passive all this time (season 2 and 3). The scholar has now the means to do so, and the necessary motivation. Imagine that he got wounded and humiliated by the couple! Besides, we have this broken promise due to Yoon Seungwon (Chapter 115) exposing the younger master’s lies and Yoon Chang-Hyeon’s delusions. Without the protagonist’s help, the younger brother would not be „successful“. Furthermore, the absence of food and fire in episode 86 indicates that this house was neglected and even not protected. (Chapter 86) It explains why the argument between father and son oozed hatred, coldness and looked like war! The hearth symbolizes home, family, warmth, love and protection.

Under this light, it is no coincidence that this new confession took place in the kitchen. At the same time, the kitchen hearth symbolizes humbleness and honesty, which stands in opposition to the love confession in the kisaeng house. (Chapter 94) The gibang is connected to money, power, pleasure, artificiality, sensuality and lack of privacy. (Chapter 96) I am sure that you can detect all the contrasts (night, door close, spies, confession outside and inside, no fire, only light). Thus I am deducing that the painter’s words in the kitchen were not heard by others. As you can see, this scene in the kitchen is full of symbolism. In my previous essay “The true face of family”, I had already pointed out that sharing meals represented a criteria to define a real family. Therefore I had demonstrated that Yoon Seungho and Baek Na-Kyum were excluded from the mansion, for they wouldn’t eat their meals in the kitchen like the staff. (Chapter 17) Moreover, the hearth doesn’t just provide warmth, but also light! The latter embodies knowledge and as such Enlightenment. (Chapter 119) Hence they were clueless about the wrongdoings from the staff. Only in the kitchen, the lord could finally grasp the depth of Baek Na-Kyum’s love for him. It is an unconditional love contrary to Yoon Seungwon’s. The latter would only recognize him, if he listened to him. And he only seeks his assistance, when he needs him. It shows that Yoon Seungho is only approached, when he has power. (Chapter 118) (chapter 119) Moreover, because they are embracing each other in clothes, it exposes that their love is pure and not driven by lust. This scene contrasts so much to his meeting with his brother, for the latter never hugged him. He kept his distance from his brother. (Chapter 119) I would like to outline that during their conversation, Yoon Seungwon remained calm and indifferent, when he talked about the assassination attempt from Yoon Chang-Hyeon. (Chapter 116) But the biggest difference is the absence of fire in the kisaeng house. (Chapter 118) This reflects the lack of empathy from Yoon Seungwon.

Striking is that the couple stood at the entrance of the kitchen, when the painter declared his unconditional love to the noble. (chapter 119) It was, as if two worlds were meeting. Simultaneously, the door step symbolizes the gateway to new opportunities. In other words, it announces changes. Moreover, the embrace and the lord’s words expose that Yoon Seungho is focusing on the present moment and the future. This means that he is now moving on and as such cutting ties with the past! How ironic that Yoon Seungwon’s recommendations came true! (Chapter 118) Nonetheless, I doubt that he is including his brother and father in his future plans. For me, the noble’s words spoken in the bedchamber will become a reality: (chapter 78) Furthermore, he tried to leave before (Chapter 104) (chapter 105) Finally, we saw him in the courtyard standing next to a horse and a servant indicating that he had given him a task, and the latter needed to leave. (Chapter 108) Hence you comprehend why I am full of optimism in the end. Yoon Seungho has already made some preparations in my opinion. On the other hand, I am quite certain that their love will be tested. Can they face together trouble? Yes, because through their pain, they learned their lessons and changed.

4. The love confession in the kitchen

But why didn’t Yoon Seungho expect that he would be blessed next to the kitchen hearth? (Chapter 119) It is because in the past, he was never allowed to join the kitchen hearth. This place was either beneath him or he was not worthy of entering the place. Thus he employed the expression scullery boy to Yoon Seungho. (Chapter 47) Here, I would like to outline that when the protagonist was held in the shed, someone brought him food . (Chapter 83) That‘s how I realized that the shed is connected to the kitchen!

  • chapter 32: The maid had just brought water to the couple.
  • Chapter 51:
  • Chapter 61: During that night, Baek Na-Kyum had been held captive in a shed.
  • Chapter 77:
  • Chapter 108:

And what is the common denominator between these scenes? Kim was responsible for the kitchen and the shed. This observation brings me to the following conclusion. Then, you know why Yoon Seungho could never imagine that in the kitchen hearth, he would experience unconditional love. It is because the valet never allowed Yoon Seungho to enter the kitchen! And now take a closer look at this scene: (chapter 38) Yoon Seungho remained outside on the door step. Consequently, I started comparing scenes where the kitchen hearth appeared and that’s how I discovered a pattern:

  1. A wrongdoing and an argument (Chapter 46) (chapter 47) (Chapter 98) (Chapter 110)
  2. – An apology – forgiveness: (Chapter 77) (chapter 38) (chapter 59) (chapter 119)
  3. A confession (chapter 38) (chapter 47)(chapter 77) ( Chapter 110) (chapter 119)
  4. A fire or its absence: (chapter 47) (chapter 38) (chapter 110)

To sum up, the kitchen is connected to a wrongdoing, an apology, a confession, a fire and a quarrel. Where was Baek Na-Kyum during the abduction? In a shed, while Lee Jihwa was arguing with No-Name!! That’s how I realized that the gods wanted to teach Kim a lesson. In the past, the butler should have invited Yoon Seungho to the kitchen hearth so that he would have found a family among the staff. Remember how the servant scolded the valet, it is because Kim must have taken pride to be the elder master’s servant. (Chapter 77) For me, Kim must have looked down on the other domestics. I consider this scene as the best example what Kim should have done in the past. (Chapter 119) He should have brought him to the hearth and hugged him. That’s why Lee Jihwa got embraced during that night. Kim should have comforted him and made him smile! The father wouldn’t have noticed it, for there is a second entrance. The evidence is here:

(Chapter 119) (Chapter 98) One door leads to the backyard and the other to the smaller courtyard. And this scene confirms my previous assumption

The kitchen is detectable thanks to the big wooden door in the smaller courtyard. However, I am quite certain that there’s a second access to the kitchen. They need to have an easy access to the jars situated in the backyard close to the walls. (…) This means that from the kitchen, if you follow the wall, you can pass by the lord’s bedchamber. And if you follow this path, you will discover the pond with the pavilion. Quoted from https://bebebisous33analyses.com/2022/03/31/painter-of-the-night-a-guided-tour-of-yoon-seunghos-domain🏡/

This means that Kim could have done something in the past. (Chapter 87) Baek Na-Kyum is there to prove him wrong. He had other opportunities, like giving him a good meal. (Chapter 63) He should have sided with his master and even remained by his side. This signifies that this scene (chapter 83) exposes the butler’s betrayal and wrongdoing. Thus I conclude that the painter will show to the valet his cowardice and his treacherous nature.

(Chapter 119) So by burning the poem (chapter 7) the artist is not only cleansing the kitchen, but also cutting off ties with the scholar. The latter is no longer protected. The spirits will intervene through chance. As a conclusion, the hearth has a spiritual and healing power, for it is connected to „Heaven“. Yoon Seungho‘s paradise is to have a family.

Feel free to comment. If you have any suggestion for topics or manhwas, feel free to ask. If you enjoyed reading it, retweet it or push the button like. My Reddit-Instagram-Tumblr-Twitter account is: @bebebisous33. Thanks for reading and for the support, particularly, I would like to thank all the new followers and people recommending my blog.

A Poem A Day/Jinx/ Painter Of The Night: The true Face of Family 👨‍👨‍👦‍👦👨‍👩‍👧‍👦

1. A Poem A Day and Family

The trigger for this essay was the K-drama A Poem a Day which I was recently rewatching. You might not know this, but I created this blog because of my analyses about K-dramas. Funny is that through them, I discovered Manhwas. That’s how I ended up reading BL-Manhwas which became my new passion. However, during my summer vacation, I was feeling nostalgic and melancholic, thus I decided to watch this terrific story “A Poem A Day” again. Like the title is implying, the story is revolving around poetry. In each episode, they included poems which were reflecting the situation, emotions and thoughts of characters in the series. And that’s how I came across this beautiful and touching poetry

The woman on the right is Woo Bo-Young. She is the protagonist of A Poem A Day. She loves poetry, but she couldn’t study Korean literature because of her family situation.

The poem gives a very good definition of family. A real family is when people share their pain, attachment and happiness. This signifies that their members have no secret, they are allowed to cry in front of others. Interesting is that the blanket, a pars pro toto for the bed, is a metaphor for the embrace. This explicates why in this image, the characters are presented as a family, as they are hugging each other. The blanket represents warmth and protection. Interesting is that this vision is rejecting the notion that men shouldn’t cry (“Cry together”). It doesn’t matter who is weeping. And now, it is time to examine more closely how this poem was illustrated in A Poem A Day.

In episode 6, Woo Bo-Young was spending the evening with her mother and her half-brother, for she needed comfort from her mother. When she was very young, her father died and left not only a huge amount of debts, but also an illegitimate son. That’s how Bo-Young and her mother discovered the existence of an affair. Despite everything, the mother decided to adopt him as her son. Because he didn’t share blood with Bo-Young’s mother, the woman made sure that he wouldn’t feel burdened or excluded. Thus she showered him with love and understanding which sometimes made Bo-Young question who was the real relative in this family. Though this jealousy is totally normal, this scene exposes their mutual affection. Simultaneously, this scene also displays the slowly drifting apart between Bo-Young and her half-brother and mother as well. At the restaurant, she didn’t share all her worries and emotions to her family. She didn’t get the comfort she had hoped. In other words, this poetry exposes her growing maturity and as such her quest to find a loved one! Yes, by finding a partner, Bo-Young will start her own family. On the other hand, this poem reflects how these 3 became a family as well.

And this drifting away is also symbolized by the birthday’s party Bo-Young organized for Lee Min-Ho. His own family had totally forgotten about his birthday. So when Bo-Young saw Min-Ho alone, she brought him to a buffet and offered him a cake. At the same time, the poem exposes the abandonment and betrayal from Lee Min-Ho’s family. He might live in comfort (“a sweet and soft ice-cream”), but he never felt part of his own family, for the parents only had eyes for the elder son. Thus they were never present for important events in his life. In other words, he could never voice his pain or share his joy and pride with them. He only caught their attention, when he caused trouble.

What caught my attention is that Choi Bum Young made a difference between “we become a family” and “be a family”. For him, family is not symbolized by sharing the same blood. The verb “become” insinuates not only change, but also something alive. Living under the same roof is not a synonym for family either (“No matter where you are”). As you can see, the house is not the symbol of a family. This means that the poem was exposing the existence of fake and true family. Under this new perspective, you comprehend why I selected such a title: The true face of family. Besides, the lyricist outlines that family is associated with hard work and trust. A family is created, when people feel safe and loved, but for that to happen, the members must open up their heart and their mind. That’s the reason why trust and respect are so vital. At the same time, the Manhwaphiles can grasp why the poet included the notion of effort. The person has to overcome the barrier, the fears. Hence it is not surprising that Choi Bum Young included the notion of struggles. Once the trust is there, the “you” is able to help the other. A real family is, when people face problems together. Therefore it is not surprising that the poetry emphasized the notion of “sharing”. The members should divulge their emotions and thoughts! Striking is the recurrence of the personal pronoun “You” which outlines the responsibility of a member. One has to share his agony or happiness to others first, if he wants to have a family. As long as the person doesn’t open up, there is no family. One has to take the first step and the others will follow. This explicates why the personal pronoun “you” turns into a WE! Thus this poem implies that Lee Min-Ho was partially responsible for his own suffering as well. He never shared his resent to his brother and parents. He should have argued with them much sooner, yet he let things happen. To conclude, family is not just made of sunshine and rainbows, but of clashes and troubles. Hence discussion is not excluded at all. To conclude, family symbolizes responsibility, faith, affection, communication, support and cover! The family is represented by the personal pronoun “we”.

As you can imagine, the moment I read this poem, I couldn’t help myself connecting it to Painter Of The Night and Jinx. Thus I decided to utilize the poetry as foundation in order to define the families in the Manhwas. Moreover, we can detect the evolution of families or we could say the loss and birth of a family. And the criteria in order to define a real family would be the embrace, the weeping and its acceptance, sharing the same cover, meals, secrets and emotions.

2. Family in Painter Of The Night

2. 1. Baek Na-Kyum’s “families”

When Na-Kyum had this dream, he was remembering his own family. (chapter 87) Not only the painter and the 3 noonas were sharing the same bed, but also they were taking their meals together. (chapter 87) They would even caress each other and laugh together. This scene oozes happiness. Consequently, it is no coincidence that during that night, they shared their honest thoughts to Baek Na-Kyum giving him good advices. But more importantly, the painter was there, when his noonas were struggling. (chapter 94) He cried in front of them. His tears symbolized his compassion and love for his noonas. He regarded them as his family. And it was the same for the artist. He had the noonas by his side, when he was in trouble or agony. (chapter 94) (chapter 107) However, at some point, it changed! (chapter 94) Jung In-Hun entered his life and consoled him. Thus I deduce that this image (chapter 68) represents a turning point in Baek Na-Kyum’s life. During that night, the scholar took away the young painter from Heena, hence he couldn’t help her. And now, observe the learned sir’s reaction. He didn’t allow the painter to cry. He shouldn’t share his pain. (chapter 70) In fact, he diverted Baek Na-Kyum’s attention from the incident to the moon. The learned sir was smiling the whole time. (chapter 70) He was acting, as if nothing had happened. The fact that he didn’t bear the tears from the painter exposes that the learned sir never considered him as a family. Therefore it is not surprising that he got abandoned, when the learned sir struggled: (chapter 75) But we have other scenes where Jung In-Hun didn’t behave like in the poem. When he discovered the truth, he had not been approached by Yoon Seungho due to his talent (chapter 19), he pushed away the painter. (chapter 19) He was mad, because Baek Na-Kyum was the cause for his sponsoring. (chapter 19) However, the family serves as pillar and protection. When the scholar’s pride got hurt, he rejected Baek Na-Kyum. He only approached the painter, when he needed him (chapter 10) (chapter 24) (chapter 35). (chapter 111) For me, in episode 10, he was definitely aware of the existence of a plot, thus he led the painter to the pavilion. Then in episode 24 and 35, he wanted the artist to spy on his benefactor. Finally, in episode 111, he knew that by taking away his former pupil, he would hurt Yoon Seungho, for he was aware of his affection for Baek Na-Kyum. Under this new light, it becomes comprehensible why Jung In-Hun didn’t bid farewell to the main lead in episode 44. Baek Na-Kyum’s presence was not necessary for the preparation for the civil service examination. And this brings me to the last scene between the learned sir and the painter. (chapter 118) He is now crying in front of him, as if he was considering him as a part of his family. He is trying to create the illusion that he shares his suffering, just like he shared his happiness during the parade. (chapter 111) But in the gibang, the learned sir changed his attitude towards his former pupil, for he kissed the painter. (chapter 117) It was, as if the former was starting his family. Baek Na-Kyum is now his “bride”. But naturally, everything is just an illusion. Why? It is because the Manhwaphiles never saw Jung In-Hun share his bed or room with the artist! (chapter 27) (chapter 38) He was also never seen taking his meals with him. This explicates why he never visited him, when the painter was sick. In fact, the learned sir is connected to the air and the courtyard. That’s the reason why he is always seen roaming around with Baek Na-Kyum (10: pavilion, 18-19-27-35-44: courtyard, countryside/city: 29-37-70 and ) But more importantly, he is not sharing his true thoughts and emotions to the young man. (chapter 118) He never explained how his face got bruised! This shows that he approached Na-Kyum for one reason. He was in trouble and he needed him. But he acted, as if he was becoming responsible for him. (chapter 118) (chapter 118) He didn’t expect a rejection. Why? It is because now, he was treating the main lead as family member. Nonetheless, don‘t get me wrong. In Joseon, servants were considered as a part of the household and as such of the „family“. I don‘t believe that the teacher views Baek Na-Kyum as an equal. Yet, the latter is in reality a free man. (chapter 118) Thus out of fear, he made a false love confession which resembles a lot to obsession and possessiveness. His words display his worries and despair. Another important aspect is the absence of the personal pronoun “we” in their conversation. We only have “you” and “me”. (chapter 118) (chapter 118) There is no union. Because he didn’t take the protagonist’s feelings into consideration, this “seduction” was doomed to fail. Thus I deduce that when the learned sir trampled on Baek Na-Kyum’s heart and loyalty in the library, (chapter 40), the latter learned the following lesson: Jung In-Hun had never been his new family. That’s the reason why he was so wounded. Therefore it is no coincidence that his karma is to be abandoned the moment he needs Baek Na-Kyum the most. But why did he not consider the painter as a family member? It is because he came from the gibang. Moreover, he was blinded by his desire to succeed on his own, not realizing the true role of a family.

And this brings me back to Heena and the noonas. The moment Jung In-Hun meddled in the painter’s life, the relationship between the noonas and Baek Na-Kyum deteriorated! And this coincides to these nights: (chapter 86) (chapter 107) The sexual abuse is something they hid from Baek Na-Kyum! They could never share such a burden with the protagonist. But there is more to it. In fact, Byeonduck illustrated the slow deterioration of Na-Kyum’s s family in season 2, 3 and 4. First, the painter couldn’t talk to his noonas like in the past: (chapter 46) He was forbidden to announce his departure which indicates that Heena was hiding something from the other kisaengs. Moreover, notice that he never talked back to Heena. He listened to her, though he was in pain. (chapter 46) He could only express his sadness with his tears. Then when Heena reentered his life, she was seen next to his bed while hugging. by his side (chapter 66) This means that she would no longer share his cover. This is no coincidence that in the gibang, the noona could no longer enter her brother’s room. (chapter 96) Little by little, Heena got excluded from the painter’s life. She could no longer share her meals with him. (chapter 93) This explicates why in season 4, Baek Na-Kyum can not penetrate Heena’s room. (chapter 105) She is hiding more and more things from her brother: her “illness”, her involvement in the murder of nobles and her lies. On the other hand, the painter still considered her as a part of his family because of her intervention in episode 68/69: (chapter 68) Their argument was reflecting their trust, though here the kisaeng was questioning her brother’s maturity. Due to her concerns, Baek Na-Kyum felt that they were still a family. However, I sense a rupture, when they argued in the kisaeng house. The artist was no longer trusting Heena’s words: (chapter 97) Interesting is that from that moment on, Baek Na-Kyum and Heena never faced each other! She didn’t join his side during the parade. This means that their argument in the kisaeng house represents their last reunion. And what did Heena do in this scene? She cried (chapter 97), while the painter didn’t, though he looked disturbed. (chapter 97) He lost all his colors. However, such a scene could be perceived as a sign of indifference, especially for the kisaeng. And this observation made me realize why the kisaeng asked Yoon Seungho not to reveal his suspicions about Jung In-Hun’s involvement to her brother. (chapter 105) Here, she implied that Baek Na-Kyum would cry out of pain and shock. But she had seen that he had shared no tears, when he heard about his murder: And it happened again in the shrine. (chapter 99) Simultaneously, the request from Heena exposes that they are no longer sharing agony and as such struggles. Moreover, this made me realize why the artist left the mansion after the nightmare. It was out of fear and obligation. For me, he had sensed that Heena liked the learned sir and as she was still part of his family, he had to make sure that this was not true. Yet, even after witnessing the faked crime scene, he still trusted Yoon Seungho. Hence I am deducing that the absence of tears is the trigger for their separation which stands in opposition to their embrace in the mansion: (chapter 66) . (chapter 68) And what was her reaction, when she saw her brother in tears and yelling at his lover?: (chapter 105) She remained silent, passive and rather indifferent. This impression gets reinforced, when she is lying next to her colleagues. She is not sharing her thoughts and emotions, rather pensive contrary to these kisaengs: (chapter 105) She is even turning her back to them. This displays the dissolution of this family. The kisaeng is no longer sharing her fears, her tears and emotions to others. Therefore she can not sense “happiness or relief” like the others.

