Chapter Seventy-Two: The Castle Message Board

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Entertainment at Your Side, No Pop-ups
Story Timeline: January 2006
Recommended Song: Baek Ji-young – “No More Love”
Note: This is a work of pure fiction; any resemblance to real persons is purely coincidental!

This was the third time Min Xiaoli sat in the cinema to watch Jiang Yihan’s “May I Love You?” As an adult, she shouldn’t have been so sentimental, but this time was different—this was what she told herself. “May I Love You?” as a film was understated, even pure, expressing the cleanest and most transparent love, as if one’s heart was laid completely bare to accept the most genuine and innocent feelings.

Min Xiaoli remembered that after her first viewing, her eyes were swollen from crying and she’d even felt a childish resentment toward the director. When she read the message left by the webmaster, Jiang Zaimin, on Jiang Yihan’s official website, she cried again.

Jiang Zaimin wrote: “I don’t know if the Young Master in the film is the real Young Master or just a creation of the movie. When I saw him shedding tears in sadness, all I knew was that perhaps he represents the softest, purest part of my heart. The film never tells us if the Young Master finds his happiness, but I’d rather believe that he does.”

As she read, Min Xiaoli couldn’t hold back her tears. In her mind, she could picture the Young Master gazing sorrowfully into the distance, leaving only his back to “Zai,” and saying, “I love you, but we can’t be together.”

The ending shouldn’t have been like this. The second time she sat in the cinema, her heart began to ache. The only physical contact between Han and Zai in the whole film, that single kiss, brought with it not sweetness as the first time, but instead a nameless sorrow. After returning home, she felt a tangled discomfort every day because of the ending, searching Jiang Yihan’s Cyworld and official website for others who felt the same.

In Jiang Yihan’s Cyworld, there was a diary entry dated New Year’s Day. Min Xiaoli read it carefully.

Cyworld Diary
Date: January 30
Weather: Clear
Mood: Complicated
Author: Jiang Yihan
Visibility: Public

Happy New Year, everyone! Today is New Year’s Day. I wonder how everyone’s holiday is going, haha. As for me, I’m a bit unhappy because I miss home. I was supposed to have a week off for the holidays, but due to the film and album promotions being so busy, I postponed my break. Yesterday, I talked with my grandma and mom on the phone. I really miss home. I even cried a bit, haha. There’s nothing I can do—work is so busy now. I really want to go home, see my grandma and mom. I really want to go back. Mom said grandma’s health hasn’t been great lately and she’s been taking medicine. I’m very worried and hope she gets better soon so I won’t have to worry.

My new song “May I Love You?” actually took first place last week—I was so surprised! It only took one week after the comeback and I already got first place. My manager keeps saying I’m lucky, and the company was shocked too, haha, which made me a little proud. But I still have to thank all the Castles for supporting me. I’ll keep working hard, and hope you all keep supporting my new song, haha.

My movie has premiered. I wonder what everyone thinks. On premiere day, I saw the audience’s reactions and felt that everyone liked it a lot. I heard that “The King’s Man,” which premiered at the end of last year, has been doing very well at the box office, even surpassing Jang Dong-gun’s “Typhoon.” So impressive! I don’t know how our movie will do—I'm a bit worried since we’re all newcomers and still have many shortcomings. But now that the film is out, I can only hope for everyone’s support.

Below the diary entry were hundreds of comments. After some hesitation, Min Xiaoli left her own:

“Master, I really like your movie, but I hope you can find happiness. Seeing you sad makes every Castle’s heart ache.”

Leaving Cyworld, Min Xiaoli found several reviews of the film on the official website, most written by Castles themselves, some reposted from professional critics. She began to read.

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The first review she read was by the well-known critic Zhang Dongxian, pinned to the top of the forum—impossible to miss.

High investment, high returns, and high production value have gradually become the mainstream in the film industry. When “May I Love You?” appeared before us with its small budget and modest production, we really should admire their courage, and even more, we should praise their excellence.

