Sasaengs have become a clear and present danger to Tian Xu Ning. Literally, he is in DANGER. It's RIDICULOUS what…
This is freaking infuriating. I get it some people say that celebrities shouldn't expect to have a "private" life when they know the consequences of entering showbusiness but this is on a whole other level of wrong!!!
This is not only disrespectful, but violence against another person and yes I will call it violence! Just because you don't hit the person physically or see blood coming out, it doesn't mean the victim feels any less hurt or traumatized.
If they hold a fan meeting, the fans can scream all they want but this is clearly NOT an event sanctioned by his company where fans are allowed to greet their faves.
Also, Whoever leak these information, their flight schedule, what flight, etc etc for these people to get their hands on tickets should be ashamed of themselves.
This is NOT fan behavior. A true fan knows how to respect boundaries and if they truly profess to idolize or love him, they should think about the artist' well being first.
I picked up this drama because I saw the two leads in another microdrama — and unlike most pairings that fizzle out once the script forgets what it’s doing, these two actually had spark. So naturally, I chased them into Zhang Gong Zhu Zai Shang, and thank the drama gods, it delivered. No bait-and-switch, no wasted potential — just consistent romantic tension that knew when to smolder and when to shut up and kiss already.
The setup flips the Dong Lan Xue dynamic: Qi Xia Xia is the royal this time, and Jin Chao is the quiet, dutiful guard who could kill someone with a hairpin if they blinked the wrong way. It’s not groundbreaking, but the reversal works. Their dynamic actually feels earned — there’s push and pull, power imbalance, and enough “forbidden but not really” glances to keep me invested without rolling my eyes every five seconds. Plus, Jin Chao’s stoic loyalty with just a hint of barely-contained emotion? Yes, thank you, more of that.
It’s a quick watch, and surprisingly, the palace intrigue doesn’t feel like filler. There’s scheming, poisonings, framed crimes — you know, the essentials — but it moves fast and doesn’t pretend it’s Nirvana in Fire. And honestly, that’s fine. This drama knows what it is: a short-form ride with pretty people, political tension, and actual pacing.
Still, I couldn’t help but think — with a real budget and a major TV time-slot, this could’ve hit harder. Some plot threads deserved more than five minutes of runtime before getting resolved by monologue or offscreen arrest. But even with its limits, it never lost sight of the core: Qi Xia Xia and Jin Chao. That pairing carried everything, and I’m glad it didn’t disappoint. Not all microdramas get that right — this one did.
I went into this drama expecting the usual: recycled tropes, awkward pacing, maybe some forced cuteness. But this certainly surprised me. What starts out as low-stakes teen fluff slowly builds into an emotional ride with real momentum. It's not dramatic in the heavy sense, but it managed to stir things up just enough to make me care—and feel.
The meet-cute setup worked better than it had any right to. A flirty prankster morphs into a genuine love interest, and the transition doesn’t feel forced. There’s something refreshing about watching their chemistry unfold, even if the jealous third wheel shows up right on cue. Obligatory mean-girl archetype included, but she’s less of a threat and more of a checkbox.
Is it groundbreaking? No. But it’s decent. The pacing doesn’t drag, the emotional beats aren’t overplayed, and you get enough character movement to feel satisfied. A reliable comfort watch—nothing profound, but polished enough to avoid cringe. It lands somewhere in the middle between breezy distraction and real connection.
Just don’t follow it into Season 2. That installment showed up with a personality transplant and a warning label. The tone unravels, characters flatten out, and whatever spark Season 1 had quietly fizzles. Watch the first, skip the sequel—unless you’re collecting disappointment for sport.
Review Summary: I watched this drama because TikTok edits sold me a dream: two top micro-drama leads, loaded with…
To make it worse, the marketing team played sleight of hand with the lead actress. She’s nowhere on the poster and not credited properly on MDL. They teased tension with an overly intimate poster of the two male leads, almost like they were courting a queer-coded aesthetic. But it’s bait, plain and simple. There’s no actual payoff in the show. The woman who drives the entire plot got cropped out while the guys got stylized like a forbidden romance that never materialized.
Then there’s the torture. Endless scenes of physical suffering, mostly aesthetic but rarely justified. A handful of knife stabs, limping dramatically through empty courtyards, that one blood-spitting close-up they reused twice. These Chinese shorts have a fascination with pain as a narrative shortcut—but here, it just feels indulgent.
Emotionally, I struggled with the lead’s moral compass. She’s ambitious, but the kind that discards affection like it’s a paper receipt. I get she has goals, but sacrificing those who care for her with little remorse makes her hard to root for. Not ruthless—just plain cold.
Final straw? They did the fake sister villain dirty. Her character was paper-thin, evil in a way that felt mean-spirited, not layered. Meanwhile Ke Yun stumbles through betrayal only to be gifted a last-minute redemption arc. Two evil siblings. One gets humiliated, the other gets closure. Guess which one’s male.