But the gradual alienation between the protagonist and his noonas becomes more perceptible in season 3. In episode 93, they could share their happiness (chapter 93), but the moment the lord joined his side, the honesty started vanishing. Notice that the painter couldn’t talk about his past (how he met Yoon Seungho and how he got abandoned by Jung In-Hun). It was reduced to “I was caught up with something”. He had so many secrets that he couldn’t share to his noonas. And it was the same for the kisaengs. (chapter 93) They also had secrets, hence they were seen whispering. Baek Na-Kyum could confide less to Heena. Why? He sensed that the kisaengs might show no understanding. And note how the painter reacted, when he met his noonas in episode 105. (chapter 105) He lied to his noona, he didn’t voice his worries. He didn’t enjoy his time spent by the kisaengs’ side. He didn’t eat with them either. This is the sign that he was moving on, he was on the verge of starting his new family. In other words, this scene (chapter 105) corresponds to the bird flying from the nest which was witnessed by Heena and the kisaengs. Because the painter was not sincere to his noonas, it is not surprising that they acted the same way. Here, (chapter 105), the kisaeng’s words are a reference to loss of virginity. Yet the painter didn’t grasp the true meaning. Only in his dream and nightmare, he realized the significance of her words: (chapter 109) Hence I come to the conclusion that we are witnessing to the birth of Baek Na-Kyum’s new family: Yoon Seungho. (chapter 118) That’s the reason why the painter decided to run away with his lover. (chapter 118) However, in order to become a real family, the painter needs to call his husband like this: (chapter 72) Under this new light, it becomes comprehensible why the noonas were no longer entirely honest with Baek Na-Kyum in the gibang. They couldn’t share their thoughts and secrets to the artist, as they had played a role in the separation of the couple (chapter 99) and the nobles’ execution. Besides, they also had secrets which they had to hide from their donsaeng.

2. 2. Yoon Seungho’s family

He never had a family to begin with. Why? First, the mother was neglecting him because of her hatred for her husband. This is what Byeonduck revealed. From my point of view, her detachment towards Yoon Seungho was linked to the first sexual experience and that her first son would resemble her husband. As for Yoon Chang-Hyeon, the father had definitely troubles with him. (chapter 57) I believe that it is related to the protagonist’s sensibility and intelligence. My assumption is that Yoon Seungho is a Highly Sensitive Person.

Therefore due to his particular personality, he could not share his thoughts and emotions to Yoon Chang-Hyeon and his brother, hence he expressed his emotions through painting. Moreover, due to his ambitious father, pranks were not well perceived. Therefore it is not surprising that he was forced to face adversity on his own, for he had no protection. Interesting is that Yoon Chang-Hyeon views the ancestors (chapter 85), his second son and even lord Song as his family (chapter 116) Hence they are sharing a drink, their secrets and emotions together, though it is obvious that the man in purple is deceiving the patriarch. However, the elder master still trusts and listens to his words. (chapter 107)

And what about Kim, the so-called faiithful butler? Was he not his surrogate father? It is the same. The latter never considered him as his family. Don’t forget what the butler said to the painter. (chapter 26) The latter was not allowed to cry! Therefore the artist heard the same reproach from the main lead. (chapter 26) The valet disliked the tears, because he refused to share the suffering. The reason is simple. If he did, this would have increased his guilt. Furthermore, Kim never shared the cover or his meals with Yoon Seungho in the past (chapter 83) and in the present. Here, (chapter 17) he even refused to bring him his breakfast. But one might argue that Kim cried in front of the protagonist in the shed, he even expressed regrets: (chapter 108) So we could assume that he was starting to view the main lead as a family member. But no… for me, it is just an illusion. First, note that he never let the lord see his gaze while weeping. Besides, the noble’s heart was not moved either. They were not crying together, a sign that the two were drifting apart. Moreover, in the shed, the valet never shared the information about the fire at the shrine. (chapter 108) The noble had to use threat and force in order to push the butler to voice his thoughts. Finally, at the end, the valet never vowed his loyalty to Yoon Seungho, but to Baek Na-Kyum. (chapter 108) Moreover, like exposed above, family in the poem symbolizes trust, love, responsibility, comfort and protection, but the valet failed to fulfil his duties which he admitted in the shed. As a conclusion, the butler didn’t keep such a promise. Moreover, what did the butler do after the painter’s abduction? (chapter 64) (chapter 64) He ran away. He never saved the painter, just like he didn’t argue with his master in that moment. But he could have, since the latter had no sword by his side. Imagine that he had a heated discussion with Yoon Seungho the very next day, and in the courtyard, the protagonist had the sword in the hand. (chapter 68) A sign that he knew that the noble would never slay him! And in the past, the valet had not come to his rescue, shared his suffering or defended his honor. And now, you comprehend why I am more than ever convinced that the valet was never Yoon Seungho’s family: no tear, no joy or no secret shared! His expression “bird of misfortune” embodies the gap between the two characters.

And that’s how I realized why the staff never cared for the couple in the end. It is because the staff would eat together, while Yoon Seungho and Baek Na-Kyum got excluded. In season 4, Yoon Seungho was even forced to give up on his own room for the painter and the maids (chapter 109) The latter would even get the opportunity to eat sweets and sit in the patio (chapter 109), while the lord was relegated to the courtyard. (chapter 109) And the poem mirrors perfectly the birth of Yoon Seungho’s first family. Baek Na-Kyum is his very first family. Thus he could share his pain, his fears, his resent, (chapter 62) and his hope to be happy for one moment: (chapter 63) I selected the terrible scene in the shed for two reasons. It symbolizes the verse “how to become a family”. This explicates why in season 3, the artist was slowly using the personal pronoun “we”. (chapter 78) This means that the two protagonists were learning how to become a true family. And one of this important step was “crying together” which occurred after the sexual abuse in the shrine, (chapter 102) However, Yoon Seungho had to learn the importance of “secrecy”! He kept his crime from his loved one hidden, not understanding that a real family is to “endure all hardships” together. Consequently, I judge this night as the finalization of their “Wedding”, though it is still not official. During this night, we have all the criteria. They share their worries (chapter 110), their happiness (chapter 110), they sit together while eating (chapter 110), they embrace each other, they share the same bed. And the lord makes the following promise: there won’t be any secret between them. He will share everything with his lover. (chapter 110) So when the brother gave the petition to the artist (chapter 116), he even reinforced their bond. It was, as if they had no longer any secret between them. Thus they talked about the document in the pavilion making sure that no one would listen to their discussion. (chapter 117) Therefore, it is not surprising that during that same night, the couple slept under the same blanket while hugging each other. (chapter 117) The symbol for the new family! But a family is not made just of two members! Is Yoon Seungwon a part of Yoon Seungho’s family? Let’s not forget that he considered the artist as his brother’s wife. (chapter 116) What caught my attention is that Yoon Seungho was not followed by his lover, when he met his brother in the gibang. (chapter 118) And this reminded me of this scene: (chapter 37) He wished to send away the artist, but the host refused. Then if you pay attention to his behavior, you will notice that none of them were seen eating together! (chapter 118) Neither in the mansion nor in the kisaeng house. The table between them symbolizes the gap between them. Another important detail is that his brother didn’t serve him a drink which is actually a custom in Joseon. (chapter 118) Compare it to Black Heart’s behavior: (chapter 43) In fact, the two guests were drinking on their own! Yoon Seungwon had even started drinking before the protagonist’s arrival. (chapter 118) Moreover, exactly like the scholar, Yoon Seungwon is just employing the pronouns “you”, “I” and “father”. There is no WE at all. (chapter 118) Moreover, he doesn’t want to share the pain and suffering with his father. And while he shared a secret with Yoon Seungho in the past, (chapter 118), I believe that he is hiding something from his brother again. Thus we see constantly him with a drop of sweat. (chapter 118) (chapter 118) Striking is that he is at no moment mentioning the painter, which actually represents the lord’s source of comfort and joy! He is more talking about the past than the present. He is hoping for a change of heart. That’s the reason why I come to the conclusion that Yoon Seungwon called the main lead as brother (chapter 118), but it is only a name! In reality, he desires to use the main lead. He needs him more than ever! Let’s not forget that the patriarch could discover Yoon Seungwon’s betrayal at any moment. Finally, I would like to outline that family stands for effort and understanding, nevertheless the younger master never showed compassion or worries for his brother, who had just recovered from a stabbing. His speech was full of blame. (chapter 118) Thus I conclude that Yoon Seungwon is not a part of Yoon Seungho’s new family and his smile in the library was fake. His words were just a lip service. (chapter 116) Don’t forget that during the same night, Yoon Seungho got stabbed and the younger master knew it.

And now it is time to examine the families in Jinx.

3. Family in Jinx

3.1. Kim Dan’s family

It is clear that though the grandma moved to the hospital (chapter 22), the physical therapist still views her as his family. This corresponds to the verse “no matter where you are”. This explains why he listened to her and started treating the champion differently. From my point of view, they became a family, because they slept under the same cover (chapter 21), shared their agony, fears (chapter 5) and their happiness together, though this needs to be relativized. (chapter 11). I will give more details later. Another evidence that they are family is that the grandmother would often sing him songs. Then we could say that the grandmother shares her meals with the doctor, for she is often saving yoghurts for her grandson. (chapter 05) She is happy, when she hears good news from her grandson. (chapter 07) When she feels lonely or miserable, she asks for his presence. (chapter 21)

Furthermore, she often caresses her grandson, a different form of embrace. (chapter 5) Nevertheless, there exist two negative aspects. First, I noticed that she didn’t question Kim Dan about his career, only when it was necessary. (chapter 07) She is not that involved in his current life. (chapter 05) Secondly, what caught my attention is that the halmoni is not letting her grandson weep. With her attitude, she implied that he had overreacted (“Now, now none of that”). (chapter 21) Moreover, the poem outlined the necessity of crying together (“be able to cry together”), yet the halmoni was not upset, when she found the little Dan in tears. She didn’t understand his abandonment issues. Thus I deduce that the shared agony was only in one way! If the grandmother was scared or suffering, her grandson should feel the same. (chapter 5) This explicates why Kim Dan was willing to sacrifice himself for his halmoni. (chapter 16) It is because he knew that her grandmother disliked tears. Besides, in a previous essay, I had already outlined that such an attitude was considered as abusive, for such a young child should have been shielded from harm. However, he was exposed to violence very early on. Under this new perspective, it becomes comprehensible why Kim Dan started having secrets from her. Finally, the family portrayed in the poem implied the notion of effort and work. But the moment the grandmother refused to share his agony, she stopped putting energy in her relationship with Kim Dan. This means that as time passed on, she became more and more passive and relied more and more on the main lead. Another interesting aspect is that Kim Dan came to enjoy K-dramas because of his grandmother. (chapter 30) This shows that Kim Dan’s preferences are all influenced by the halmoni. We could say that he didn’t truly develop his own identity. It was, as if he had become the second version of “grandma”. And now, you comprehend why he rejected sex: (chapter 20)

Therefore it is not surprising that as time passes on, they are slowly drifting apart. Notice that he barely visited his grandmother. (chapter 30) Because the grandmother didn’t allow her grandson to share his struggles (no tears), Kim Dan has been hiding many things from his grandmother (chapter 07): the beatings from Heo Manwook, his firing from the hospital, the sexual assault from the perverted hospital director and the moneylender, his deal with Joo Jaekyung and the fact that he moved to the penthouse. This means that little by little, the physical therapist is sharing less and less his happiness with her. I doubt that he told her about his trip to Busan, his first MMA fight as spectator (chapter 15) and his first sparring with Joo Jaekyung (chapter 26). But this is a sign that Kim Dan is maturing. Therefore it is no coincidence that after their first day off spent together, Kim Dan is already under the champion’s spell. (chapter 30) And at some point, the grandma will notice her little boy’s transformation and the growing distance. And Choi Heesung could be the trigger for a first quarrel (chapter 30), because the doctor feels more attracted towards the champion than the actor. I have already outlined that so far, the physical therapist’s life had been determined by the grandmother. But a discussion is not necessarily a bad thing, quite the opposite, for to be a family means to share thoughts and emotions.

3.2. Joo Jaekyung’s “families”

So far, we don’t know if the celebrity has a family. However, what caught my attention is that Team Black is a company that Joo Jaekyung created for his personal needs. Though it is an enterprise (incorporation, where he is the shareholder), I noticed that Park Namwook treats the members like a family. They share their meals together (chapter 22) (chapter 26), they get support from each other (chapter 14) (chapter 23) or they argue (chapter 07). Moreover, they call the older members “hyung” (chapter 5) (chapter 23) which is another evidence that Team Black functions more like a family than like a company. What caught my attention is that the doctor is not addressed as hyung (chapter 30) but as Doc Dan or doc. (chapter 23), though the manager Park Namwook had introduced him as hyung. (chapter 07) The reason behind this different title is the champion. The latter addressed him like that: (chapter 22) It exposes that the physical therapist occupies a particular position at the gym. On the one hand, it could be interpreted that he has not been entirely adopted as a family member. On the other hand, the physical therapist didn’t exclude that he could have other clients. (chapter 25) This means that his “adoption” is not definitive and official. Nevertheless, I would like to outline that though Team Black’s structure resembles a lot to a family, we can not say that it is a true family. Why? It is because Joo Jaekyung is hiding many things from his hyungs and members. He is not sharing his problems to his coach (his insomnia, his jinx, his sexual orientation, his insecurities eg). Imagine that he preferred deceiving his admirer (chapter 15) than admitting that his shoulder had been plaguing him. And it is the same for Potato. He didn’t talk about the incident with the office room and the sofa. (chapter 25) According to me, Jeong Yosep knows about the true relationship between the physical therapist and the alpha black wolf. But he kept this information to himself as well. However, like pointed out before, family stands for communication and not secrecy! Moreover, so far, we only saw the fighters share their happiness. And what about their struggles or defeat? To conclude, Jinx is actually showing us the transformation of Team Black as company into a family. How they “become” a WE! Park Namwook does consider Team Black as his gym, but he has his own family. However, this is not the case for Jeong Yosep or Joo Jaekyung, who lives as a loner wolf! In my opinion, Team Black will turn into a real family, the moment Kim Dan loses his halmoni. Remember the quote from the poem: “If you can’t say you’re hurt when you feel hurt you’re not family“. Kim Dan won’t be able to hide his sadness and broken heart. In the beginning of the story, he lied to the coach and Kwak Junbeom about the reason for his injuries: (chapter 11), because he considered them as superior and colleagues. In other words, the fighters will share their pain with doc Dan helping him to overcome the loss. But this change can only happen, when the owner of Team Black has a change of heart himself as well. Remember how he pushed Oh Daehung and the other members away. (chapter 22) He didn’t want them to come to his house. (chapter 22) So far, he didn’t want people to cross the line, but thanks to the physical therapist, this will change. That’s how both protagonists will come to view more and more Team Black as a family. They will share their struggles and happy moments together. I have one evidence that Kim Dan is the key to turn Team Black into a real family. It is because Joo Jaekyung came to the gathering (chapter 9), though he had been avoiding such events in the past.

But in chapter 30, the Manhwalovers could discover that the champion belongs to an Entertainment agency as well. (chapter 30) But he is there an employee. Thus I am suspecting that the talent agency is working differently from Team Black. If there is a scandal, I doubt that the company would side with the star in trouble or they would try to find ways to get rid of the issue, like finding a scapegoat in order to bury the truth. As a conclusion, I am expecting to see companies run differently so that the readers can perceive Team Black as a family company, although it is an incorporation.

Naturally, there is no doubt that Kim Dan will become the champion’s real family. The author let us see such a scene. Right after their First Night together, the champion shared his bed with Kim Dan. (chapter 4) This was a reference to the blanket in the poem, though here Kim Dan slept in a cocoon. This was a sign that he didn’t feel safe. However, as time passed on, I detected a change in Kim Dan’s sleeping position. He is lying on his back and even in the middle of the bed. (chapter 29) It is because Joo Jaekyung always put him there! This exposes that the champion is still thinking that he represents a disturbance to the Sleeping beauty. One thing is sure: Joo Jaekyung will become the blanket taking over the grandmother’s past role: (chapter 21) At the same time, this signifies that Kim Dan will have a similar function in the champion’s life either. Thanks to his presence and embrace, the boxer will be able to relax and to fall asleep.

Another important detail is the doctor’s tears. When Kim Dan met the celebrity for the first time, the former started crying, when he thought hat he would get punished. (chapter 1) This was the reaction from the champion: (chapter 1) He questioned the cause for the tears. He was naturally annoyed (“the hell”), but he didn’t make fun of the doctor. And now, pay attention to the memory Joo Jaekyung had from their first night. He remembered his tears which had moved him deeply: (chapter 6) This shows that the celebrity is not judging the physical therapist as weak due to his tears. In episode 28, he even showed concerns, when he heard the doctor crying. (chapter 28) (chapter 28) He questioned the doctor once again, why he was in tears. However, he didn’t ask the doctor to stop weeping or to wipe his tears. He wanted to understand him. This exposes the fighter’s tolerance and interest in Kim Dan. For me, it reveals that Joo Jaekyung is willing to share the pain or fears with Kim Dan. Therefore it is not surprising that Kim Dan is remembering this moment! (chapter 30) He was allowed to express his emotions. Interesting is that this image is now connected to red, not to grey/black. (chapter 20) or orange/pink (chapter 30) The switch of color indicates the doctor’s increasing feelings and sensuality for Joo Jaekyung. That’s the reason why I am expecting that one day, the two protagonists will cry together, something that the grandma hasn’t done until now.

But let’s return our attention to the poem and its illustration in Jinx. A sweet and soft ice cream cone isn’t enough to become a family. Just because they shared one meal together (chapter 13), it doesn’t signify that they are a family now. And it is the same for the penthouse. (chapter 18) They might share the same flat, but the penthouse is so huge that they can technically live apart. Joo Jaekyung and Kim Dan are slowly spending more and more time together, either because the champion feels like it (chapter 19) or it is necessary . (chapter 27) During the day off, they shared their thoughts,, their emotions (chapter 27) (chapter 27), their happiness (chapter 28) and their fears (chapter 27) (chapter 29) Because Joo JAekyung confessed his fears and health issues to Kim Dan, it shows that he was trusting him. For me, this night represents another step how to become a true family. “If you can’t say you’re hurt when you feel hurt you’re not family.” This day and night were so magical that it affected the protagonists’ life forever. From that moment on, Kim Dan is feeling more attracted to the champion, hence he is peeping at him. (chapter 30) And it is the same for the champion. Now, he is slowly regretting that they live in two different rooms and they have their own bathroom. Therefore he came to the doctor’s bathroom under the fake excuse that he had run out of toothpaste. (chapter 30) What was so funny is that he had opened the door like a huge bear. Why? It is because he was so annoyed how to explain his intrusion. (chapter 30) This shows that little by little, the champion is regretting his words to Kim Dan in the master’s room. (chapter 29) For me, he will be forced to recognize that work is not bringing him closer to Kim Dan, especially after Choi Heesung met the main lead. (chapter 30) For me, this scene is the bathroom represents another step how to become a true family. (chapter 30) However, like Mingwa voiced it, they have a long way to go, for Joo Jaekyung and Kim Dan are hiding their true thoughts and emotions from each other. (chapter 30) Kim Dan had to hide his blushing, while the champion had to lie for his appearance. Moreover, the fact that he tried to hide his underwear (chapter 30) indicates that their intimacy has not reached its peak. He doesn’t feel comfortable around the athlete to be seen in underwear. Moreover, the champion is also hiding his jealousy and possessiveness towards the main character. (chapter 30) But like I said, they need to open up their hearts and mind in order to become a true family. From my point of view, the halmoni could play a huge role in their union. How so? It is because she entrusted her grandson to Joo Jaekyung. The latter also conversed with her (chapter 21) and even paid her hospital bills. She even took his hand (chapter 22) and gave him a yoghurt. (chapter 21) So the moment the grandma vanishes, it could also wound the champion’s heart, especially when his sex partner is so heartbroken. It would be interesting if the champion came to voice his feelings about her. If you can’t say you’re hurt when you feel hurt you’re not family.

And because the champion saved Kim Dan, paid off the debts and gave him a house and a place to feel safe, he embodies responsibility, trust, support and protection which is the true face of family. That’s the reason why the physical therapist is slowly transforming, developing his own interests and as such his own identity. But the closer the doctor gets to the champion, the bigger gap becomes between him and his grandma which can represent a source of conflict. And now, Choi Heesung met Kim Dan, thus he could disrupt the fragile harmony between Kim Dan, the grandma and Joo Jaekyung. Don’t forget that the grandmother is a huge fan of the actor and she is actually suffering from Peter Pan Syndrome. To conclude, Jinx is exactly like Painter Of The Night. We are witnessing the start of a new family breaking boundaries and taboos. Yet, both “families” are real and true, for they embody selflessness, honesty and trust.