In a world awash with material desires, pure love grows ever rarer. That’s why we seek the most beautiful love in our hearts through the movies. It’s undeniable that in recent years, pure love films have lost their appeal—clichéd plots and predictable storylines have become tiresome. Yet this film is surprisingly refreshing: its exquisite visuals, attractive leads, bold subject matter, and moving music are all delightful. What impresses me most, though, is the three main threads of the story—three different kinds of love showcase the beauty of affection. Hui’s love is the most selfless, Xi’s love the purest, and Han and Zai’s love the most touching. The character design deserves praise: a girl wholeheartedly in love with her boyfriend, a girl who secretly admires and follows her beloved, and a same-sex love that society cannot accept but which the audience cannot let go of. Such a unique setup elevates the film’s theme to new heights. I must also commend the lead actor Jiang Yihan’s performance. I especially love his smile—so clean and transparent that one can’t bear to hurt such a pure-hearted child who loves deeply.

A film with story, plot, visuals, music, and acting—what more could one ask for? Perhaps we can quibble about its length, haha.

To be honest, when I first heard about the production team and story of “May I Love You?” I had no interest in watching it. It was only because an old friend insisted I go with him that I attended the premiere. Now, I’m grateful for this chance encounter—it allowed me to discover “May I Love You?” I hope that all who still yearn for beautiful love can quietly enjoy this wonderful story in the cinema.

Zhang Dongxian’s critiques were always fair; perhaps he had his preferences, but he never praised excessively nor criticized harshly. If all the praise in this review was genuine, then perhaps this film truly deserved anticipation.

After reading, Min Xiaoli smiled. She especially liked the line, “I especially love his smile—so clean and transparent that one can’t bear to hurt such a pure-hearted child who loves deeply.” Indeed, as a devoted Castle, what moved and pained Min Xiaoli most in the film was Han’s heartwarming yet heartbreaking smile.

The second review Min Xiaoli read was from the famous Castle, Cheng Yingzhu. Because of her obsession with Jiang Yihan, her familiarity with all his schedules, and her good relations with other Castles, Cheng Yingzhu was a well-known name among fans. Min Xiaoli was curious to see if Cheng Yingzhu shared her own tangled feelings and sorrow, or her inability to let go.

Why did it have to be this way? Why this ending? Why end it like this? Why treat our Young Master so?

For days after watching the film, I kept thinking about the ending, about the Young Master’s shy smile, the way he played the piano, the way he looked at Zai, the Young Master’s sorrowful figure, and that line: “I love you, but we can’t be together.”

Every time I think of it, I get tangled up inside. It shouldn’t be like this. The Young Master is so pure, so lonely, so helpless—all he needs is a smile or a hug from Zai. Why did it have to end like this? They were so beautiful, so happy. They didn’t hurt anyone, they didn’t ask for anything—so why couldn't they have a future? “I love you, but we can’t be together.” Clearly, they love each other, yet they chose to part ways. The helplessness and sorrow on their faces remains unforgettable.

Now, just thinking of the Young Master’s sorrowful face at the end makes my heart ache. Please, don’t take away the Young Master’s happiness.

Maybe I should hope for a sequel!

After reading Cheng Yingzhu’s post, Min Xiaoli couldn’t help but laugh. The post revealed her obsession, even bordering on fanaticism, but Min Xiaoli still nodded in agreement. After watching the film, she too felt tangled—perhaps she, too, should look forward to a sequel.

Next, Min Xiaoli read posts by Xu Zhengya, Yin Yuner, Jin Xiaoxi, and the Young Master’s sister, Jiang Ziyi. Everyone seemed troubled by the ending, but from Jiang Ziyi’s words it seemed the Young Master didn’t have time to dwell on the ending—he was too busy promoting the film everywhere and must have been exhausted. Min Xiaoli silently wished him good health.

Just as Min Xiaoli was about to leave the forum, a new ID caught her eye—Fu Yao, a male Castle with a cute, doll-like face. He had also posted, piquing Min Xiaoli’s curiosity.