I watched this drama because TikTok edits sold me a dream: two top micro-drama leads, loaded with chemistry, a modern palace setting—what’s not to like? Turns out, the drama banks on the idea that changing your name makes you magically unrecognizable. At least in Xi Yue's mind, she thought everyone will forget her face like royal amnesia is trending.
What do expecting from this Series? Romance? Did u even check the tags bfr watching the show? Did the trailer…
I am not even expecting any BL, I know going in that there isn't any. The lack of these BL moments isn't the issue with me. Same when I went in watching Justice in the Dark; just because it was based on a BL novel, does not mean I have any expectations. It does not have to be BL for me to necessarily enjoy the show. I watch a lot of heteronormative, non-romance dramas for the same reason.
Like how I am thoroughly enjoying Study Group, where there is tons of school bullying and violence but I still felt entertained. I don't rate a drama based on the lack of skinship , as this is not a deal breaker for me. My opinion is solely dependent on the drama itself and whether it meets the standards that I have set myself to say whether I enjoyed it or not. I could rate a drama like a 2 out of 10 even though I completed it, because I felt it was such a disappointment or waste of time, or I can rate a 7 out of 10 a drama that I dropped, which I did in this case, because, regardless of how I feel about it, I think it at least deserved some points for the tight production etc etc.
Forums are for exchanges of perspective no matter how different they are from others. I believe we are entitled to give a 10 to largely lambasted dramas, or a 2 to a critically acclaimed drama. A rating is only 1 person's subjective opinion, that would hardly sway the masses, that is why there is an algorithm here to calculate weighted mean plus some secret sauce that MDL collectively decides on.
So unless 100s of people gave this a low score or bad reviews, please treat it as white noise.
Review Summary:This is what happens when someone takes the chaotic charm of "Scumbag System" and wraps it in a…
The leads? Surprisingly decent. Ke Ying as Sheng Xia manages to be both clueless and endearing, and Li Ge Yang as Shen Shi Yi plays the cold villain with just enough warmth to make the slow-burn believable. Their chemistry isn’t explosive, but it simmers nicely. I expected cardboard cutouts and got actual performances. Small win.
And yes—I was entertained. Genuinely. The pacing is tight, the episodes short enough to binge without guilt, and the plot doesn’t take itself too seriously. It leans into tropes but doesn’t drown in them. The Mary Sue system is ridiculous, but the drama knows it and plays along. There’s enough humor, tension, and romantic nonsense to keep things moving, and I didn’t once feel the need to rage-quit.
But then came the final minute. Cue the dreaded Chinese censorship. Just when the emotional payoff was about to land, the screen pulled a bait-and-switch so abrupt I thought my Wi-Fi glitched. Whatever just happened—kiss, confession, closure—got sanitized into oblivion. It’s like the drama ran full speed toward catharsis and got tackled by the censorship board at the finish line.
Still, this drama is a fun watch. Not deep, not flawless, but entertaining in a way that makes you forgive the occasional logic gaps and system-induced nonsense. Just brace yourself for the ending to fizzle—not because the story failed, but because someone upstairs decided emotional satisfaction was too spicy.
This is what happens when someone takes the chaotic charm of "Scumbag System" and wraps it in a candy-colored transmigration plot with a kiss-powered heroine. It’s got the same “system rules your life” setup, the same reluctant villain love interest, and the same sense that the universe is one big fanfic generator with a glitchy AI. If you liked Scumbag System’s blend of meta-humor and emotional sabotage, this one scratches a similar itch—just with more lip balm.
With a title that sounds like a warning and ratings barely keeping the pulse, I expected a snooze-fest. Instead, it turned out better than anticipated—moody atmosphere, layered plot, and just enough mystique to keep me invested. It’s not soaring to greatness, but it’s not bottom-shelf either. We’re talking drama limbo with style.
Now let’s address the dual lead dilemma. Su Cheng Xi and Sui Han Bai—same flowing hair, same brooding stare, same aura of tragic backstory. I spent a good chunk of time confused about who was who. Did production run out of wigs or just want to test my observational skills? Anyway, they’re both competent and compelling once you figure out which one’s talking.
And yes, they absolutely need to stop flirting with each other. Or don’t—because I’m all for a good bromantic slow burn. The glances? Intense. The tension? Delicious. They could fight each other or make out—I’d probably still cheer. Whether intentional or not, their chemistry walks the line between rivalry and something suspiciously more... layered.
Overall, this is a solid pick if you can handle a few pacing hiccups and narrative fog. It’s got heart, a compelling premise, and plenty of room for subtext if you squint. Just don’t trust the ratings—they clearly missed the memo.
This drama sits awkwardly between almost-great and nearly-forgettable, choosing instead to loiter in a weird limbo. It’s your classic prince-and-pauper story—except instead of royal identities, it’s K-pop glitz versus café grunge. The switch happens, things get mildly chaotic, and the story hums along in a very “web drama budget” kind of way.