Feel free to comment. If you have any suggestion for topics or manhwas, feel free to ask. If you enjoyed reading it, retweet it or push the button like. My Reddit-Instagram-Tumblr-Twitter account is: @bebebisous33. Thanks for reading and for the support, particularly, I would like to thank all the new followers and people recommending my blog.

Painter Of The Night: A book📖 , a kiss 💋, a confession (second version)

Please support the authors by reading the manhwas on the official websites. This is where you can read the manhwa. https://www.lezhinus.com/en/comic/painter But be aware that this manhwa is a mature Yaoi, which means, it is about homosexuality with explicit scenes. If you want to read more essays, here is the link to the table of contents:  https://bebebisous33analyses.wordpress.com/2020/07/04/table-of-contents-painter-of-the-night 

It would be great if you could make some donations/sponsoring: Ko-fi.com/bebebisous33  That way, you can support me with “coffee” so that I have the energy to keep examining manhwas. Besides, I need to cover up the expenses for this blog.

I have to admit that chapter 109 left me wanting more, for the story barely moved on. Technically, only a few minutes elapse between the end of episode 108 and 109. The former begins with the painter’s arrival in the library and the latter ends with Yoon Seungho’s shocked expression: (chapter 109) He discovers that Baek Na-Kyum has already prepared himself, as he is longing for him. (chapter 109) He never expected such a reaction. The reason why the evolution of Painter Of The Night is flowing at a snail’s pace is that season 4 is now focusing more on the past. First, Byeonduck needs to divulge the lord’s suffering and its causes. And this can only happen, if memories are brought up. Hence in episode 109, the painter’s memories stood in the center. Why? It is because he is trying to understand why his loved one is now avoiding him. Thus he is remembering what happened just before. The readers are actually put in the same situation than the artist. On the one hand, the focus on recollection is a method to unveil how the young master was turned into a “sodomite and pariah”, for the painter is going through the same experience than his partner. In episode 109, he is isolated from his “lover” and as such from his family, for he has now maids by his side. The latter are supposed to be his new “family”. On the other hand it helps the manhwaphiles to anticipate the future main events,. as the progression is in slow motion. This means, the Webtoonist left all the elements in the previous seasons in order to decode the past, the present and the future. That way, the manhwalovers are capable to unveil the mystery. Besides, the author has to answer all the questions the beholders had while reading the previous seasons, like this one: (chapter 27) What book was the scholar looking for? Up to now, we have no clue, though I had developed the following theory: Jung In-Hun was a Christian and had a bible.

1. The mystery behind the book

What caught my attention in chapter 109 is the falling book! (chapter 109) How did this happen? One might reply that the book fell from the shelf, when the painter kissed his lover. (chapter 109) This interpretation can be easily refuted, for the noble stood next to the shelf and not in front of it. Besides, the counter stands on the noble’s left, while the ledger was on his right. However, one detail caught my notice, the beholder can not see Yoon Seungho’s hands!! That’s how I realized that the book came from the protagonist! He had carried it hidden in his right sleeve. This explicates why the book stands on the right side. (chapter 109) Besides, contrary to the previous panel, now the lord’s hand is visible! This is no coincidence. But if he was hiding the copy from Baek Na-Kyum, I deduce that it is related to the painter. But there is another person associated to manuscripts in this story, Jung In-Hun!! But what have the low-born and the scholar in common then? The erotic publications! (chapter 34) Note that in the background, there’s a book open on the desk, and it has the exact opposite position than in episode 109! And now, you comprehend why Yoon Seungho rejected the painter’s company next to his table. He didn’t want him to see the publication, for he feared that the painter would be reminded of Jung In-Hun. In the lord’s mind, the young artist still treasures his former teacher. He heard his confession on the bridge next to the pavilion. (chapter 94) However, Yoon Seungho is suspecting that the learned sir was behind the trick in the shaman’s house due to the glasses Min had in his hand before dying. (chapter 102) Hence he doesn’t want to break the main lead’s heart and mind. In other words, the main lead is determined to hide the past from Baek Na-Kyum so that the latter’s memory and agony won’t be triggered. The book could definitely remind the low-born of all the events which led to the massacre in the shaman’s shrine. Besides, I feel that the noble must feel guilty as well. If only he hadn’t admired the erotic publications which led to Baek Na-Kyum’s stay in his mansion. Consequently, I think that the noble is also in agony because of the work.

2. The identification of the volume

So far, I didn’t prove that the copy was an erotic publication. This is just a speculation from my part. But like mentioned in the introduction, the clues are all left in the previous seasons, for the story is constructed like a kaleidoscope. That’s why I included it in the illustration. However, there exist two reasons why I came to this deduction. I detected similarities with the first encounter between Yoon Seungho and his nemesis in the scholar’s home and the painter’s kisses.

2. 1. The scholar’s book in episode 6

First, let’s start with a comparison with episode 6. Here, the lord was holding a book while interrogating the learned sir. (chapter 6) Both were standing in front of the cupboard, while the learned sir suddenly took away the copy and closed it to put it back on the cupboard. This made the protagonist smirk. Due to the characters’ reaction, (chapter 6), I had assumed that the protagonist was making fun of Jung In-Hun. He had played a prank on the host, especially after asking about his occupation. I have always wondered about the content of the volume. Therefore I had developed the idea that this could be the bible. However, it was clear that the book was not for children which is visible due to the writing. (chapter 6) In fact, the learned sir should have the manual Thousand Character Classic (Chinese: 千字文; pinyin: Qiānzì Wén), also known as the Thousand Character Text.

The Thousand Character Classic has been used as a primer for learning Chinese characters for many centuries. It is uncertain when the Thousand Character Classic was introduced to Korea.” Quoted from https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Thousand_Character_Classic [I usually avoid wikipedia, but here I was not able to find another source mentioning Joseon and classic book]

The main lead was holding the evidence for Jung In-Hun’s hypocrisy. That’s the reason why the learned sir was forced to admit that he wasn’t dedicated to his job. (chapter 6) In reality, he wasn’t teaching them reading and writing at all. But Yoon Seungho had feigned ignorance with this discovery. With his indifference and praises, the false teacher had the impression that he was supporting his attitude. This scene is relevant, because the learned sir had lied to the protagonist about the painter’s education. (chapter 6) This means that the book represents the evidence of learned sir’s betrayal and abandonment. He is responsible for his illiteracy. To conclude, this scene contains the following elements: a prank, a lie, a confession which was triggered by a book that Yoon Seungho had picked up by chance. But wait… it could be the book from the scholar’s home! (chapter 06) But this image can be used to refute this theory. How so? It is because this book has a title, hence there is a white rectangle!! However, take a closer look at the copy on the floor. (chapter 109) There is no white rectangle and as such no title! Why? It is because the publication is illegal, for sodomy was condemned by Joseon society and traditions. According to me, the tailor was involved in the erotic publications. Besides, compare it to the manuscripts in the learned sir’s bedroom! (chapter 50) Finally, I would like the readers to keep in mind that they could only see the content of the books (chapter 1), but they never got the chance to see the cover.

Now it is time to return to our contrast between chapter 6 and 109. Since the scene in the library from episode 109 represents the positive reflection from chapter 6, this signifies that the characters must have behaved the opposite way. And what did the noble do in the library? He made sure that the painter wouldn’t come close to the table, while in episode 6, the host did the exact opposite. (chapter 6) He proposed him to sit and have a cup of tea to divert his attention from the books on the cupboard. Besides, I would like to outline the huge contrast between these two scenes. The scholar needed the assistance of the prestigious family Yoon, while the protagonist replied this to his loved one: (chapter 109) Needed versus not necessary!

Finally, in the same chapter, the scholar admitted that he had scolded Baek Na-Kyum, but he never revealed what he had truly done and why. (chapter 6) He was here very vague (“bizarre and vulgar”), he spoke of a scolding, but never of rejection and abandonment!! This is important, because Yoon Seungho also experienced something similar in the shed: (chapter 77) Back then, the butler’s words must have wounded him terribly, he must have felt dirty either. Under this new perspective, it becomes comprehensible why I came to this conclusion that the book is related to the learned sir and to the erotic publication. But this doesn’t end here. In my eyes, episode 109 clearly outlined the importance of the library in the protagonists’ life. This is the place where both main leads got betrayed and abandoned. (chapter 40) When the scholar wounded the artist with his words, he implied that the artist was responsible for his lack of education. With the idiom “I thought, you could be educated”, he gave the impression that he had put some effort, but due to the artist’s disposition, he had failed. We had another scene where the learned sir was blaming Baek Na-Kyum. (chapter 70) He would fall asleep instead of studying. And who knows about the learned sir’s hypocrisy? Yoon Seungho!! That’s the reason why the goddess Byeonduck let them meet in the library. It is to heal their wounds. In this room, Yoon Seungho’s suffering started and later, the painter got betrayed by his former teacher, someone whom he viewed as his “family and mentor”.

2. 2. The painting and the kisses

But like mentioned above, I identified the publication thanks to the painter’s kisses as well. That’s the reason why these kisses are in the center of the illustration, where I chose a kaleidoscope in the background. When Yoon Seungho got kissed by the painter (chapter 109), he got surprised, and he had the same gaze and facial expression than the one during the First wedding night , in the gibang and in the study (chapter 42), though here the artist kissed his companion twice! (chapter 49) And what had these scenes in common? Paintings and the artist’s confession. And now, you comprehend how I made the connection between the book and painting.

In episode 19, the artist had been asked to show his latest creation to the guests, and Min was present. (chapter 19) This scene could only break the artist’s heart, because he was reminded of the learned sir’s reaction: his rejection. The latter got angry and jealous that the low-born would be treated as someone special. Furthermore, Jung In-Hun had only got the noble’s sponsorship thanks to Baek Na-Kyum and not thanks to his own talent! In verity, the learned sir had been the tool to submit Baek Na-Kyum. Shortly after the exposition, the protagonist went to the study. There he got confused for Jung In-Hun, hence he received a wonderful confession (chapter 19) before getting kissed and embraced!

In episode 42, the lord noticed the artist’s agony, but he blamed the learned sir. (chapter 42) Yet, the artist was unable to explain the situation, for he had internalized Jung In-Hun’s criticism. (chapter 42) So we could say that the yangban tried to get a confession from the painter, but he failed. Hence they had just sex. The artist’s heartbreak was the reason why he never got to confess the truth! And what had happened in the study after the painter kissed the main lead? The lord saw the inauguration illustration and got jealous of Jung In-Hun (chapter 42)

Then in season 2, the painter had voiced his perception of his sex partner (chapter 48), and the painting had exposed the main lead’s uneasiness and pain. The drawing was not refined, barely finished. (chapter 47) The behavior from the painter and the new painting had not only wounded the main lead, but also pushed the lord to discover why the artist was behaving this way. After the rough sex session, the artist had made a confession: he was dropping the rules he had been raised. (chapter 49) He was admitting his sexual orientation and his own pleasure, but he still kept his distance from Yoon Seungho. Why? It is because he was reminded of the learned sir’s fake embrace and betrayal. (chapter 49)

Finally, in the kisaeng house, the noonas had shown the artist’s paintings (chapter 94) which incited the artist to recall his childhood. That’s how he came to unveil his past and confess his love to the noble! (chapter 94) And what do have all these kissing scenes in common?

  • A painting triggering souvenirs and as such emotions (sadness, jealousy, pain, nostalgia)
  • A confession
  • SEX
  • The direct or indirect meddling of Min: the wine (chapter 19), the parties after the separation (chapter 51), his visit in the gibang and his tricks (chapter 96). In episode 109, the painter confused Yoon Seungho’s shadow with Black Heart’s. In his nightmare, he was brought back to the shaman’s house and the lord’s smile was similar to Min’s. (chapter 109) (chapter 99) Besides, let’s not forget that during that terrible night, Black Heart never touched the artist himself, as if he didn’t want to touch a trinket sullied by another man”. On Twitter, the author revealed that Min would help Yoon Seungho. Through this comparison, the beholder can confirm this. Thanks to Black Heart, the couple got closer in the end.
  • The meddling of the maids, as the latter are responsible for the kitchen! The stolen wine (chapter 19), the spying on the painter – though here it appears like a good thing – (chapter 41), the stones in the rice (chapter 47) and the words from the maid who repeated the noona’s principle (chapter 109). Here, the maid was triggering the painter’s memory and as such fears. That’s the reason why the readers can see the laugh of someone outside the building (chapter 109). She was acting, as if Baek Na-Kyum was not present, but in reality she knew that he could listen to her. How do I know this? The evidence are the sweets on the windowsill. (chapter 109) They never encouraged the tormented boy to eat the sweets!! Besides, this episode confirmed my interpretation about the complicity of the maids. As their role is to comfort Baek Na-Kyum, the readers should question themselves about their absence. (chapter 108) Why is the room dark? Where are the maids during that night, as they are supposed to sleep next to the painter? (chapter 109) The absence of the light is truly noticeable, an indicator that they are not in the bedchamber. Moreover, I had detected that the brown bed cover symbolizes the meddling of Kim. [For more read the essay “The riddle with the bed cover”] Finally, this scene contrasts to the painter’s dream with the noonas: (chapter 87) Sincerity versus fake concern; own choice versus manipulation, happiness versus sadness. Under this perspective, you comprehend why I view the maids as traitors. But since season 1, the women were never punished. Hence they felt free to badmouth Yoon Seungho or Baek Na-Kyum. So while he was preparing himself, where were the ladies-in-waiting? I doubt, the painter would give them orders. The painter was left alone on purpose. Finally, the manhwalovers should question why there is a bottle of oil in the bedchamber. So far, Yoon Seungho utilized it once (chapter 20) and it was during the first Wedding Night. And oil comes from the kitchen, the lord had fetched it from that room!! Naturally, there is an exception, and it is the kiss in the gibang. Yet, here the kisaengs had just replaced the maids. In other words, they had played a role in the confession. And this explains why the noona’s words are superposed with the maids. (chapter 109) This exposes that the couple has enemies not only in the mansion, but also in the kisaeng house, though I don’t think that the noonas have truly ill intentions.

3. The scholar and sodomy

But I have left the most important common denominator, Jung In-Hun!! He was always present, before, during and after the kiss and the sex session! However, the last episode represents the exception. At no moment, the artist thought about the teacher for one moment! All his thoughts were revolving about Yoon Seungho (chapter 109) That’s the reason why I am convinced that the book is strongly connected to the learned sir. In my eyes, it can only be the erotic publication of sodomy!! Why? It is because it represents the painter’s biggest wound. It explains his low self-esteem. Consequently, I am expecting the appearance of this panel: (tweet) The teacher told him “It’s dirty”, and wounded him the most with his gaze full of hatred, the symbol of rejection! Note that in episode 109, the painter always focused on the mouth and not the gaze, (chapter 109) (chapter 109) (chapter 109), because he fears to meet such a resentful gaze. This observation leads me to the following conclusion. In season 1, the painter’s memory got triggered due to the lord’s behavior, as the latter wanted to see a painting of their Wedding Night, but he got something else. (chapter 25) Moreover, during that night, we have the same elements: a painting, a confession, sex, a book that the scholar was looking for. From my point of view, in chapter 34, Baek Na-Kyum only recalled the beating from Jung In-Hun. (chapter 34) Moreover, observe that the artist was covering his eyes, a sign that he was trying to deny the existence of the hateful and cold gaze from the learned sir. As if he wanted to forget it. However, in chapter 34, the artist never realized that this incident had triggered his abandonment issues. And now, in the library, the painter is about to get confronted with his biggest fear: he is not lovable, for he is dirty. Moreover, he is not educated, because he is just a low-born. And this can only be triggered by an image, an erotic painting of sodomy, like in the artist’s nightmare from episode 34: (chapter 34) But like I wrote above, this place is also where Yoon Seungho got betrayed and in my opinion, the schemers are planning to use this place to ruin the protagonist!!

4. Sex or not?

So what is the trick? Naturally, this can only be a conjecture… yet my prediction is based on observations and deductions. My method is to compare the scenes containing parallels. And what have all the scenes mentioned above in common? SEX!! That’s the reason why I am now expecting that the couple won’t have sex, but they will have a painful and long discussion. Yes… this is the true night of revelation. Thus I believe that Yoon Seungho will talk about his own past to Baek Na-Kyum…. as the former also feels guilty and dirty. Remember that he views himself as the bird of misfortune. The couple has been separated for one week on purpose… it is to push the painter to have sex with Yoon Seungho. Why? The purpose is to prove that Yoon Seungho is guilty of sodomy. Yes, it is because in Joseon, it is a crime. Homosexuality had to happen behind closed doors. The father had never reported it to the authorities in order to protect his reputation. In the street, the gossiping women were complaining about the depravity of noblemen who would have sex with women and men. (chapter 106) (chapter 106) And if Yoon Seungho gets caught having sex with the painter and he has an erotic publication of sodomy, he can be framed for the murder of lord Shin and the other nobles. He will be guilty by association. Thus I deduce that the schemers needed the father to report him to the authorities. (chapter 107) That way, he can prove that his son is a depraved lunatic and regain the control of the mansion. (chapter 86) And if they are not caught having sex, the schemers are hoping for an argument between the two main leads because of the separation. This was planned to incite Baek Na-Kyum to resent his lover, to accuse him of „abandonment and betrayal“, a new version of this scene. (Chapter 105) As you can see, the staff had encouraged the lord to keep his distance from his companion on purpose, to create a misunderstanding… they used the painter’s anxieties. Why? That way, the artist would be more inclined to betray his lover, if the latter was in difficulty. He could put the blame on him. In my opinion, the book was planted there on purpose. Remember how the artist denied that he was the author of the erotic publications. (Chapter 1) Besides, there is no doubt that the father refuses to take any responsibility in his son’s suffering. And now, you comprehend why this copy was put on the lord’s desk. He was supposed to be the owner of the erotic book and even the author! I am suspecting that he was accused of the „same crime“ in the past. Then this observation raises the following question. Which erotic publication is it? The original (chapter 1) or the copy (chapter 1)? For me, it can only be the original. I have two reasons to think so. First, the painter had only painted such pictures, because he had no other choice, or better said he was asked by someone close. (chapter 1) This would stand in opposition to the scholar’s rejection (dirty), as the artist was just the helping hand. Besides, there is no ambiguity that Yoon Seungho blames himself due to the erotic book. If he had not brought the painter to his mansion, none of this would have happened. But the painter’s confession would make him realize that his misery started long before he met Yoon Seungho. And how did the puppetmaster come up with such an idea? From my point of view, this plan was inspired by the learned sir. (chapter 27) Notice that he has a drop of sweat on his face, a sign that the book is really important and could be even dangerous. He was diminishing the value. In the past, I had already pointed out that the learned sir had planned to backstab the main lead and denunciate him to the authorities (my first theory was the bible or the the absence of jesa in the mansion). But the erotic publications of sodomy would fit the profile.

Secondly, the schemers believe that with the original, they can ensure Yoon Seungho’s culpability. If they are caught having sex and there is this publication, then both can only be sentenced. They would even kill two birds with one stone, as the painter is in reality the real target of the scheme. That’s the reason why the painter was left alone in the bedchamber. The maids needed to give him space so that he would make a move and seduce his lover. Thus I deduce that during that night, Kim won’t spy on the couple. He has no need to, for he “knows” what is going to happen. He definitely views them as people consumed by lust. However, the gods are on the couple’s side. Hence the book fell on the ground.