I’m a male Castle, so maybe I see the film differently than everyone else.

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To see the Young Master’s first film, my little brother and I went to a lot of trouble. In the end, it was only with our father’s help that we managed to see it. Afterward, both my brother and I cried. Seeing Han’s sorrowful back at the end, I think none of us could accept such an ending. Reading so many reviews today, everyone seems tangled by this ending.

But has anyone considered that if the ending had been a grand reunion, would it have had the same effect? Maybe we wouldn’t be haunted by it, maybe we wouldn’t feel regret, maybe we wouldn’t be so tangled, and maybe we wouldn’t be looking forward to a sequel. If the ending had been a happy one, it wouldn’t fit reality, nor the film’s theme about love.

So I think it’s precisely the beauty of imperfection that makes us remember the Young Master’s shy smile, his sweet confession song, and his sorrowful back. Sometimes, incomplete beauty is a beauty of its own.

After reading Fu Yao’s review, Min Xiaoli furrowed her brows, sitting in her chair for a long, long time. Eventually, as if she’d suddenly figured something out, she broke into a smile.

Indeed, if the ending had been perfect, maybe the film wouldn’t be as worthy of praise.

The third time she sat in the cinema, seeing Han’s smile, his look of happiness, his focus as he played piano, his sweet kiss, his sorrowful back—Min Xiaoli still wept, still felt heartache, still felt conflicted, but this time, a sweet smile appeared at the corners of her lips. Because she knew Han was happy, Han would be happy, and so would the Young Master.

As she left, Min Xiaoli suddenly noticed a male Castle sitting beside her, also in tears, but smiling through them. The happiness at the corners of his mouth was just like her own, and Min Xiaoli smiled again.

Lin Xiaoguang, now watching himself, turned his head and saw a delicate-looking girl with tear stains at the corners of her eyes and a smile on her lips. Lin Xiaoguang smiled and nodded in greeting before turning to leave.

Back home, Min Xiaoli sat in front of her computer, unable to calm her heart. She wanted to say something, but couldn’t find the words. Her thoughts churned for a long while before she finally placed her hands on the keyboard and typed, word by word.

The first time I got to know the Young Master, I remembered his clean, transparent, and magnetic voice. I can’t deny he attracted me. I’m not at the age to chase idols, but I still chose to become a Castle—a loyal Castle.

The second time I got to know the Young Master, I remembered the smile at the corners of his mouth. Seeing him standing on the street, sweating as he smiled and signed autographs for everyone, I was moved. Maybe it was just for show, maybe it’s just part of being an artist, but I preferred to believe it was the real Young Master, because he has the purest, most genuine smile. I chose to believe he was sincere.

The third time I got to know the Young Master, I remembered his tears and sorrow. He transformed into a boy named Han and brought us a pure yet tragic love story. Maybe it’s because Han loved someone society couldn’t accept, maybe it’s because Han was lonely, maybe it’s because Han was isolated, maybe it’s because of his warm, gentle smile—but when I saw Han’s sorrowful back, my heart ached beyond rescue. Young Master, how am I supposed to love you enough? But finally, I understood; perhaps it’s precisely because of Han’s regret that we love Han so deeply, love the Young Master so deeply. I chose to believe Han would be happy, and so would the Young Master.

The Young Master’s voice, his smile, his expressions—somehow, my life began to include a boy named Jiang Yihan, but I don't regret it, because being a Castle makes me happy.

Min Xiaoli’s post quickly garnered over a thousand comments—there were clearly many who felt the same.

No matter what, “May I Love You?” became a dark horse, forcefully entering the public’s view and, following “Typhoon” and “The King’s Man” from the end of last year, became the third box office sensation, with even stronger momentum than its predecessors, sweeping across South Korea in a whirlwind of “love.” As for its ultimate box office result, that would only be known after the screenings ended. For now, it was anyone’s guess, as Jiang Yihan and Kim Jaejoong as one team, and Jin Xiaoxi and Han Jihye as another, were traveling the country, working hard to promote the film.