And who could have the right to barge in the mansion followed by officers? A family member… and this can only be Yoon Seungwon… who had been a witness of his brother’s sodomy. (chapter 37) Back then, he imagined that the man hidden under the green hanbok was the learned sir, but he was mistaken. Both father and son believes to have seen the relative’s sodomy. Besides, the brother mentioned letters and these usually are written on a desk and as such in the library. Yes, this night should trigger the lord’s memory… his brother’s betrayal and abandonment. I am still waiting for this picture. Yoon Seungwon had definitely tattled on his brother out of jealousy in the past. Don’t forget this flashbulb. (chapter 55) Finally, Heena could serve as a witness, for she did hear their conversation in the annex and saw their intercourse: (chapter 96) She would tell the truth… yet it wouldn’t serve her, because she reported it too late. She could be perceived as pathological liar. Besides, she was not supposed to be in the kisaeng house. Moreover, note that all the erotic paintings the painter created vanished. There is no evidence that the artist is the author of the erotic publications of sodomy, as his notebook contains images of nature. (chapter 84) Finally, the childhood paintings could be used as an evidence. But what about the book in the library? Both could decide to burn it…

  • Chapter 35: the burned letter
  • Chapter 103: the shrine

And now it is time to conclude this essay. I would like to remind the role of the painter’s kiss in this story. It is to emulate his lover, to trigger emotions and thoughts in him, to open up. Hence he is caught by surprise all the time. While in chapter 49, the artist kissed his partner to silence him (chapter 49) so that he wouldn’t argue with him (being his sex toy), I view the kiss in the library as the opposite, it is liberating Yoon Seungho. (chapter 109) Note that there is no rejection from the lord, just surprise and shock. Besides, in the kisaeng house, the artist’s confession had led the main lead to confess as well. (chapter 96) Striking is that he had hidden his gaze from the artist first. As if love was a sin…Hence I am expecting a confession from Yoon Seungho in that very room too, something he has never done before! Why? It is because he was not the owner of his own past. Kim acted, as if he possessed his memories. Finally, the moment the painter divulges this incident to his companion, (tweet), the latter can only come to the conclusion that the scholar would have no problem to hurt Baek Na-Kyum and even get revenge on the artist, for he received the favors from the protagonist. Yoon Seungho would no longer feel obliged to respect Heena’s wish, for her words wouldn’t reflect reality. (chapter 105) And it was Yoon Seungho’s luck, when the book fell from his sleeve! (chapter 27) contrary to the night of the rape. (chapter 27) The goddess Byeonduck is on their side. But the problem is that the readers have the impression that both are followed by misfortune due to their misery. The reality is that they are both victims of manipulations and tricks. That’s their tragedy. But by repeating that the two figures are “birds of misfortune”, the accomplices are trying to deny their own involvement and as such responsibility. The maids are the perfect example. They blame Baek Na-Kyum for his own illness. He eats like a bird and he would hide his illness. (chapter 108) To sum up, he was responsible for his own suffering, for he was in denial and the maids could do nothing to help. But the lord can see the truth, when he touches his lover’s butt. (chapter 109) He lost weight in such a short time. And their presence by Baek Na-Kyum’s side was supposed to help him. They were responsible for his well-being, but the women never realized it.

I have to admit that I am always anticipating the story due to the slow progression of the story. We are all waiting for the time, when Yoon Seungho and Baek Na-Kyum can have a date properly. One thing is sure. The storm is coming during this night… and it will affect the life of many people, the schemers and accomplices! The question is now how long this night will last (how many episodes).

Feel free to comment. If you have any suggestion for topics or manhwas, feel free to ask. If you enjoyed reading it, retweet it or push the button like. My Reddit-Instagram-Tumblr-Twitter account is: @bebebisous33. Thanks for reading and for the support, particularly, I would like to thank all the new followers and people recommending my blog.

Painter Of The Night/ Doctor Frost: Bad decisions ❌⭕

Please support the authors by reading the manhwas on the official websites. This is where you can read the manhwa. https://www.lezhinus.com/en/comic/painter But be aware that this manhwa is a mature Yaoi, which means, it is about homosexuality with explicit scenes. If you want to read more essays, here is the link to the table of contents:  https://bebebisous33analyses.wordpress.com/2020/07/04/table-of-contents-painter-of-the-night I am also using doctor Frost as reference again.  https://www.webtoons.com/en/mystery/dr-frost/list?title_no=371  

It would be great if you could make some donations/sponsoring: Ko-fi.com/bebebisous33  That way, you can support me with “coffee” so that I have the energy to keep examining manhwas. Besides, I need to cover up the expenses for this blog.

Many manhwalovers were heartbroken, when they witness how the painter ran after Yoon Seungho in order to remain by his side. (chapter 105) Imagine that despite his rush, he was clear-minded enough to take the yellow scarf, a present that the noble had just bought him before. 😢 The item had more value than the mituri (shoes). Thus he was running in socks. His gesture displayed how much the lord means to the painter. He cherishes everything the lord does for him. At the same time, it indicates his heartache. He was so desperate and scared, for he felt that he was about to get abandoned one more time. (chapter 105) According to my follower @katamins, in the Korean version, this is what Baek Na-Kyum yells:

“My lord, let’s go together…you left me behind…let’s go toge-..

One might argue that the meaning is the same, yet in the Korean version, the artist is emphasizing the “we” by employing the expressions “us” (let’s = let us) and “together”. He considers the lord as his family. Moreover, by repeating the same sentence, (chapter 105) it works like a spell or a prayer. The artist is clinching onto this phrase hoping that the noble is remembering his promise. The irony is that the low-born was smiling like a fool, (chapter 105) (chapter 105) masking his anxieties and huge pain… out of fear that Yoon Seungho would still reject him. He acted, as if nothing had happened: he had not hurt his hand, and the lord had done nothing wrong. The smile became the symbol of his agony which reminds us of Yoon Seungho’s. (chapter 83)

1. Smiling like a fool

As you can sense, this scene was a reflection from episode 85. (chapter 85) This means that Baek Na-Kyum was put in the same situation than his lover who wished to keep the artist by his side, but feared to open up to him out of self-hatred and guilt. The painter could get burdened or horrified by his revelations. Hence the painter’s reaction at the end mirrors the yangban’s in the study. Both were or are pleading the partner to stay by their side,. (chapter 85) (chapter 105) Nevertheless, their behavior diverges so much. The aristocrat couldn’t raise his voice or become violent by using his hand, because he could scare the artist and as such break his previous promise. Finally, by destroying the music box, he had already witnessed that he had pushed his lover further away. (chapter 85) At the same time, since he had been taught that no noble should lower himself in front of commoners, it is normal that he couldn’t beg Baek Na-Kyum on his knees. To sum up, the noble had to restrain himself extremely, his face and words were the only way to show his emotions and despair. And the artist sensed it, though the lord was not weeping. The proof is that when the father appeared, the artist changed his mind. He was no longer willing to leave, in fact he chose to look for his lover. (chapter 87) This shows that through communication, the lord had been able to affect the painter‘s mind and heart. On the other hand, we shouldn’t underestimate the lord’s flashback and Na-Kyum’s conversation with the butler which played a huge part in the artist‘s decision to vow loyalty to Yoon Seungho despite the secret.

And this is the same with the painter. The first visible difference is that the artist leashed out his anger mixed with agony, thus he started punching his partner. (chapter 105) Then I noticed that contrary to his lover, the artist asked the reasons for his decision. (chapter 105) Why did he change his mind? Is he responsible for this? As you can see, the painter came to voice his guilt and the remains of his deeply rooted self-hatred. (chapter 105) He must have committed a wrongdoing, he is responsible for the situation. He feels like a burden, for the lord had to take care of him each night. (chapter 104) They are no longer sharing the same bed, the lord is sitting by his side comforting him, when the young man has a nightmare. Under this new light, it becomes comprehensible that the artist was working in the backyard. (chapter 104) He wished to help, that way he wouldn’t be seen as a spoiled child. He has to justify his presence in the mansion. Who is he exactly that he is sleeping in the lord’s bed? I am suspecting that there is a rumor circulating within the propriety, a new version of this scene: (chapter 38) which I will explain more in details below. Thus the artist is making sure to cause no trouble to Yoon Seungho and the staff, especially the maids. Hence he folds the cover and clean the bedroom. (chapter 104) Then he washes clothes. He makes sure that he is no burden to anyone. Yet, my impression is that the staff is taking advantage of the artist’s goodness. That’s how they fuel his guilt and shame.

2. Ignorance and secrets

The irony is that the main lead was keeping the artist in the dark about his crime for this exact reason: GUILT. He didn’t desire him to feel responsible. (chapter 104) This intention was again verbalized in the gibang. (chapter 105) In the Korean version, this is what Heena says:

Heena: “So Nakyum doesn’t know a thing? Thank god he didn’t see nor hear a thing about that awful matter”

The painter is left in the dark about the massacre in the shaman’s shrine. The kisaeng and the noble are both following the principle from Kim: Ignorance is a blessing. They imagine that by choosing secrecy, they are able to protect the artist. But the silence and secrecy are the exact reasons why Baek Na-Kyum feels like a burden! He was not allowed to talk about the circumstances of his misery. (chapter 104) He was told not to question what he had heard… he should simply consider everything like a nightmare. However, this method is actually wrong.

“Keeping secrets limits responsiveness by preventing people from acting naturally and sharing freely. […] People who have studied the psychology of secrecy explain that secrets create “motivational conflict,” where the goal to avoid the social costs of the information being revealed conflicts with the goal to connect with others and maintain intimacy by sharing the information. Because keeping secrets can undermine social relationships, secrecy can lead to isolation and feelings of loneliness in extreme cases. Holding secrets also takes energy. It’s tiring, and sometimes impossible, to keep a secret. The exercise of will and vigilance in being careful with what one says uses emotional and cognitive resources and can leave a residue of negative feelings, like guilt.” Quoted from https://medium.com/s/story/how-does-keeping-secrets-harm-us-91978aefed77

Under this new perspective, it explains why Kim aged so much within 10 months!! (chapter 07) (chapter 104) Not only he knows about the lord’s traumatic past, but it is the same for the painter. In addition, we have another explanation for Yoon Seungho’s insomnia and dissociative state. (chapter 57) Not only the latter was turned into the scapegoat for the downfall of the Yoons, but also he was not allowed to reveal the incident, the so-called treason. Why? It is because if he had spoken, the truth would have come to the surface. He was simply a victim. And now, the schemers and accomplices are repeating the same MO. Who suggested to Yoon Seungho to say this to his lover? (chapter 104) Naturally, Kim, because he is now the only one in the mansion who knows his past. Besides, why do you think that the lord’s past is coming to the surface as a nightmare? It is because he was incited to repress everything. But since the painter is going through the same experiences, this is not surprising that the noble’s memory is triggered and the past emerges again.

Thus when I saw this image (chapter 105), I couldn’t restrain myself thinking of the lord and his past martyrdom. Keep in your mind that the artist share the same destiny with his lover. This means that a similar scene must have occurred in his youth: (chapter 27) Put yourself in the young man’s shoes. You suddenly witness how the whole family is moving houses and leaving you behind! This must have been terrible for Yoon Seungho. One might argue that Kim stayed by his side, so he was not alone. But it is false for 2 reasons. The white bearded servant had been working in the mansion (chapter 27), when the other domestics left the propriety. This was his memory. Besides, like the servant confessed to Jung In-Hun, a huge part of the staff got replaced. This means that the lord was suddenly surrounded by people he didn’t know. Because my theory is that the young man was treated as a male kisaeng, this signifies that the new staff could never view the main lead as a noble. Besides, despite the betrayal, the elder master and Yoon Seungwon were his real family. Finally, Yoon Seungho had no saying in this, and I can imagine that the reason for this decision was not explained immediately. This must have been a huge blow for him as well. He must have felt lost and homeless. The result was that from that moment on, he became more dependent on the butler. And we have to question ourselves what the butler did with this huge responsibility, when the elder master moved to the second house.

3. Ignorance and rumors

The lord and Heena assume that the painter has been able to repress this terrible night, and he knows nothing about the lord’s crime. But the moment whispers reach the painter’s ears, he can only feel terrible. (chapter 104) He is treated like a noble, while his lover is acting like a servant. Besides, is it true that the painter knows nothing? Let’s not forget that in the trailer, the manhwalovers discover the existence of a rumor circulating. But who is spreading the rumor and where? Since this phrase appears in connection with the staff (maids and servants) in the courtyard, I come to the conclusion that the authors of this gossip are in the domain. “Fellows” indicate that they are speaking among themselves. But I have two more clues proving that the traitors are the domestics. First, observe how they call the protagonist: Young Master Yoon. So far, people in town only calls the protagonist lord Yoon (chapter 45) (chapter 45) or lord Yoon Seungho (chapter 39) or my lord. (chapter 76) Only the staff addresses him as “young master”. (chapter 103) (chapter 103), and this since season 3. This coincides with the meddling of the Yoons. The servants treat him, as if he was not an adult, no real lord. But they are wrong, because he is wearing the topknot with the gat. Hence he is a lord. Finally, only people close to the couple could know about the painter’s tragedy. , because in the village and town, there exists another gossip: (chapter 104) Thus I conclude that the gossip from the trailer is spread among the staff on purpose. They wished Baek Na-Kyum to hear it so that he will feel responsible, especially after hearing this. He is responsible for the lord’s lunacy. Under this new perspective, it explains why the painter is leaving the bed and working. He wishes to prove the words wrong. On the other hand, I think that Yoon Seungho also heard a grapevine in the domain, but a different one: (trailer). “He has many enemies”. How did I come to this idea? It is because he is addressed as Yoon Seungho! By underlining the painter as his weakness, the author of this rumor wishes to separate the couple. If he were to place the painter elsewhere, not only the latter would no longer be targeted, but also the lord would have no longer any weakness. Since there is always a reflection within the same chapter, I conclude that a second grapevine was spread in episode 104. This happened, while the lord was away. Thus the painter smiled like a “fool”, when he saw the lord: (chapter 104) As you can imagine, for me the maids were the perpetrators, a new version of episode 79 (here, the woman implied that the artist was responsible for Yoon Seungho’s insomnia, thus the painter has a drop of sweat on his face, a sign for shame) and chapter 98 . To conclude, I don’t believe that the artist is ignorant. Besides, it is possible that he saw the trace of blood on his lover’s face, then remember what the servants told their master in the courtyard: (chapter 103) Finally, the staff has every reason to get rid of the artist, for he is the witness of their wrongdoings. They definitely played a major role in the “prank”. They didn’t learn their lesson.

But let’s return our attention to the comparison between 85 and 105. Both are also a reflection of episode 29, the scholar’s betrayal. The latter brought back the painter for his own selfish interests. (chapter 29) This time, the one smiling like a fool (chapter 29) was Jung In-Hun who acted, as if he knew nothing and had seen nothing. (chapter 29) However, I have already pointed out that he was present, when the rape took place, for he knew where Yoon Seungho would meet the artist: the pavilion. And what have all these episodes in common? The first thought would be to say: abandonment and betrayal. The painter in front of the gibang felt “betrayed” and abandoned, but what shocked the lord so much was when the artist started blaming himself: (chapter 105) He never expected this from his lover, as he desired to get the exact opposite. As you can see, the prayer “let’s go home” didn’t work, but the self-blaming had a much stronger effect. On the other hand, what made the lord change his mind was the reminder from the painter: their mutual love confession. (chapter 105) We have to imagine that the painter wanted to say that he regretted to have opened his heart to the protagonist. Thus he said this: (chapter 105) “I had known, I would have never confessed” Nonetheless, he never finished his phrase, for in reality, he had no regret!! He was sure that he had made the right decision. It is because he had pondered a long time about this. He had observed his lover. That’s the reason why he mentioned their mutual love confession and as such their promise to stay together. And this brings me to the next observation. All these scenes have another common denominator: BAD DECISIONS!! The lord had made the wrong decision to entrust the painter to the kisaengs. Thus he came to regret this. He had made his lover cry, and even wounded him, though he desired to do the opposite. Therefore it is not surprising that he apologized to his lover. (chapter 105) This shows that the painter is showing him what true love and loyalty are. Moreover, he is teaching to make good decisions.

But what is a good decision?

4. Good decision versus bad decision

I have to admit that the trigger for this essay was the new chapter from my beloved manhwa “Doctor Frost”. After reading the psychologist’s statement (chapter 246), I realized why Yoon Seungho suffered so much. Self-made decision implies a conscious choice. It is made deliberately and thoughtfully, considers and includes all relevant factors, is consistent with the individual’s philosophy and values. As you can see, it implies knowledge. This definition exposes that making a choice for the sake of another person without his consent or knowledge can never be a good decision. One might argue about this, because children are too young to make decisions. In Doctor Frost, this man (Doctor Frost 246) decided to support a terror attack, and justified this by saying that this was for his daughter’s sake. But like the counterpart pointed out, he questioned his decision. Was it truly his choice, or was he simply following the leader’s suggestion? As you can see, the daughter was used as an excuse, it was never for her sake. This shows that children are the exception, besides they are often raised by two parents. Thus they are making deliberations together. But like the author revealed in Twitter, Yoon Seungho’s mother hated her husband so much that she neglected her eldest son. The patriarch made decisions on his own, but observe that it was always for the Yoons’ sake. This means that the father never took his son’s well-being into consideration, he never asked him about his opinion. He imposed his will, but he listened to others, like we could see in different occasions. (chapter 57) He fed his son with the drug prescribed by the physician, though the latter stated that he had no idea about the illness. Then he listened to father Lee’s complains and reproaches. He never questioned the intentions behind his actions and words. (chapter 82) Here, the red-haired bearded man was encouraging the elder master Yoon to return to the mansion and claim his rights. Finally, the young master admitted this to the messenger: (chapter 80) If someone stroke his ego, he would follow their advice and never doubt their words.

Under this perspective, it becomes comprehensible why Yoon Seungho became the bird of misfortune. He became the scapegoat, for neither Kim nor Yoon Chang-Hyeon accepted to take their responsibility. They had made this decision for Yoon Seungho’s sake!! (chapter 77) Since it backfired, then the protagonist was responsible for everything. And this is what Kim has always been preaching in season 1, 2 and 3: it was the best for Yoon Seungho, or Baek Na-Kyum etc. Nonetheless, since he let others make the decision, he was able to escape “responsibility”, thus the elder master Yoon was blamed for everything. (chapter 86)

The butler’s interventions are based like this: It was for the painter’s sake, or for the lord’s sake, or for the elder master’s sake… One might argue that the valet questioned the lord’s decision to send the painter back to the gibang. (chapter 104) But he simply employed reverse psychology.

Reverse psychology is a manipulation technique that involves getting people to do something by prompting them to do the opposite. Reverse psychology can take various forms, such as forbidding the target behavior, questioning the person’s ability to perform the target behavior, and encouraging the opposite of the target behavior.” Quoted from https://effectiviology.com/reverse-psychology/

And this is what father Lee was doing too, when he visited Yoon Chang-Hyeon. Besides, we shouldn’t forget the power of the grapevines in the mansion. To conclude, making decisions for the sake of others can never be a good decision!! Therefore it becomes understandable why the painter’s request in the study was a bad choice in the end. (Chapter 85) Yoon Seungho was coerced to open up. If he did not, he wouldn’t be forgiven. Naturally, the painter meant it well, yet the main lead was pressured to reveal his „bad action“. The main lead feared his negative judgement and rejection. We could say that the artist had made this request for the lord’s sake, however this was not a conscious and long deliberated decision. And now, you comprehend why the main leads suffered both so much!! Yoon Seungho’s mother neglected her eldest son, but she kept her distance from her husband. They never talked to each other, and as such never made decisions together. And it was the same for the painter. The kisaeng Heena was the one who made the decision without the noonas’ consent and her brother‘s opinion.

5. Heena‘s bad decisions

Secondly, making decisions because you were manipulated, can not be considered a self-made decision. And what did Heena do? She made decisions for Baek Na-Kyum, but she never asked for her brother’s opinion or her colleagues. She made her decision based on her impressions and belief! (chapter46) Even in season 4, she has not changed her mind-set entirely. (chapter 105) She is still viewing the painter’s decision as a bad choice. But she is simply wrong, for the painter listened to her advice and after deliberations, he chose to open his heart. His confession was not made in the heat of the moment. (chapter 62) The lord’s vision (chapter 62) became a reality (chapter 105), though he never expected to be like that: a gaze full of pain and anxiety. To conclude, this night in the barn embodies “bad decisions”. Everything the lord did was under the influence of his unconscious. His abandonment issues clouded his judgement. Yet, despite everything, the noble made one good decision during that fateful night: he chose to never let the artist go!! (chapter 63) Because the painter has always been betrayed and abandoned himself too, such words could only move the artist. There was someone willing to be by his side and to give him a home. Therefore it is no coincidence that the artist brought up these words from that night. (chapter 105) They left a deep impression on Baek Na-Kyum.

But let’s return our attention to the head-kisaeng. (chapter 105) Note that she employed the expression “believe”. This is no coincidence, for it displays her narrow-mindedness. Finally, note that in episode 97, her conversation with her brother was truly a bad choice. She lied to Baek Na-Kyum, she was extremely stressed, scared and angry. (chapter 97) And why did she act like that? She justified that it was for the painter’s sake, and she knew more than her brother. The reality was that it was for her own sake. She was definitely cornered, for she feared repercussions. Moreover, she pushed her brother to follow her advice. And now look at what the noona said in front of Yoon Seungho:

Heena: “So Nakyum doesn’t know a thing? Thank god he didn’t see nor hear a thing about that awful matter”

She is glad that her brother didn’t witness her conversation with Min (chapter 99) and her “fake death”, but as you already know, I think, he heard her during that night. Note that the painter didn’t meet his noona Heena during that day. Since Heena and the staff played tricks so that Baek Na-Kyum ended up going to the scholar’s house, it is not surprising why the staff is putting the whole blame on the painter. However, who is responsible for this? Naturally, the staff, Kim and Heena. The latter made bad choices blinded by her arrogance and prejudices. Thus I deduce that Yoon Seungho learned a good lesson in front of the gibang. He should never make a decision without consulting his partner. (chapter 105) From my point of view, both need to learn to make decisions TOGETHER!! But in order to do so, the two main leads need to listen to each other and communicate. And this is what truly happened in episode 105. The young noble discovered the painter’s low self-esteem and his guilt. That’s the reason why I believe that Yoon Seungho will decide to talk about the scholar. The lord suspects the learned sir, for he thinks that he is still alive. (chapter 105) This signifies that the noble will decide not to follow the noona’s advice: (chapter 105) But by learning about the learned sir’s past, the protagonist will realize that he only knew a side about Jung In-Hun.

On the other hand, since the head-kisaeng agreed (chapter 105) with the noona’s statement, the painter looks happy with Yoon Seungho despite the tears, it looks like the noona is slowly coming to terms with her brother’s relationship. But I have to admit that I believe that her “decision” is just short-lived. First, in season 2, the noona had accepted to let her brother stay at the Yoons’ (chapter 69) But then she had changed her mind after hearing the menace from the servant. However, I have three other reasons to expect a change of heart from the head-kisaeng. First, Heena is the younger reflection of the butler. The manhwaphiles shouldn’t forget that the valet had almost come to terms with the painter’s presence (chapter 65), but the ruckus caused by the kisaeng had provoked a change of heart in the valet. Then, the lord had made the following condition to the kisaeng: (chapter 105) The lord is keeping his lover by his side, as long as nothing happens to him. So if he gets into trouble… she could achieve her goal, the painter is returned to her. But the most important clue is for me the bowl! (chapter 105) While many jumped to the conclusion that this was the medicine sent by the physician, I had a totally different impression. For me, this bowl was used to write a letter!! First, the color is different from the normal “medicine”. (chapter 23) Most of them look dark brown and not black. (chapter 36) (chapter 77) Besides, it never leaves traces on the edge. (chapter 36) The points on the border are the traces left by the brush. She wrote a letter. And I have another evidence for this: (chapter 36) The painter used white bowls while painting. On the other hand, the lord wrote a letter during that time. As you can see, in episode 36, we have the combination of painting, seduction (touching) and medicine… exactly like in episode 105. The artist tried to paint a lucky charm, a tiger, but he didn’t finish it. He got interrupted… which is very similar than in chapter 36. So the letter should represent another common denominator.

This means that Heena made the decision to write a letter before meeting Yoon Seungho and witnessing their interaction in front of the gibang. Finally, let’s not forget that the kisaeng was always brought up in connection with letters:

  • Chapter 68:
  • Chapter 69:
  • Chapter 91:
  • Chapter 97:

Naturally, I can not guarantee 100% this theory… besides, I can not tell the content and the recipient of this message. And if this theory is correct, the head-kisaeng did something which will have repercussions about her „decision“: let the painter live with Yoon Seungho. This means that she will be forced to question her past decision. Was it made deliberately and thoughtfully, did she consider and include all relevant factors, or did she act based on her instincts? In my eyes, Heena has always made such decisions. Every choice was based on hunch, but more precisely influenced by her prejudices and fears. Thus she is projecting her MO (chapter 105) onto Yoon Seungho. Will she come to regret her action or not? One thing is sure, the painter accepted the sincere apology from his lover. How could he not forgive him after calling „Nakyumah“ and embracing him! (Chapter 105) (chapter 105) Both left the gibang together, while the artist was removing his tears. And this leads me to the final observation.

By forcing the painter to remain silent about the last incident, the schemers and accomplices are not realizing that their actions will bring light to Yoon Seungho‘s suffering and its origins. In other words, by burying one truth, they are digging another grave… the secrets from the first past!! (Chapter 76) By making the same decisions, it is not surprising that the same deed can never succeed. It was not a real self-made decision. They simply followed a pattern.

Feel free to comment. If you have any suggestion for topics or manhwas, feel free to ask. If you enjoyed reading it, retweet it or push the button like. My Reddit-Instagram-Tumblr-Twitter account is: @bebebisous33. Thanks for reading and for the support, particularly, I would like to thank all the new followers and people recommending my blog.

Painter Of The Night: The shadowy plot(s) 👀 from the past 🙊

This is where you can read the manhwa. https://www.lezhinus.com/en/comic/painter But be aware that this manhwa is a mature Yaoi, which means, it is about homosexuality with explicit scenes. If you want to read more essays, here is the link to the table of contents:  https://bebebisous33analyses.wordpress.com/2020/07/04/table-of-contents-painter-of-the-night

It would be great if you could make some donations/sponsoring: Ko-fi.com/bebebisous33  That way, you can support me with “coffee” so that I have the energy to keep examining manhwas. Besides, I need to cover up the expenses for this blog.

There is a reason why I selected the illustration of season 4 for this essay, though my focus is the past, and more precisely Yoon Seungho’s suffering. It is because the darkness surrounding the protagonist not only refers to his tragic youth, but also it reflects the situation of the manhwalovers. The latter are still in the dark concerning his torment. His terrible secrets have not been totally unveiled. So far, the author allowed the readers to see glimpses of his past, like f. ex. the gangrape or the suicide of his mother. But these were just small pieces of the puzzle, thus it is still impossible to have a complete picture of his martyrdom. There are many reasons for this. The main victim never testified about his suffering, he refused to open up to Baek Na-Kyum. (chapter 84) Then many witnesses vanished (chapter 86) or the ones alive preferred telling lies in order to hide their own wrongdoings or are simply in denial about their own culpability. Finally, the victim, the perpetrators and accomplices had no idea about the whole truth. They only know or knew certain facts, because many of them were deceived as well. What exactly happened to Yoon Seungho? How could this take place, though he belonged to one of the most powerful noble families? Now, you are probably expecting that I will give you answers to all these questions, and recreate the past. But I have to admit that it is not possible, for I don’t know the whole chronology. Consequently, I added “shadowy” in the title. To conclude, my real intention is more to offer new pieces from the riddle than create a whole new “story”. The main source for this new insight is the painter’s fate which is a reflection from the noble’s past and torment. This means that Byeonduck left traces in season 1, 2 and 3! That’s how I discovered that he had been abandoned and betrayed by everyone, kidnapped, treated as a male kisaeng, robbed, abused, raped and even gangraped at least twice, tortured and finally drugged! But like mentioned above, it is difficult to give the proper order and the persons truly involved in the crimes. On the other hand, what I can guarantee is that Yoon Seungho’s nightmare is linked to conspiracies. I came to this conclusion, because if you compare all the seasons, you will detect the presence of plots. There exists at least 3 main plots in each season, though there definitely exist more. The conspiracies are all connected to incidents.

1. The conspiracies

To validate my theory, I will use the first season as an example. The incident with the ruined drawing was actually initiated by Min and his friend with the mole. Black Heart had slapped his friend (chapter 9), so that the latter visited Lee Jihwa to arouse his jealousy. It was to push him to commit a crime so that Baek Na-Kyum would be removed from the main lead’s side. As you can see, there were 3 people involved, though the readers only saw the result. (chapter 12) They had the impression that the red-haired master had acted on his own. However, he had been manipulated, incited to commit a crime. But my point is not to diminish his wrongdoing, rather to expose the involvement of the schemers. Hence at the end of season 1, the author unveiled their true role and as such their identities. (chapter 43) However, observe that when Lee Jihwa went to the pavilion, the noble with the mole had other guests. 2 nobles left the place, as they refused to participate in a murder. (chapter 43) Funny is that they are now witnesses of Min’s crime. This can have repercussions in season 4. Black Heart had been the one who had suggested the assassination to Lee Jihwa. And the aristocrats were still there, when he had made this proposition. (chapter 43) But the two empty seats also serve as a metaphor for the existence of other helping hands: Kim and No-Name! The latter was about to get hired by the young master. Hence I deduce that this scene was to display the existence of accomplices who had always been acting in the shadow. Or we could say that the number of conspirators increased! However, I would like to point out the existence of a second conspiracy: the stolen wine. (chapter 19) And this is related to Kim and the gibang. Yet, the butler ruined Black Heart’s plan. To conclude, we have two main plotters in season 1, but the butler’s bad intentions were not detected, for Yoon Seungho’s bad actions were more eye-catching. People had the impression that the valet was defending the artist’s best interest. From my point of view, the number of persons involved in the plot kept increasing, as they needed more and more accomplices. The reason is that their plans didn’t work out like expected. At the end of season 3, Min involved the kisaengs in the gibang, while Kim asked the assistance of the staff, the maids (chapter 91) and the servants (chapter 97). Thus I deduce that in the past, the same must have happened. Many people were involved in the downfall of Yoon Seungho and his family. But who was the real target in the end? It is difficult to say with 100% certainty.

While Min serves as a reflection from the main mastermind in the past, his actions are not entirely clear. Note that he kept changing his mind and heart. On the one hand, he wished to have the painter killed, then later to have the young artist by his side as a source of entertainment. Yet, there is no doubt that he wished to have sex with Baek Na-Kyum right from the start. (chapter 8) Thus in season 2, he came to this resolution: (chapter 56) He had planned to rape him before having him eliminated. This shows his inner conflict. From my point of view, the painter’s death is connected to the incident in the gibang. (chapter 1) Baek Na-Kyum was a witness of Min’s wrongdoing, just like the painter was a witness and victim of his crimes in the shrine. (chapter 99) One thing is sure: Min was full of greed and jealousy. He was determined to harm and ruin Yoon Seungho. Hence I come to the deduction that the real target of the conspiracy in the past was Yoon Chang-Hyeon. And his son was used against him.

Interesting is that in the first season, the plots were not obvious, except one: the painter’s murder! The conspiracies only came to light, when the readers paid attention to details. The best example is the incident with the open door: (chapter 16) This doesn’t look like a crime. However, it is one! It was done on purpose, to separate the couple. Someone had intervened in order to interrupt this session, and as such someone had been spying on them. Deok-Jae only revealed his spying activity from chapter 16 in season 2: (chapter 53) Yet, the one opening the door had been Kim. This gesture can be considered as trespassing and invasion of privacy, the new version of this scene. (chapter 16) But instead of revealing the truth, the butler sided with Lee Jihwa, and allowed him to trespass the propriety again. In my eyes, the butler thought (chapter 17) that Yoon Seungho would come to perceive the painter as a man consumed by lust. He imagined that he would caught them fooling around. As you can see, this ruckus was also a plot, though it doesn’t look like one. Why would the maids gossip in the courtyard? (chapter 18) From my point of view, the valet expected that the lord would fear people’s gaze and a scandal. Thus he would send away the painter to protect his “reputation”, but the opposite happened. Under this perspective, the manhwalovers can grasp why it is difficult to calculate accurately the number of plots and accomplices. Besides, some were naïve pawns, others not. And since I examined the first season more closely, it is necessary to analyze the vanishing of Jung In-Hun. His disappearance is strongly intertwined with Yoon Seungho’s secret. How so? The learned sir was determined to find the lord’s vulnerability and as such secret.

2. The scholar’s disappearance

Many readers have the impression that the learned sir is still alive, for they never saw his corpse or his execution. Since they had somehow witnessed Jung In-Hun’s departure, they knew that the learned sir could not have been killed in his humble home. I had already detected very early on, like other manhwaphiles, that the murder scene had been staged. (chapter 88) Thus many readers jumped to the conclusion that the learned sir had already switched sides and was plotting against the main lead. They had his following words in their mind: (chapter 29) Thus many concluded that he had participated in the prank, faking his death. On the other hand, the manhwalovers believed to have seen Heena’s death! (chapter 99) However, observe that we never saw her corpse. She was still alive in this panel. I had already pointed out that her murder was actually faked. Her mouth was not covered, hence she could have screamed, but she remained silent (blank speech bubble). Secondly, she never moved her legs… contrary to Yoon Seungho’s behavior in the gibang. (chapter 68) That’s the reason why I came to the conclusion that Heena’s curtains didn’t take place. Hence I deduced that in the past, someone’s death must have been “faked” too and this vanishing must have affected the main lead’s fate. The other deduction is that the learned sir must be “dead”, as the author is working with positive and negative reflections. I had already presented this theory in two different compositions (“That day” and “The secret behind the library“) However, for each murder, the culprit must have a strong motive. For me, the mastermind behind his death is the pedophile himself. This man, (chapter 37) who is the king in my eyes. [For more read the essay “The face of lord Song“]

3. The reasons for the assassination

Why would he eliminate the learned sir? In the past, I had said that he had ordered it out of jealousy. He believed that Jung In-Hun had become Yoon Seungho’s lover, for his brother had mistaken his identity. (chapter 37) Since Baek Na-Kyum was wearing a hanbok, Yoon Seung-Won thought that the person hidden under the hanbok was no commoner! Thus he called him a fellow. However, this motive is quite thin! Yet, two new details caught my attention. His visit to the “fake shaman” and his request. Notice what he told the man:(chapter 29) He was announcing to the dark haired man his true intention. He desired to abandon and betray Yoon Seungho the moment he reached the first place in the civil service examination. He saw him as a burden. This is important, because his words represent a confession of his “sin”!! The scholar was admitting to the commoner that once he reached the first place, he would cut off his ties with the protagonist. But actually, the latter is connected to the pedophile. It was, as if he was saying that he would betray the king, for the young main lead is close to the king. On the other hand, he needed to reach the first place for this. And now, you have the explanation why he got killed. He needed to vanish, before he participated in the next round! The mysterious lord Song needed to remove him, before Jung reached the first place and betrayed his “lover”. In a certain way, the man could justify his action that he has been protecting Yoon Seungho from a future betrayal. However, there is no ambiguity that the true motive was jealousy. But he had naturally another motivation. It was important that the lord’s past never came to light either, as his secret was strongly intertwined with the ruler’s past actions. To conclude, the pedophile had every reason to order his assassination. But he was not the only one behind his death. Other people had an interest in this crime as well.

Jung In-Hun’s ”dream” stands in opposition to Yoon Seungwon‘s statement who somehow promised his father that he would reach first place. That’s the reason why the father boasted in the bedchamber. (chapter 86) However, in reality, he was relying on the king’s help and intervention. And this confession to the “fake shaman” represents the learned sir’s karma. He had asked the painter to act like a spy (chapter 24), not realizing that he could be spied himself! He didn’t grasp that he exposed his weakness to the commoner: the civil service examination. Thus the man had constantly drops of sweat on his face and interrogated Jung In-Hun. (chapter 29) The girl was there to create a certain closeness. He was acting like Kim, asking why! But the stupid and arrogant learned sir thought that because the man was a commoner, he was ignorant and could be manipulated like the painter! (chapter 29) He thought that the low-born would buy his lie here… but in my eyes, it was the opposite. He had already perceived the learned sir’s true nature. But he acted, as if he was agreeing. In other words, the scholar fell into his own trap. He envisioned that the man was “powerless”, but he overlooked his connections. The manhwalovers can see the contradiction, for he had approached the man due to his connections! .As you can see, I am more than ever convinced that the scholar has long been murdered. He was betrayed, exactly like he had planned to abandon Yoon Seungho! The pedophile must have heard from the servant about Jung’s plan, as he had confided it to the worker!!

Thus the man decided to meet Jung In-Hun himself, and give him a warning. He described the Yoons as powerless due to the purge. (chapter 37) But this doesn’t end here. (chapter 37) Yoon Chang-Hyeon was portrayed as a traitor! The “fake servant” implied with his statement that there was a conspiracy, and the patriarch was involved. But in exchange to save his own skin, he had tattled on the others! He was trying to insinuate that if Jung In-Hun interacted more with the Yoons, his reputation could get tainted. He could get suspected of “treason” too, or he could get betrayed too. While the man met the learned sir during the day, the brother went to the villa in a hurry during the night. (chapter 37) So it looked like the “scholar” had not grasped the warning. And if Yoon Seungwon had been informed about the content of the conversation between the learned sir and the “fake shaman”, it is not surprising that he rushed to his brother’s side. He could use this opportunity to warn him about a betrayal. However, he couldn’t do it so, because he imagined that the learned sir was present. This would explain this image: (chapter 36) Hence he chose a different approach: filial duty. And the brother’s observation could only corroborate the pedophile’s perception. The scholar was Yoon Seungho’s lover, but he was also a backstabber. But let’s return our attention to the “mysterious lord Song”‘s statement: Yoon Chang-Hyeon is a denunciator, not a man of honor. (chapter 37) Due to his denunciation and crime, he had to leave the mansion so suddenly leaving the protagonist behind. That’s what the old bearded man implied here. However, I believe that this declaration is a mixture of truth and lie! That’s how I could make the sudden connection: (Chapter 67) Lee Jihwa had not only been denunciated, but he had been confronted by his friend! And the traitor was right by his side. As you can see, chapter 67 was a reflection from episode 37!! These two episodes have another common denominator: the betrayer had made the following suggestion. (chapter 67) In exchange for his “survival”, he should help Black Heart and allow him to act on his behalf. This was the new plan. That’s how he started impersonating Lee Jihwa. That’s the reason why I come to the conclusion that in the past, the impersonation must have happened, but it took place in the beginning. Secondly, I am assuming that a traitor must have suggested to Yoon Chang-Hyeon to leave the mansion and abandon his son behind! (chapter 27) And who is it? For me, it is Kim acting on the pedophile’s behalf. Striking is that in episode 27, the learned sir escaped death thanks to the intervention of the old bearded domestic and Baek Na-Kyum. Thus it came to my mind that the pedophile could even claim that he had eliminated the learned sir, because Yoon Seungho had attempted himself to kill him in the past. He had acted on his behalf. And what do have all these chapters have in common? SPYING and tattling! In episode 27, the servant unveiled a part of the past, (chapter 27) Someone had tattled on the Yoons in the past, but the patriarch was turned into the traitor himself which the young main lead came to believe. Thus Yoon Seungho could say this to his father: (chapter 86) However, I am suspecting that this is not true, someone else tattled on the powerful family and made a false accusation! As you can imagine, I am inclined to think that father Lee must have been behind this! Why? It is because he can no longer do it! Thus in season 3, he approached the patriarch Yoon. (chapter 82) If the lord Seungho had truly committed a crime, he should have reported it to the authorities. The stupid Yoon Chang-Hyeon never wondered why the elder Lee visited him during the night and asked for his assistance. Furthermore, the elder Lee had been allowed to enter the bedchamber and see the huge drawing which could have been perceived as a sign of treason. He was eyeing at the throne. (chapter 82) Note that the aristocrat mentioned “punishment” in this context. So maybe, he denunciated the patriarch so that the whole family would get punished. Father Lee was definitely played in this scene, hence I believe that someone had already anticipated his reactions. He would seek revenge. But this doesn’t end here. I had connected “rash departure” to “treason and spying”. And now, observe what Yoon Seungho said to his butler (chapter 50) He had sent Jung In-Hun away in order to get rid of him! However, because of the expression “I thought”, I am quite certain that this idea had been suggested to him by the valet! I would like to underline that in this episode, the valet was acting as a tattler! (chapter 50) But in order to hide his own crime, he portrayed it as a rumor (It may not be accurate”). This truly underlines the butler’s MO. He used information and turned it as gossips to hide his spying activities. The shadow… Simultaneously, he turned gossips into a verity!! This is no coincidence that in season 3, the same method was employed. Yoon Seungho was supposed to have murdered the scholar and Deok-Jae! My avid readers can sense the leitmotiv in all these episodes. RUMORS are turned into a reality, and as such a CRIME! Even here… (chapter 37) (chapter 37) But Kim is not the only spy and traitor! The younger brother Seungwon is also one! Thus he was introduced in the same chapter. And I have an irrefutable evidence that the old bearded man was in contact with the younger master. Only recently, I realized that the man never mentioned the protagonist’s name, he just said “this one”. This idiom implies that there is another one!!! This is the evidence that he was in contact with Yoon Seungwon. Finally, why would the man talk about the elder master Yoon the entire time? It is, because technically Yoon Seungho is just the elder son. This means that the pedophile never officially gave the title to the protagonist. These were empty words. (chapter 86) But since our beloved man started living in the bedchamber, this became a reality. That’s the other reason why Yoon Seungho was encouraged to live in debauchery and not to take the civil service examination. But this only occurred, the moment the lord returned living in the mansion and not before!! Secondly, I realized that this statement about Yoon Chang-Hyeon will become a reality for the “fake servant” himself. (chapter 37) Not only he justified his return to the familial domain with the main lead’s lunacy (“under the pretense of some problem with this one”), but also he accused his own son of a crime. (chapter 94) This means that he acted as a traitor, tattling on his own relative. Finally, observe that once confronted with brutal reality, the father did run away. (chapter 87) The white bearded man’s words became a reality. However, since the fake servant, the mysterious lord Song, judges the elder master Yoon as a troublemaker and hypocrite, there is no ambiguity that the elder master Yoon will get into trouble. Since he did it in the past, he can only get suspected in the present.

Besides, because the scholar is now dead, the pedophile can only put the whole blame on someone else refusing to become responsible for this. He has always acted in the shadow. We have three possibilities: he puts the blame on Yoon Seungwon, and say that he had done it out of jealousy. Or Yoon Chang-Hyeon had intervened, because Jung represented an hindrance to the Yoons’ dream. Besides, he was supposed to stay in the mansion in Hanyang, and that’s where the rest of the family is living. (chapter 86) But the worst would be that the painter is blamed for his assassination. He did it out of resent! But this would expose the true thoughts of the schemers, the pedophile and Kim. That’s how they act, when they feel offended and bothered.

Striking is that the protagonist has no idea, that the banishment was staged, for he was told the same lie. In his mind, the father lives in exile.: (chapter 37) One thing is sure: the father’s dream will turn out to be an illusion. For me, the younger brother’s biggest wrongdoings are spying, tattling and badmouthing. And the best evidence for this interpretation is this situation: (chapter 44) He had given the ruined painting to his father, putting the blame on his brother, well aware that the latter would get angry. He was observing his father’s reaction. (chapter 44) Yet, there is a difference to the past. Here, he had been fooled! He truly believed that this was his brother’s doing, whereas in truth the butler had been the one who had fooled him. (chapter 38) And this is important, because when the letter was given to the brother, Jung In-Hun witnessed the wrongdoing from the butler!! (chapter 38) And now, you know why the learned sir had to die!! He had caught the valet in the act. He had betrayed Yoon Seungho, though he didn’t realize it. The learned sir tried to discover the content of the letter, and as such was prying on his sponsor’s weakness.(chapter 38) Hence I come to the conclusion that KIM played a huge role in the learned sir’s death as well. I would even say that he was the one who pushed the others to have the scholar and the painter killed. Both knew about the butler’s tricks without realizing his significance. (chapter 37) Hence I deduce that as the story progressed, the role of the butler started changing. Now, I see him as a the main plotter, while all the others are now his pawns. We could say that the valet has gradually followed the pedophile’s path. However, there is no ambiguity that it was not the same in the past!

4. A new plot

I am quite certain that many manhwalovers are doubting my theory that the fake servant is the king and the main culprit in Yoon Seungho’s nightmare. Why? It is because in chapter 83, we saw a dark haired man, and according to Lee Jihwa, this was the mysterious lord Song. (chapter 83) How can he be the same than the one from episode 37? The change of his hair color could be explained by a huge shock. But this is rather thin as a justification. Besides, now I am more inclined to think that these are two different persons, and that the main culprit is the one from episode 37. Why? It is because he smoked and utilized the same expression: “strange”. (chapter 37) An idiom that Yoon Seungho constantly utilized: chapter 16, chapter 21, chapter 50, chapter 71 (chapter 71). This means that he couldn’t understand, for he has a different way of thinking. This outlines his narrow-mindedness and his tendency to plan everything. He doesn’t like surprises.

Since the readers saw the hanbok and the beard, they imagine that he is the main culprit. But I would like the readers to keep in mind that Baek Na-Kyum’s fate is the clue about the main lead’s suffering. And how many people desired to have him by their side? TWO! Yoon Seungho and Min…. and we could say that both kidnapped the artist! The main lead did it in episode 1, and the other in episode 99! This means that Yoon Seungho should have two main sexual abusers in the past! However, in difference to the young lord, the painter only had sex with the main lead. Min always failed to taste him! That’s the reason why I am suspecting that the man from chapter 83 could represent the “first sexual abuser”. Besides, observe that he is not smoking! (chapter 83)

Because we saw the purple hanbok, we all imagined that he was representing the king or was connected to the palace. But is it true? Notice that one of the guests only has a moustache beard (chapter 83) which is actually connected to commoners. [For more read the essay “Painful departures“] Remember that Min tried to deceive people by wearing a similar hanbok which Lee Jihwa would often wear. (chapter 69) Hence I started wondering if the mysterious man with the beard was not impersonating someone, for example “lord Song” and in reality he was just a merchant. Why merchant? It is related to the shungas and the hanboks. The king can not be involved in trading directly. However, this is what Yoon Seungho told to the learned sir: (chapter 22) Nevertheless, the main lead could have never been involved in commerce, for he lived as a prisoner for many years. And this is what was said about the ruler: (chapter 76) He is not so wealthy. How come? Yoon Seungho’s fortune must have a different origin.

Besides, I would like to outline that when Min was facing the ghost Yoon Seungho, he denied his responsibility by putting the blame on the childhood friend: (chapter 102) Min had never predicted that the young master would run to his friend and denunciate him to Yoon Seungho. However, since Black Heart had employed the assistance of servants (chapter 101) , the kisaengs (chapter 95) (chapter 96), the officer (chapter 98), No-Name, the doctor with the drugs and butler Kim, this signifies that behind the name Lee Jihwa stand many people! As you can see, the name “lord Song” doesn’t refer to one person, but many… My theory is that No-Name is the true owner of the title, but that’s how he ended up losing his home and his name! That’s the reason why I believe that in this image (chapter 83), we only see one of many persons hiding behind the name “lord Song”. To conclude, I came to the theory that the men from chapter 37 and 83 are both “lord Song”, though the one from episode 37 can only be the king. But if the man in episode 83 was impersonating lord Song, and as such was dressed up as a royal, he was actually violating laws.

I would like to point out that Min had three goals, not only to ruin Yoon Seungho, but also to get rid of Baek Na-Kyum and Lee Jihwa. Why? It is because he had framed them for the incident in the gibang. (chapter 1) Furthermore, Lee Jihwa could testify that Black Heart was the mastermind of the murder. Thus I deduce that in the past, the mastermind must have had three intentions as well:

  • remove Yoon Chang-Hyeon from his son’s side. That way, he could outlive his sexual fantasies. (chapter 50)
  • ruin the Yoons which represented a thorn to his power, hence the young man was incited to hate and blame his father.
  • get rid of all the potential witnesses and accomplices.

We shouldn’t overlook that Min used to be the main lead’s sexual partner too. Hence we could say that he was trying to get rid of a former lover and potential rival! That’s why I can’t help myself thinking that the man in purple could have been fooled himself. (chapter 83) Here, he was smiling… but don’t forget that in this story, karma always retaliates immediately! The best example is the scholar who wished to discover the noble’s secret, but didn’t realize that his vulnerability and intentions were revealed. In episode 83, this smiling man tried to drive an edge between the two childhood friends, and he could definitely witness how the two sons entered the room before the arrival of the elders! Therefore his punishment should have been separation as well. (chapter 83) The main lead was slapped and called animal, hence there is no ambiguity that at some point, the man must have suffered as well, unless he let others take the fall for him. We know for sure that the main lead was tortured, and as such arrested for a crime he didn’t commit! Besides, I would like the manhwaworms to keep in mind the importance of cosplay and “coup de théâtre”. We had the perfect illustration in chapter 37, (chapter 71) chapter 87) and episode 92. The schemers in the past had definitely played with illusions and tricks. Thus I am expecting that it is now the pedophile’s turn to get fooled.

One possibility is that father Lee denunciated the Yoons saying that they were planning a coup d’Etat, and had already selected a new king. And don’t forget that he was wearing clothes that was indicating that he belonged to the royal family!! Thus his identity could have been mistaken. To conclude, for me, the man with the purple hanbok represents the reason why Yoon Seungho suffered. This led to the purge of the noble families close to the Yoons. But since the real “lord Song” had allowed people to use his name, he became the culprit for all the wrongdoings committed by others. Hence he lost everything. (chapter 82)

5. The poisoning

Another possibility is that the man with the purple hanbok got poisoned, and Yoon Seungho was framed for the man’s death or injury. I am suspecting a poisoning incident in the past. If it didn’t take place during that fateful night/day (chapter 83), then it definitely must have taken place before. But how did I come to this conclusion? According to my observations, karma always retaliates right away, though the “wrongdoer” has no idea, as the person doesn’t see the connection between the “punishment” and the sin. But I would like to point out that in each season, we had poisoning. (chapter 36) Here, the painter was forced to take an aphrodisiac under the pretense of his health. This action was repeated in season 2 (chapter 54) and 3. (chapter 100) The nobles made him smoke opium or drink the aphrodisiac. The purpose of such drugs is to obtain the painter’s submission and control his mind and reactions. Striking is that each time, the perpetrators were “punished”. Kim was insulted and his plan didn’t work out. (chapter 37) As for the young lords, they were evicted like commoners and later the others were even killed. As you can see, each time the poison was employed, there was a retaliation.

But note that in season 2, Deok-Jae had put stones in the painter’s rice. (chapter 47) (chapter 47) If the painter had not eaten with the lord, the latter would have never noticed the incident. However, he believed the maids’ words. (chapter 47) Hence he never investigated the matter. But this prank represented a serious issue. This could have been judged as an attempt against the owner of the mansion. (chapter 47) And now look at this panel: (chapter 83) Yoon Seungho had refused to take the drug! The bowl reminded me of the one from chapter 47! Finally, the butler had tried to give his master the drug in season 3 (chapter 77), but the latter had again rejected it and this twice. (chapter 77) Kim calls the drug “medicinal tea”, truly an euphemism. It is also possible that the real target of the poisoning was Yoon Seungho, but since he was protected by the gods, someone ended up taking the “drug”. Because he was wearing a purple hanbok, the investigator mistook his identity, a royal member. Hence the Yoons were suspected of treason. Don’t forget that during this party, there was a kisaeng by their side. (chapter 83) And the latter are trained to cook dishes for the clients. My avid readers are certainly recalling that since season 2, I have been waiting for a poisoning incident which became a reality at the end of season 3. Thus I come to the conclusion, that such an incident should be shown in season 4, one in the past and the other in the present.

To conclusion, since many people were hiding behind the name “lord Song”, it became a taboo. However, as the king had achieved all his goals thanks to this name, (chapter 56), he came to adopt this title in order to hide his identity and actions. Byeonduck explained in her notes that Baek Na-Kyum had no idea about Min’s name. And this is the same for Yoon Seungho. The pedophile could continue hiding behind “lord Song”, as the latter was blamed for everything. The pedophile could divert attention from his own tricks. That’s the reason why he would never write any letter to Yoon Seungho under this name. This means that at the end, the main culprit, the king, will be perceived as the main responsible for Yoon Seungho’s torment, similar to Min’s situation, just before got killed. Though many other people were involved, Yoon Seungho was able to judge the joker’s actions correctly, he was the main mastermind behind the plots. This explicates why the gods made Yoon Seungho forget the old bearded men’s face. (chapter 44) This was a blessing in disguise. The moment the main lead faces the king, Yoon Seungho will be able perceive the truth. The king was behind his torment, and the butler had been his helping hand all along, the professional spy planted in his family. However, I don’t think that the monarch will admit his crimes and apologize for his wrongdoings. He will need a scapegoat, and this can only be the butler, the only one who knows the truth!

Feel free to comment. If you have any suggestion for topics or manhwas, feel free to ask. If you enjoyed reading it, retweet it or push the button like. My Reddit-Instagram-Tumblr-Twitter account is: @bebebisous33. Thanks for reading and for the support, particularly, I would like to thank all the new followers and people recommending my blog.

Painter Of The Night: Juicy Deeds🤝 and Dry Words 🗯

Please support the authors by reading the manhwas on the official websites. This is where you can read the manhwa. https://www.lezhinus.com/en/comic/painter But be aware that this manhwa is a mature Yaoi, which means, it is about homosexuality with explicit scenes. If you want to read more essays, here is the link to the table of contents:  https://bebebisous33analyses.wordpress.com/2020/07/04/table-of-contents-painter-of-the-night

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I am quite certain that people are wondering about the connection between the title and the illustration. In the latter, we have Baek Na-Kyum’s hand holding Yoon Seungho‘s. Yet there is neither word nor sex in the panel, for both are still dressed and there is no speech bubble. Yes, when people read juicy deeds, they were already imagining that I would describe a love session like this one (chapter 96), because of the expression „to do the deed“: (chapter 87) However, the deed is not just related to intercourse, like the manhwaphiles could discover it in chapter 51. With „deed“, Deok-Jae was referring to murder and assassination. As you can see, deed has other meanings than sex. Thus it has for synonyms action, accomplishment and reality!! So when I selected this name for the essay, I was thinking of the relationship between action and word. And this connection came to my mind, when Byeonduck released the last picture, because the painter’s action symbolizes a conversation and as such words.

1. Interpretation of the newest release

As my avid readers already know, it is already possible to understand the symbolism behind this picture by contrasting it to similar gestures. Because the painter‘s hand is above the noble‘s hand, I deduce that the artist was the one initiating the touch. Note that he is intertwining his fingers with Yoon Seungho‘s indicating that he is seeking closeness and intimacy. This detail is important, for the hand is conveying a message: „I feel you. I understand you. I am by your side.“ How do I know this? It is because this gesture corresponds to this one from chapter 88:

1. 1. Reflection from chapter 88

(Chapter 88) By reaching his hand, the painter was letting him know that he was no longer alone in this world. He was not only joining his side, but he was willing to try to understand the main lead. (Chapter 88) This gesture stands in opposition to the situation with Yoon Chang-Hyeon. (Chapter 86) During that fateful night, the father neither talked to his son nor looked at him. He even turned his back to him, when the young master attempted to grab his father‘s hanbok. Both scenes from chapter 88 and 86 have two common denominators: an action accompanied with silence!! Yet, what distinguishes them from each other is the nature of the deed, the action. Alliance and empathy versus abandonment and estrangement! This is no coincidence that after reaching his hand, Baek Na-Kyum started confessing his thoughts and emotions to his lover: (Chapter 88) As you can sense, the hand gesture delivered a message, but the painter still felt the need to clarify the meaning of his hand. He was willing to remain by his side, but he was still afraid of him. He didn’t want to create a misunderstanding, like for example that he wouldn’t argue with him or that his loyalty was now unconditional or total. That way, Yoon Seungho wouldn’t come to view him as a hypocrite or as dishonest, if an argument would appear. Thus he needed words to explain his position. He would remain by his side and attempt to sympathize with him, but he still felt insecure and had doubts. In other words, his action (his hand gesture) was not truly reflecting his mind and heart. (Chapter 88) Hence we could say that there was still a gap between the gesture and the words. He was willing to trust him and to be loyal to him, but not all the doubts had vanished. That’s the reason why the lord hesitated before hugging him. (Chapter 88) Later he even asked his lover not to leave his side no matter what. (Chapter 88) To conclude, the hand gesture in episode 88 was connected to insecurities and as such fear, yet the painter had shown no hesitation to take his hand. The anxiety was not visible.

1. 2. The hand and anxiety

Striking is that when the painter had reached Yoon Seungho’s hand for the first time, his hand was trembling. He was so scared of the main lead that he didn’t dare to take his whole hand. (Chapter 30) His fingers barely grabbed his hand, so when he made the following vow, he was not entirely sincere or better said, truly determined to keep his promise. (Chapter 30) The words were not truly in unison with the gesture either. Therefore he once tried to leave the mansion in season 2. When he pledged loyalty, his intention was to protect his teacher. To conclude, fear has always been present, when the painter took Yoon Seungho’s hand. Even in chapter 88, but contrary to the scene in the courtyard, his hand was not shaking. (Chapter 88) Why? It is because the origin of his fright was different. In the courtyard, he feared for his life and Jung In-Hun’s, whereas in the bedchamber, he was more afraid of the lord’s flashbacks and dissociative states. He had no idea why Yoon Seungho could change so much abruptly to the point that he would hurt himself, not just him. (Chapter 82) This explicates why the artist chose to remain by his side, though the lord had broken his promise. (Chapter 82) On the other hand, in this scene (chapter 82), the lord was grabbing his lover’s hand out of fear. He was recognizing his mistake and was trying to beg for his forgiveness, though he couldn’t express it directly. Striking is that during the lord’s flashback, his hand was trembling as well, grabbing onto his partner’s body. (Chapter 81) It was, as if Baek Na-Kyum was his rescue buoy, helping him not to be swallowed by the darkness. Thus I came to the conclusion that the protagonists’ hand gestures are all connected to anxiety and pain. 😲 Hence I am deducing that in this scene, Baek Na-Kyum is holding his lover’s hand, for he has already sensed the noble’s doubts and insecurities. He is there to comfort and reassure him. He won’t leave his side no matter what. Therefore I deduce that such a gesture can only encourage Yoon Seungho to open up and reveal his traumatic past. This is something that Baek Na-Kyum had always wished in season 3, nonetheless his wish never got granted.

1. 3. Reflection of chapters 97 and 98

And note that Baek Na-Kyum was unconscious, when Yoon Seungho had a flashback and was sent back to the past. (Chapter 102). This would have definitely scared Baek Na-Kyum, especially Yoon Seungho’s haunted gaze. On the other hand, since the painter had been himself the victim of physical and sexual abuse, the artist can only grasp why the noble reacted that way: fear, anger, despair and heartache. The artist had also been desperate, in pain and scared in the shrine, though this time, he had not screamed for his help. Since the lord had not returned to the mansion, how could he expect him to come to his rescue?

From my point of view, the lord has to explain the reason for his behavior from that night, he committed a massacre. Since the couple is in the bedchamber, I come to the conclusion that this image is linked to the painter‘s nightmare too. (Chapter 98) Back then, he had been waiting for his lover‘s return and explanations. He wanted to hear him and get his reassurance and comfort. . (Chapter 98) The latter couldn’t reassure the painter with his hand contrary to the previous night. (chapter 97) Exactly like mentioned above, the painter’s hand gesture is connected to fear and conversation. (chapter 97) Striking is that in the gibang, the lord confessed his biggest fear to his future “spouse”. He feared to lose him, though one of his biggest desires had been finally fulfilled. This means that Yoon Seungho felt even more insecure and frightened than before after receiving the artist’s love confession. That’s the reason why I believe that the new picture is standing in opposition to the scene in the gibang. The lord will feel relief after his admission. As a conclusion, the image is announcing the lord’s confession and the artist will listen to him without any judgement or fear. He will never reject him or call him crazy due to his past action.

1. 4. Reflection of chapter 89

What caught my attention is that the painter had touched the main lead’s hand in another occasion. (Chapter 89) While the painter was sitting on his partner’s lap (chapter 89), he was massaging the wounded fingers. It was, as if he was treating his companion’s wound. Note that after his terrible flashback, the painter had avoided to grab his hand out of fear that he might hurt Yoon Seungho even more. (Chapter 84) Therefore I conclude that the new panel is an allusion to treatment. While in episode 89, the painter was acting as a doctor, in the new image, the young man is working more like a counselor or psychologist. The aristocrat’s hand might not be wounded in that scene, but this is not the case for his heart and mind. So for me, this scene is connected to mental treatment. And by confessing his past, he will get liberated from his burden, released from that darkness. He will be able to finally see the light and to have hope again. As you can sense, I see a connection between episode 84 and this new panel. Note that during that day, the painter was also holding the noble’s hands, but here they were facing each other. (Chapter 84) However, the lord had refused to open up. This is no coincidence that the author had not created such a picture during that chapter. As the manhwalovers can detect, I believe that in that scene, Yoon Seungho will confess and reveal the source of his self-hatred and guilt. As a conclusion, though this image looks very romantic and beautiful, I think that it is accompanied with fear, guilt and agony. The readers could definitely come to cry while the lord’s revelation. Since the painter spoke in chapter 30, 84, 88 and 89, I am assuming that this time, he won’t talk much so that the lord can speak more freely.

But if the manhwaphiles compare all the mentioned scenes, they will realize that the hand gestures were strongly connected to promises or vows. It becomes even more obvious, when the artist criticized his lover for his bad behavior (chapter 82), caused by the panic attack. This is no coincidence that the painter employed the expression „empty words“. His action was not reflecting his words. Thus there exist the following quotes

  • “Actions speak louder than words“.
  • „Words are from the lips, actions are from the heart“: Rachida Costa.
  • „Well done is better than well said“: Benjamin Franklin.
  • The superior man acts before he speaks, and afterwards speaks according to his actions.” – Confucius

And that’s how I realized the importance of the link between action and words. The former is mirrored in the hand, while the words are connected to the tongue and mouth. Thus I come to the conclusion that when Baek Na-Kyum is holding his lover’s hand, he is no longer scared of Yoon Seungho. Therefore, I deduced that here it was not the case for the noble. Hence I believe that this gesture is to encourage Yoon Seungho to open up, to confess his doubts, guilt and pain. But by putting his hand over Yoon Seungho‘s, the artist is demonstrating that he is protecting him. He will listen to him and remain by his side and this no matter what. As you can sense, I am expecting a new version from that night (chapter 88), and this, although the lord is indeed a murderer. For Baek Na-Kyum, his gesture will have a different meaning: he saved his life and freed him from his torment. Secondly, if the lord reveals the circumstances of his mother’s death, the artist will definitely deny his responsibility in her death, a new version of this scene. (chapter 75) And because I detected a discrepancy between words and gestures, I recognized the presence of another trick from Byeonduck.✨

2. Passivity and silence

What caught my attention is that during the love session from chapter 91, the readers discovered the painter’s likes. While the lord said this to the painter: (chapter 91), the latter denied this with the following statement. (chapter 91) But when did the painter admit that he liked embracing him? In this panel! (chapter 88) That’s the reason why the lord got surprised and moved. As you can see, the author never revealed this whispering to the manhwalovers! The latter had the impression that the lord’s reaction was related to the loving embrace, but it was only partially correct.

This is important, because in this scene, the words were matching the action! That’s the reason why Yoon Seungho could finally accept it as a warm and sincere hug!! The painter was honest towards him. This scene contrasts so much to the love session at the physician’s, where the painter had hugged him, but had remained silent (chapter 62), when the lord had confessed to adore him. (chapter 62) This explicates why Yoon Seungho was so pained in season 2. He got embraced, but there were no words. Consequently, when the painter vanished during that night, the lord could only perceive the embrace as hypocrisy and fakeness. That’s how I realized that the story is developed on the contradiction between words and actions. But not only that, there exists a strong link between silence and passivity. Thus after the abduction in season 2, Baek Na-Kyum remained more or less silent (chapter 62), and as such he was totally passive. He never stood up and begged the lord for his leniency. He stayed there on the bed giving the impression that he was indifferent. That’s the reason why Yoon Seungho got more enraged, for he felt fooled. This means that the absence of words represent inaction… This explains why Yoon Seungho had to corner the main lead in chapter 48 (chapter 48) to say something, as he had sensed his passivity behind his „submissive attitude“. This is no coincidence that during this night, the painter felt extreme pleasure to the point that he peed. Therefore he could voice his wish to Yoon Seungho during the love session from season 2. (chapter 73) That’s how the lord concluded that the painter liked riding him, while in reality such a climax had appeared for the first time, when both were facing each other! (chapter 49)

And this leads me to the following observation. The protagonists were the targets of plots, because both of them had been silenced. By being voiceless, they had been turned into naïve puppets. Their silence corresponds to their passivity. This interpretation helps to understand why the artist was more active in season 1 (chapter 4) than season 2. He was encouraged by his future partner to speak up, yet the moment he got heartbroken, he was left speechless. And note that when the lord played his prank in the bedchamber, he never said anything to his father. (chapter 83) He didn’t move as well. Why? It is because he knew that talking to his father was pointless. However, Yoon Seungho had hoped that with his prank his father would finally see the truth. He had been fooled by Lee Jihwa and father Lee!! But the stupid father never realized it. As you can see, the lord had in that scene long given up to use words, he hoped that his father would see the truth with the prank. Don’t forget that deed stands for truth and reality. He thought that “actions would speak louder than words”, but he was proven wrong. This signifies that in this scene, (chapter 86) Yoon Seungho had acted the opposite, he had tried to speak up, but he had been muted. I am also thinking that the young master must have attempted to converse to his father (chapter 77) here as well, but the lord had not listened to him. Why? It is because Kim had said nothing!! (chapter 77) Silence was considered as an admission. This is no hazard that the butler didn’t take care of his young master. This scene symbolizes the quote “Actions speak louder than words” (chapter 77) The butler had betrayed the young master’s trust, for he had not intervened. He should have defended Yoon Seungho, but no in fact he had sided with the elder master Yoon once again. Not only he had not reminded Yoon Chang-Hyeon of his promise, but also he had assisted the ruthless father by giving himself the straw mat beating! (chapter 77) That’s the reason why the other servant looked down on Kim. Even after hurting his young master, he stayed paralyzed giving the impression that he felt nothing for Yoon Seungho! And this was actually true, for the valet felt more betrayed by the master’s attitude than pained due to the wounded noble. Like mentioned above, he could have refused to do it, but no! This is not surprising that the young master felt pained and angry. Striking is that in this scene, the main lead never said anything… a sign that he was already resigning to his fate! He was no longer resisting! And this leads me to the following conclusion. In season 3, Yoon Seungho was rather passive, hence he didn‘t voice the source of his suffering to Baek Na-Kyum!! However, he was not totally inactive, for he still opened up to the painter at the end of season 3. He was able to express his likes, dislikes and fears, hence Min’s first plot didn’t work out like expected!! And the return of his active attitude was already perceptible in the bureau of the authorities. (chapter 98) Here, he examined the robe and questioned the officer. The problem is that he was still relying on his staff and as such Kim. Therefore it is not surprising that he could still be manipulated by the schemers. Hence I am anticipating a total change in season 4. By conversing with the painter, the lord can only become more proactive to the point that he will be able to ruin the next schemes. I am even expecting a prank from the protagonists in season 4!! But this doesn’t end here. I am deducing that in the past, Yoon Seungho suffered because one tormentor would do things and say nothing, while the other would talk a lot, but act the opposite!! For me, these descriptions fit to Kim and the pedophile. I have the impression as well, that both characters came to switch their behavior. In one circle, Kim did many things, but remained mute, but later he did the exact opposite. I would like to point out that in season 3, he acted this way. He would promise loyalty to the lord, (chapter 77), but backstabbed him in the shadow. Besides, we shouldn’t forget that a narcissist’s words don’t match their action, because they are pathological liars. And so far, I had portrayed father Yoon (overt), Kim (covert) and even Jung In-Hun (overt) as people suffering from NPD. And I am assuming that the mysterious lord Song is not different from them, though I am suspecting that he must be a covert type.

And now, you are probably wondering why I added the adjectives “juicy” and “dry” to the title, while so far, my main focus was “action” through the hand gesture and words. The reason is simple. There exists an Arabian proverb: “A promise is a cloud, fulfilment is rain”. Since in this country, rain is rare, the saying is showing that people make promises easily (cloud), but they never keep their words, for it almost never rain. I found it interesting that it rained, when the butler and the father betrayed both the main lead. Their actions exposed their true colors. (chapter 77) Besides, it also snowed, when the painter got abducted twice, a sign that actually a promise had been broken.

3. Conclusions

Thanks to the lord’s actions (his obsession and love for the painter), Baek Na-Kyum could finally become owner of his own body and thoughts. That’s the reason why he could pee in the study, the bedchamber and the gibang and this without getting any reprimand, while the painter’s actions could bring the lord’s tears back! Their actions, the hand gestures and the embraces, became fruitful. This means that Yoon Seungho is finally possessing his own body and mind. This is no coincidence that he lowered himself, when he apologized to his lover. (chapter 102) He is no longer following social norms. This could only happen, because the lord had just committed a huge crime. What is the point to respect laws and tradition, when he became a murderer? Any other transgression can only appear as harmless. That’s the reason why I am expecting that Yoon Seungho decides to disregard social norms from that moment on and play a prank on the “villains” of this story.

Before closing this essay, I would like to mention other scenes, where the hand from the protagonists was connected to fear, confession, comfort and reassurance: (chapter 76) (chapter 53) (chapter 87), while the same extremity symbolizes the opposite with the villains and antagonists: violence, silence, submission (chapter 83), hatred and resent (chapter 97) Here, Heena was hurting her brother, because she wanted him to face “reality”. What caught my attention is that we never saw the father’s hand in chapter 86! (chapter 86) Why? It is because it reveals his powerlessness. And this leads me to the following conclusion: the deed stands for reality and honesty, while the words symbolize emptiness, illusion and deception. And now, you comprehend why this work is composed by the dichotomies: dream, words and mouth versus reality., action and the hand. This means that in season 4, the manhwaphiles should try to analyze the thoughts and emotions of the characters behind the hand gestures. At the same time, they can also verify if my interpretation is correct. Is the zoom of the protagonists’ hand connected to fear, confession, empathy and assistance?

Feel free to comment. If you have any suggestion for topics or manhwas, feel free to ask. If you enjoyed reading it, retweet it or push the button like. My Reddit-Instagram-Tumblr-Twitter account is: @bebebisous33. Thanks for reading and for the support, particularly, I would like to thank all the new followers and people recommending my blog.

Painter Of The Night: Summary of a love story 💖😍🌹

This is where you can read the manhwa. https://www.lezhinus.com/en/comic/painter But be aware that this manhwa is a mature Yaoi, which means, it is about homosexuality with explicit scenes. If you want to read more essays, here is the link to the table of contents:  https://bebebisous33analyses.wordpress.com/2020/07/04/table-of-contents-painter-of-the-night/ 

It would be great if you could make some donations/sponsoring: Ko-fi.com/bebebisous33  That way, you can support me with “coffee” so that I have the energy to keep examining manhwas. Besides, I need to cover up the expenses for this blog.

Though the talk of marriage started in season 2, the author revealed that Yoon Seungho was not thinking about marriage in season 3 yet. It was too early, as Baek Na-Kyum was still viewed as a boy. Moreover, according to social norms, it was impossible, for his lover is a man. Then in front of Yoon Chang-Hyeon, he made fun of his father. (chapter 87) That’s the reason why I consider the love session in chapter 88 more like a relationship between a sponsor and an artist.

Feel free to comment. If you have any suggestion for topics or manhwas, feel free to ask. If you enjoyed reading it, retweet it or push the button like. My Reddit-Instagram-Tumblr-Twitter account is: @bebebisous33. Thanks for reading and for the support, particularly, I would like to thank all the new followers and people recommending my blog.

Painter Of The Night: Heena’s secrets 🔐

This is where you can read the manhwa. https://www.lezhinus.com/en/comic/painter But be aware that this manhwa is a mature Yaoi, which means, it is about homosexuality with explicit scenes. If you want to read more essays, here is the link to the table of contents:  https://bebebisous33analyses.wordpress.com/2020/07/04/table-of-contents-painter-of-the-night/ 

It would be great if you could make some donations/sponsoring: Ko-fi.com/bebebisous33  That way, you can support me with “coffee” so that I have the energy to keep examining manhwas. Besides, I need to cover up the expenses for this blog.

Recently, Lezhin released a message on Instagram announcing the return of manhwas in hiatus for November. And unfortunately, Painter Of Night was not part of them. 😭 Later, the author announced that due to a surgery, the release of season 4 has been delayed. She apologized, for she couldn’t keep her promise. This means, either it will start at the end of December or in January. Nevertheless, this doesn’t change my resolution to keep analyzing this story, for Yoon Seungho’s suffering and the painter’s past have not been entirely unveiled. Like a detective, I am trying to put the pieces of the puzzle together. In this essay, I would like to elaborate my new discoveries concerning Heena which led me to develop new theories.

1. Heena: a mother or a sister?

During season 2, I had trouble to figure out her true identity. Was she the head-kisaeng who had adopted Baek Na-Kyum? (chapter1) Or was she simply the noona? (chapter 70) At some point, I came to realize that Heena had acted as the surrogate mother, but she had never clearly stated that she was the painter’s mother. In other words, his adoption was never official, which explicates why the main lead only considered her as his older sister. This is important, because her ambiguous status can not only generate problems, but also expose her betrayal towards Baek Na-Kyum. Note that in chapter 97, the noona treated Baek Na-Kyum as her “child” who wouldn’t listen to her (Chapter 97), while later she implied that they were both equal, for she employed the personal pronoun “us”. (chapter 97) On the other hand, she used her seniority as status, when she called him a fool (Chapter 97). He lacked experiences, hence he was too naïve, and as such he would trust the protagonist too easily. As you can see, Heena herself had an ambiguous relationship with her brother. Nonetheless, thanks to chapter 93, I got finally a definitive answer about Heena’s true identity. She is indeed the head-kisaeng in the gibang. I realized that the protagonists were invited to stay in Heena’s personal room. (Chapter 93) That’s the reason why the seat of the host was empty and why Yoon Seungho didn’t go there. He would have violated social norms, if he had taken her seat.. Moreover, by doing so, he would have revealed that he knew where the woman was. This could have raised questions.

2. Heena’s study

But how did I come up to this revelation? What caught my attention is the type of the door from that room (rectangles). Its pattern diverges from the ones in the hallway. (Chapter 93) This means that the figures were not sitting in the room shown in the last panel. On the other hand, their voices in the hallway exposed their location. The noonas and Heena were not far away from that door hidden by the veil. That’s how I got aware where Heena’s room was situated. In the last picture, the readers are turning their back from Heena’s study, which is right after the corner. Thus I could recognize the design of the building: ][ In the center, there is this huge hallway with the purple veils, but at its end, on each both sides, there exists a corridor perpendicular to the one with the purple curtains. What the beholder imagined as a door at the end of the hallway, (Chapter 68) was in truth a huge window. How do I know this? First, in this scene, the scholar was hiding a huge white vase with red flowers. Hence I deduced that Jung In-Hun couldn’t have walked through that “gate”, it was just a window. Therefore I assumed that he had to walk past the flowers, either turn to the right or the left. Secondly, observe that next to the lantern on the left, there is a small white panel. This means that the view from chapter 93 was more or less taken from the right corner. Moreover, in the next chapter, Heena is not facing this “window”, when she is in the same building. (Chapter 69) This time, the white vase with the flowers is standing in front of a wall. That’s how I deduced that Heena had to turn to the left in order to go to the hallway. (chapter 69) On the other hand, another element caught my notice. In this picture, (chapter 69) the purple curtain is covering the wall and is very close to the lantern, which is not the case in this picture from chapter 93. (chapter 93) And now, if you pay attention to the curtains in the hallway, you can detect a huge difference. (chapter 69) On the right side, there is no white wall between the purple veils, while it is not the case on the left side. And all these observations (the window in the background, the length and position of the purple veils, the white wall) made me realize that Jung In-Hun and Heena were actually walking in the same direction. At first glance, the beholder has the impression that the learned sir was leaving the building, whereas Heena was supposed to return to her private room. However, as you can see, this is just a deception. Furthermore, what caught my attention is the presence of a tiny window . (chapter 93) which is not present in episode 69. (chapter 93) Since I came to the conclusion that Heena’s private room was on the right side after the corner, I deduce that the kisaeng was not on her way to her room. Moreover, since the kisaeng was walking in the same direction than the scholar, I can only conclude that Heena was actually approaching the entrance of the building. I believe that she had turned around, but the author didn’t reveal this. One might argue that it is possible that in chapter 68, the learned sir could have gone with the painter to Heena’s bedroom. However, back then the latter was not the head-kisaeng. We know this due to the presence of a kisaeng standing right behind Yoon Chang-Hyeon during the sexual lesson. (chapter 86) She was the superior. Moreover, we saw the teacher walking through the countryside during the night. (chapter 70) That’s how I realized that Byeonduck had deceived the readers once again. She was playing with reflections. That’s the reason why I deduced that Heena was not talking loudly by accident in front of Black Heart. (chapter 69) It was done on purpose!! She wished that Min would take care of her brother. Under this new light, it becomes comprehensible why the noona has a drop of sweat on her cheek. She is faking ignorance, she is acting, as if she was very protective of her brother. She uses illusion to manipulate people. In reality, she was acting here. One might argue that I am overthinking again. This is not possible, for Heena didn’t know Min at all. Hence she couldn’t manipulate him. The latter had heard of her for the first time in Yoon Seungho’s mansion. (chapter 66) But let me ask you this. How could Heena have never met Min, when she was the head-kisaeng? Secondly, just because the servant had never heard of the noona, this doesn’t mean that it was the case for Black Heart. The domestic assumed Black Heart’s ignorance, just like the readers. Moreover, recently I had detected that Heena had been standing in front of a mansion belonging to a noble. (chapter 46) This was not Yoon Seungho and Lee Jihwa’s mansion, for the gate and walls (chapter 67) diverge. Moreover, Min has been seen in the kisaeng house in so many chapters , (chapter 19) (chapter 59). Here, I would like to point out that in episode 59, Lee Jihwa had visited the kisaeng house on different occasions, for his hair was slowly growing. (chapter 59) Moreover, note that his visits took place during the day and not during the night. Why? It was for privacy and so far, during the day, the manhwaphiles never saw any kisaeng in the gibang. (chapter 1) (chapter 94) Lee Jihwa was not supposed to meet kisaengs. As you can see, Min had strong connections with the gibang, just like Lee Jihwa. Hence Black Heart should have known Heena, for she was the head-kisaeng. But I would like to bring up a more conclusive proof for this interpretation. (chapter 19) This image was showing us that Yoon Seungho was visiting the gibang. However, pay attention to the pattern of the doors in the last picture and the next: (chapter 19) The motive diverges, it looks like the one from the hallway with the purple veils. This means that the party was not taking place in the room shown in the former picture. What caught my notice is the presence of the white vase with the red flowers in front of the building. It was present in each scene taking place in the gibang. (chapter 68) (chapter 69) (chapter 93) For me, the red flowers symbolize Heena noona. This explicates why during the painter’s dream, the flowers were not present. (chapter 87), as Heena was not included in his vision. And this image (chapter 19) made me think of Yoon Chang-Hyeon due to the writing on the wooden planks. (chapter 44) Due to the similarities, I believe that in chapter 19, Byeonduck was actually exposing the ghost head-kisaeng. Exactly like the father, she was hiding. Why? It is because she is involved in Yoon Seungho’s suffering. And now, imagine her reaction, when she hears that Black Heart has organized a feast for the main lead’s honor. The woman could only avoid the main character. And now, you have the explication why Heena as the head-kisaeng was not present during that festivity. It was deliberate. (chapter 19) Striking is that the kisaeng had a similar hair dress than Heena, This is no coincidence. She was acting as the head-kisaeng. The manhwalovers will certainly remember that only two kisaengs had no braided bun or braids: this one and Heena. Look at all the others: (chapter 51) (chapter 93) (chapter 93) (chapter 95) The extravagant hair dress was exposing the kisaeng’s status. And now, you comprehend why the other noona explained the disappearance of Heena during that night. (chapter 93) She was the head-kisaeng’s right-hand. She had to give an explanation why the noona wouldn’t appear in her bedroom.

But let’s return our attention to chapter 19. What did the kisaeng do during that party? She questioned the main character. (chapter 19) But how could she sense that the noble was in a good mood? The latter was silent and not even smiling. (chapter 19) How could she claim this? In reality she was actually spying on him. Heena had no idea why the lord would come to the gibang, especially after suffering there so much. The kisaeng’s task was to dig up information. This visitation must have bothered the head-kisaeng.

3. Heena and Min

According to my theory, Heena was walking in front of the room where Black Heart was on purpose. She wished to push him to remove the painter from Yoon Seungho’s side. Yet one might reject this thought, because it was impossible for her to know about the man’s presence. The entire time she was looking straight (chapter 69), and Min was sitting on the floor in the corner of the room. (chapter 69) She was even turning her back to him. But actually, she could have detected his presence, exactly like I had recognized him: through his laugh!! (chapter 69) And this would actually reinforce my interpretation that the noona was familiar with Min, and her encounter with him was not recent. Moreover, I would like to point out another discrepancy. This is what the kisaeng claimed to Yoon Seungho: (chapter 99) He was wearing a veiled hat, yet in chapter 69, this was not the case. (chapter 69) They could have seen his face, and as such recognize him as lord Min!! The kisaengs claimed that they had no idea, for they couldn’t see his face. But like pointed out, Black Heart was not wearing a veil in chapter 69! So they could identify him properly. People could have noticed that he was impersonating Lee Jihwa. That’s the reason why the villain had to change the hat!! Moreover, in this scene, he was not alone, he had been followed by his best friend, the noble with the mole. (chapter 69) That’s the reason why the trick with the first impersonation failed. Under this new approach, it becomes understandable why in season 3, Min was no longer followed by his friend and why he was wearing the hat with the black veil. They needed to ensure that no one would recognize his face. That way, the impersonation would be perfect, and Lee Jihwa could be framed easily. But this means that Black Heart must have got aware that the head-kisaeng had tried to trick him with her words in the hallway. This explains why in season 3, the woman got deceived herself with illusions. (chapter 88) (chapter 97) This was her karma. She had spoken with ill intentions (to achieve her goal by using a pawn), therefore she couldn’t speak in front of blood. This is no coincidence that her hands were covering her mouth, the opposite of her behavior in the hallway. Moreover, she had acted, as if she was caring for her brother, but the reality is that she cared more for the scholar than Baek Na-Kyum. In other words, the noona and Min were both fooling each other, they were constantly acting in front of each other. Hence when the noona saw the Joker in front of the scholar’s house, she feigned ignorance, while it was the opposite. (chapter 99) Under this new light, Min’s words get a new signification: (chapter 99) He was implying that they knew each other for a long time! The irony is that the manhwaphiles had the impression that their relationship was recent, and his cynical tone contributed to it. Secondly, he called her Heena, a sign that they were close to each other. Note that Lee Jihwa never mentioned her name. (chapter 99) His words even insinuate that Black Heart had just given the following order. The red-haired master should just fetch a kisaeng and in my opinion, Heena was waiting for Lee Jihwa’s arrival to leave the gibang. According to his words, he had no idea about the kisaeng’s identity. But is it true? I have my doubts now, and this for two reasons. Why would he ask about her identity, when he already knows that she is a kisaeng? The drop of sweat on his face is an indication that he is lying. But the problem is to determine if the deception is only referring to “I heard not a word” and to all the questions. Let’s not forget that he knew about Min’s initial intention. The moment Lee Jihwa arrived in the gibang, she just followed him. That way, they would avoid to attract attention, and with her new hair dress (chapter 99), she could no longer be recognized as the head-kisaeng. And this leads me to the following observation. When Heena was sent to the storage room, she actually lost her position as head-kisaeng. (chapter 93) In other words, when Yoon Seungho jailed her (chapter 93), the gibang had lost its “leader”. This explains why this noona as her right-hand had to explain the absence of the owner. (chapter 93). This scene (chapter 93) was actually announcing the downfall of Heena. She was about to desert the kisaeng house. She was giving up on her possessions and her position for “freedom”.

4. Heena and Yoon Chang-Hyeon

Because of the empty seat, I couldn’t help myself thinking of the elder master Yoon. (chapter 86) The latter had been eyeing the throne in the family mansion, but he failed to take over the mansion. This was the negative reflection of Heena. Whereas the kisaeng had a powerful position in the gibang, it was the opposite for the patriarch. He was no longer recognized as the head of the Yoons. Yet, both have something in common. Both lost their position for good, for Heena and Yoon Chang-Hyeon couldn’t take or keep the seat. We could say that both got defeated by Yoon Seungho. In chapter 93, the main lead acted as a respectful and calm master, whereas in the bedchamber he showed no respect to his own father. He talked back and even made fun of him. (chapter 87) This picture stands in opposition to this one: (chapter 93) To conclude, the surrogate mother and the patriarch made a similar experience in season 3. Both got deceived by manipulations and in both cases, letters played a huge role.

On the other hand, the noona chose to give up on her seat and position in order to avoid trouble with justice. The elder master Yoon decided to act the opposite. He made accusations against his son (chapter 94), definitely thinking that he was doing the right thing. He thought that he could never get into trouble. But this is just a deception in my opinion. As for the former head-kisaeng, she has to run away, for she did something wrong! In the past and in the present! She definitely plotted, and she is aware that her actions will have terrible repercussions.

5. Heena’s departure

This means that Heena chose to renounce on her position and wealth in order to save her own skin! That’s the reason why she faked her death. (chapter 99) No one would be looking for her. The problem is that the witnesses of her curtains all vanished. Lee Jihwa ran away, Black Heart got killed with his friends, and the only survivor, lord Jang, was confronted with real corpses in the shaman’s house. (chapter 102) That’s why I come to the deduction that her murder will be questioned. Why? There is no blood contrary to the bloodbath in the shaman’s house and there is no corpse!! Since Black Heart used different corpses in order to deceive Heena and the couple, there is no ambiguity that the head-kisaeng’s curtains will be doubted. Striking is that Heena staged her death out of cowardice and selfishness, while Yoon Seungho made the opposite decision. He was resolute to commit suicide in order to follow his lover in his death. During that night, Heena and Yoon Seungho lost their “home”, but at the end, he found his true home: the painters embrace. (chapter 102) He gave up on everything (fortune, house and life), hence he will be rewarded for all his sacrifices. Under this new light, I am more than ever convinced that Heena has not reached the bottom. Her karma is to be punished for her deceptions and acting!

As you can imagine, the moment I questioned the relationship between Heena and Min, everything appeared in a different light. It becomes comprehensible why Min would whisper to the head-kisaeng, why she didn’t push away his hand (chapter 96) (chapter 96), though he is a noble. Besides, I am suspecting her of suffering from genophobia (fear of sex and intimacy) Their behavior exposes closeness and a certain trust. But how is this possible? It is because she knows that Min is a sodomite, and he is not looking for sexual favors. That’s the reason why she trusted Black Heart in my opinion. Moreover, he is smiling like Jung In-Hun. Therefore it is not surprising that she was speaking like the Joker in chapter 97. Here, the man had actually projected his own thoughts onto Yoon Seungho, and due to her own belief, Heena was more than willing to believe Black Heart. . (chapter 97) That’s how I came to realize why in season 2, Jung In-Hun was mentioned in front of Min. (chapter 52) It is because Black Heart knew Heena! I even believe that he had already met the scholar. Note that the man with the black hanbok was repeating the rumors about the learned sir. And the other questioned the main lead’s action exposing that he had never heard about this grapevine before. Hence I am deducing that the one spreading this rumor could only be MIN!! That’s the reason why he just said this (chapter 52) That means that the noble knew the teacher in the end. Therefore it is no coincidence that Min was aware where the learned sir lived!! (chapter 83) And now, if you connect the two scenes from chapter 97 and chapter 52 , you can only come to the conclusion that Min was the learned sir’s previous sponsor, but at the end he changed his mind (chapter 52). Why? It is because there was an incident in the gibang!! (chapter 01) And who had covered up the incident? Heena, for she was the head-kisaeng! She had lied to her brother by blaming the biggest victim, Yoon Seungho, who was the man with the braid! This image is a real memory of Baek Na-Kyum from that night, yet from far away, the painter couldn’t see the face of the sodomite! This is another secret Heena has been hiding from her brother!

That’s how I realized that season 3 focused on the “face”, the symbol for identity. The readers could never see the face of all the corpses (chapter 94) (chapter 97) (chapter 97) (chapter 101), and even Kim hid his face under a hanbok. (chapter 92) That’s the reason why I believe that in season 4, the visage will play a major role! The couple will recognize people due to the face!! In my eyes, the former head-kisaeng knows the identities of all the persons involved in Yoon Seungho’s suffering.

Hence I am encouraging you to read Painter Of The Night once again under the following theory: Heena and Min knew each other, and Jung In-Hun had already been in contact with Min…. This is no coincidence that Black Heart had to die at the end. Jung In-Hun was killed, after Min had betrayed and abandoned the scholar. If he had kept his words… the murder of Jung In-Hun wouldn’t have taken place. But let’s not forget that according to me, this scene in the gibang (chapter 1) corresponds to Yoon Seungho’s first liberation. This means that the sponsorship was doomed to fail, because the gods would no longer tolerate the abuse. Min’s promise was short-lived, because his dream couldn’t come true. He had no longer any use of the scholar. This truly exposes that Heena told many stories to her brother in the past and in the present, yet only now, (chapter 97) her brother is detecting her deception.

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Painter Of The Night: Happy laughter 😄 and fearful agony 😧

This is where you can read the manhwa. https://www.lezhinus.com/en/comic/painter But be aware that this manhwa is a mature Yaoi, which means, it is about homosexuality with explicit scenes. If you want to read more essays, here is the link to the table of contents:  https://bebebisous33analyses.wordpress.com/2020/07/04/table-of-contents-painter-of-the-night/ 

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What is the common denominator between all these images? The painter’s mouth is wide open. This implies that the painter is laughing! In other words, these pictures are showing a happy Baek Na-Kyum. The laughter is not just a symbol for joy, but also an indicator for social bonding, cooperation and as such social acceptance. Note that in all these scenes, the painter is not laughing alone. He is either facing his lover and the “witnesses” of his marriage.

On the other hand, what caught my attention is that in the story itself, the manhwaphiles never saw the painter laughing in the present!! The only time, he was caught laughing happened during a dream. (chapter 87) Naturally, this vision reflected the past due to the presence of the noonas. But if you read my previous analysis, you are aware that the painter’s nocturne visions are always composed of three elements: memory, nightmare and desires which will come true at some point. The readers will certainly recall the painter’s wish in the bedchamber: (chapter 81) However, here again, this was not real, for he was imagining it. He had restrained himself, for he felt that his actual life was like an illusion. It was too good to be true. Thus I conclude that in both visions, the painter wished to laugh and as such to be happy. And this observation led me to the following deduction. In season 4, the manhwalovers will witness Baek Na-Kyum’s laughter. But this doesn’t end here. All the quoted pictures share another similarity which is the absence of the sound!! There is no HA, HA, HA…. Thus I deduce that in season 4, the readers will even hear Baek Na-Kyum’s laugh!! 🤣

1. Evidences for this prediction

First, I would like to remind my avid readers the following rules: Yoon Seungho’s actions will always be reflected by the painter’s and the reverse. Secondly, each scene in a season will be mirrored in other seasons. Striking is that the readers could witness Yoon Seungho’s joy and laugh in season 1. Thus this means that the painter should laugh in season 4. Interesting is that the author had separated the lord’s laugher in two different scenes. In episode 1, the protagonist had his mouth wide open, because he was so happy to meet his idol. (chapter 1). His mouth was exposing his emotions: happiness. It was, as if he was laughing internally out of joy. Then in the pavilion, the author let us hear Yoon Seungho’s laugh, while we couldn’t see his face. (chapter 25) As you can see, Yoon Seungho was not truly seen “laughing”. This is what we saw right after: (chapter 25) Either the sound was missing, or the readers couldn’t see his open mouth. Then in chapter 51, Byeonduck created an ambiguous situation. (chapter 51) Who was laughing here? The main lead or Min recognizable with his green hanbok? This confusion was deliberate. It was to give the impression that the lord had moved on, he was not missing his partner. This image served to divulge the reality: this happiness was fake. Another interesting aspect is that we couldn’t see the lord’s mouth, for it was too far away. It was more or less drawn from the painter’s perspective who was walking in the courtyard. (chapter 51) The purpose of this trick was to deceive the painter, Yoon Seungho would no longer care for him. However, this trick didn’t work out like imagined due to the maid’s words. She wished that he would remain in the mansion. But let’s return our attention to the laugher in this panel. I would even add that there was no real social bounding, for Black Heart was enjoying about Yoon Seungho’s misery and loss. He believed that the painter had died. And if it was Yoon Seungho who laughed, then this was to mask his pain. Then in chapter 70, he was caught laughing. And observe that the author separated the sound from the face: (chapter 70) Yoon Seungho would even hide his face from the painter, as he was looking down. His laugh was barely perceptible, and when the author revealed his face, Yoon Seungho used his hand to mask his smile. (chapter 70) It was, as if Yoon Seungho was not allowed to smile or to laugh at all. I would even go so far to say that laughers were actually forbidden in the mansion. Striking is that in season 3, for the first time, we could see and hear the lord’s laughter contrary to season 1 and 2.. (chapter 78) This illustrates the progression of the lord’s healing. He was getting happier, and he would interact more and more with people. Yet, in this scene, the lord’s laughter was not loud contrary to the one in the pavilion. Then in the gibang, his laugh was also fake, for he was masking his pain. (chapter 93) Thus the author didn’t let us see his mouth once again. But the painter could see the difference between a sincere laughter and a fake one, as he had already heard and see the lord’s true laugher! Because the lord laughed in all 3 seasons, I could only assume the painter’s laughing in season 4. But I have another proof for this prediction. In season 3, the painter’s laughter was shown in visions (chapter 81, 87) or through the testimony of the maid. (chapter 91) However, the manhwalovers have to envision that, when he caught the pervert with the maid together, he was totally embarrassed. Hence his laugh was fake! In other words, I am doubting that he truly laughed. That’s the reason why Baek Na-Kyum denied to find the situation funny. (chapter 91) As a conclusion, expect a picture with Baek Na-Kyum ‘s laughter reflecting his happiness and sincerity. And this is definitely related to his marriage: I have another proof for this expectation, the lord’s mouth in this scene: (chapter 87) Here, he was making fun of his father, and used the rumors about his imminent marriage. That’s how I realized that in season 3, the lord had often played the role of the Joker (chapter 78-79; 87; 89-90-91), until he was replaced by Black Heart. That’s the reason why I have been predicting that in season 4, Yoon Seungho will play a huge prank on the old bearded men, especially the mysterious lord Song, with his marriage. But while making this connection between the lord’s laughter and the painter’s, I had another revelation: the mouth wide open is not just the expression for laughter, but also for fear and suffering.

2. Anxiety and torture

Look at this image: (chapter 102) There is no HAHA, this shows that this situation is not funny. Yet, Black Heart is still smiling, he is even explaining that they were just playing. However, this smile is totally fake, for he is already scared. Hence he is stuttering. Moreover, he is trying to downplay the whole situation, as he describes it as a game. But the closer Yoon Seungho got to him, the more the villain got scared. (chapter 102) On the other hand, Black Heart’s mouth remained wide open, but it slowly exposed his true emotions. As the manhwalovers can detect, the sound “Haa,” is not expressing joy or happiness, but huge anxieties. Thus I couldn’t help myself thinking that in season 4, the painter’s laughter will be reflected with the heavy breathing from fear and pain. Someone will have a mouth wide open out of fear!! And this connection was already present in chapter 1: (chapter 1) versus (chapter 1) Baek Na-Kyum and Yoon Seungho had both flashbacks (chapter 66), while Min was smiling. He was internally laughing, for it found it entertaining. [For more read the essay HAHA Flashbacks”] And this fear was exposed by the sound: HAA (chapter 99) But this doesn’t end here.

The sound HAA is just associated to anxiety, but also to moan. Hence I couldn’t restrain myself thinking that the wide open mouth can not only express pleasure, but also pain caused by TORTURE! Let’s not forget that the painter had been hiding his moaning out of pleasure in the past (chapter 84), but in the gibang, he dropped this habit for good: (chapter 96) This connection between pain, pleasure and laughter appeared in chapter 91, as the story is based on the following rule: there is always a reflection within the same episode. I would like the manhwaphiles to observe this image: (chapter 91) Here, the lord had changed position provoking pleasure to the artist. Before, the maid had laughed so loudly in order to get the painter’s attention. (chapter 91) According to my interpretation, she hoped that Baek Na-Kyum would discover the existence of the kisaeng’s letters so that the painter would feel betrayed by Yoon Seungho. He had ordered to hide the correspondence. But for that, she needed to explain the reason for her loud laughter. Hence she revealed the incident with the pervert. The irony is that due to his pleasure and embarrassment, Baek Na-Kyum didn’t pay attention to her words. He already felt ashamed, after the servant had exposed the situation in the bathroom. (chapter 91) Thus he avoided his lover’s gaze. And note that in chapter 25, the lord laughed, before he raped the painter. (chapter 25) This episode exposes the connection between laugh and pain. Here, you can see that the painter is also screaming out of pain, the negative reflection of Yoon Seungho’s laugh. Baek Na-Kyum’s mouth was wide open. When people are tortured, they will usually scream their pain and fear.

The last image is taken from Dong-Yi, a historical k-drama, which I am employing as a reference. The beholder can detect a huge difference between this scene (chapter 37) and the one from Dong-Yi. The absence of the sound. Moreover, the manhwalovers can not see the mouths from the victims either. The torture was already finished, for they had removed the tools and the „suspects“ were covered with blood. And this leads me to the following observation. The author selected a perspective from far away, and didn’t add the sound on purpose. This shows that the pedophile was not present, when the torture took place. He only arrived afterwards. This exposes his cowardice. Secondly, since I had outlined that the author had separated the sound (HA HA) from the lord’s mouth concerning the laughter, I am quite certain that she will use a similar processes for the torture. Naturally, I am also assuming that torture from the past could be slowly revealed. Consequently, my prediction is that the negative reflection of the painter’s laughter will be the yelling combined with fear and pain. This signifies that people will suffer in season 4 and probably die. Another evidence for this prediction is that the author often focused on the characters’ mouth. And this is what we have: (chapter 77) (chapter 86) (chapter 98) In the last scene, Heena was sort of “punished”, when she confessed to the main lead. That’s the reason why I believe that in season 4, we will see people screaming out of pain and fear. It can be in the present or in the past. The interrogation and torture should be exposed in my eyes contrary to chapter 37. Why? It is because Baek Na-Kyum needs to know what happened to Yoon Seungho to understand him. There is no ambiguity that the painter will suffer again, for in this work “pain” is necessary to change the painter’s mind and heart. Remember that he was “tormented”, when he finally admitted that he believed in his lover’s innocence. (chapter 99) Despite the “torture”, he still claimed that Yoon Seungho was no murderer. Thus I conclude that in the next season, it should be the reverse. Yoon Seungho has to make a new leap of faith believing in the painter’s innocence and purity. Hence I am expecting an arrest in season 4. Finally, we shouldn’t overlook that each word Yoon Seungho said became the truth, so when he stated this (chapter 65), he was already warning the sister. She could face human justice. However, this idiom suddenly caught my attention: “the wrath of humans”. It can be a reference to the authorities, but also to the inhabitants. The latter could get infuriated by the police work and put the officers under pressure or in the worst case, the inhabitants could decide to do their own justice: lynch mob. According to me, many commoners died in season 3. Hence this could upset the town folks who would ask for real justice. And if Yoon Seungho’s fiancée is acknowledged by them, then it will be impossible for the pedophile to use the authorities to achieve his goal, separate the couple and hide his own crimes. Thus his last puppets will have to take the fall. Another important aspect is that when Yoon Seungho warned the kisaeng, Kim was also present, though he still remained in the background. (chapter 65) As you can imagine, I am already sensing a bad ending for Heena and Kim. Striking is that in this scene, while the noona was seen constantly with her mouth wide open, yelling at the host and calling for her brother, the latter was having a flashback. This is no coincidence, especially if you recall that Heena was connected to Baek Na-Kyum’s tears: (chapter 68) (chapter 94) In fact, this reinforces my conviction that the painter’s laughter will be contrasted with people’s moaning and yells out of agony. At the same time, I think that Heena is connected to scandal, but in season 2 and 3, she failed to create a ruckus. Why? It is because in the past, she had helped to cover up the crimes committed in the kisaeng house.

3. Conclusions

Under this new perspective, the manhwalovers can comprehend why I used the following emojis in the title: 😄😧 Both of them have a open mouth, the only difference are the eyes. Out of fear, the eyes get bigger, because the body is in survival modus. On the other hand, when these persons got tortured, they closed their eyes out of agony,

reminding us of the painter’s suffering in the gibang. Yet, the closed eyes and the open mouth is quite similar to the painter’s laughter: The readers can grasp why I made this connection between suffering and happiness in the end.

Feel free to comment. If you have any suggestion for topics or manhwas, feel free to ask. If you enjoyed reading it, retweet it or push the button like. My Reddit-Instagram-Tumblr-Twitter account is: @bebebisous33. Thanks for reading and for the support, particularly, I would like to thank all the new followers and people recommending my blog.