The female lead, Seo Ji Soo, tries her best with what she's given. Her performance isn’t groundbreaking, but hey—it’s her first time leading, and the show’s runtime barely gives her room to breathe. For a short series, it’s forgivable. The dual roles are cute on paper, but the execution? A little too rushed to leave much impact.
There’s a romance simmering, but it never boils. Emotional moments come and go before they stick, and by the final episode, I was hoping for resolution with actual weight. Instead, the ending limps toward closure like it forgot there’s no guarantee viewers will watch the sequel (especially since the reviews scream “Don’t bother”).
Overall, it’s not a terrible watch. It’s light, mildly entertaining, and occasionally sweet—but don’t expect it to sweep you off your feet. This is drama purgatory: not bad enough to roast, not good enough to rave. Watch it if you’re curious, but prepare for a finish that fizzles.
This drama had a premise that could’ve been fun—a century old- goblin who needs to kiss ten humans to become human himself. Cute, right? Except the execution felt like someone wrote the outline, spilled coffee on it, and said “eh, good enough.” The pacing was rushed, the emotional beats barely landed, and the whole thing screamed “we had twelve episodes and five bucks.”
Let’s talk about Oh Yeon Ah, the female lead. She’s supposed to be strong-willed, but ends up tagging along while Ban Sook kisses other women like it’s a sport. What woman in her right mind agrees to be the emotional support buddy while her crush locks lips with strangers? Unless she’s a masochist with a martyr complex, this setup makes zero sense. And don’t get me started on the exorcist subplot—apparently, a regular human can protect a supernatural being from a trained assassin. Sure, dude.
The show tries to sell us on romance, but it’s hard to feel invested when the logic keeps tripping over itself. Loopholes everywhere—characters teleporting between emotional states, plot threads dropped like hot potatoes, and a goblin queen who shows up just to be cryptic and leave. It’s painfully obvious the budget was tighter than Ban Sook’s jeans.
In the end, Kiss Goblin is a meh watch. Not offensively bad, but not good enough to recommend. It’s the kind of drama you put on when you’re folding laundry and don’t want to commit to actual storytelling. Watch it if you’re curious, but don’t expect it to kiss your brain with brilliance.
I went into this drama with low expectations, but surprise surprise—it actually hit hard. The ratings were meh, but this one proved you can’t trust the numbers.
The noble idiocy here? For once, it works. Lin Qian hiding her illness didn’t feel like a tired trope—it felt real, painful, and kind of brave. No over-the-top self-sacrifice, just quiet heartbreak done right. Lin Qian’s character comes alive once she finds out she’s dying. Before that, she’s just going through the motions. After? She’s magnetic. Her choices finally feel her own, and watching her live like she’s running out of time makes you root for her.
Romance-wise, it’s slow but solid. She and Fu Yu Chuan don’t explode into love—they inch into it. Lots of awkward quiet, soft stares, and finally, some real feeling that doesn’t feel forced. This is understandable since they’re dating with death looming (granted, only one of them knows about it), but somehow this works.
Bittersweet’s the name of the game. Sure, it has some issues, and forgets about side characters now and then, but it delivers. Unexpectedly tender, just enough hurt, and a lead who finally gives us something to feel. Glad I didn’t skip it.
Review Summary:The central idea, that an unattractive girl desires to be perceived as beautiful, is not an original…
The central idea, that an unattractive girl desires to be perceived as beautiful, is not an original concept. Beauty’s in the eye of the beholder; we all know this cliché, right?
Although the message of self-acceptance was important, the execution fell short due to poor scriptwriting. I thought Ahn Hyo Seop did an adequate job playing the lead, Park Se Gun; however, the character itself was not well-developed, and I did not find him particularly engaging. His redemption arc felt manufactured and lacked authenticity. I think his affection for FL stems not from genuine love, but from a sense of ease and comfort he experiences in her presence, leading him to perceive her as “lovable.”
To Se Gun, who was used to a certain type of girl, Nan Hee was a refreshing change, a novelty like a shiny toy that stood out from his previous dating experiences. In addition, his concern appeared to be keeping Nan Hee’s best friend from getting the FL, and therefore, I am inclined to believe that he was only settling for Nan Hee until someone better comes along.
Speaking of shiny toys, Nan Hee is no different. While her preoccupation with appearances was understandable, given her low self-esteem, it frequently became intensely infuriating. The so-called “best friend” Mi Joo was no better. She just uses Nan Hee as a prop to highlight her own beauty, like how she uses Tae Hyun when it’s convenient. The only redeemable character here is probably Nan Hee’s mother, who is trying to teach her daughter a lesson in a roundabout way.
By the time I finished watching this drama, I couldn't care less about any of the characters and just felt relieved that I can tick this off my list.
The central idea, that an unattractive girl desires to be perceived as beautiful, is not an original concept. Beauty’s in the eye of the beholder; we all know this cliché, right? Although the message of self-acceptance was important, the execution fell short due to poor scriptwriting.
By the time I finished watching this drama, I couldn't care less about any of the characters and just felt relieved that I can tick this off my list.
Review Summary:Over the last 4-5 years, I’ve adopted a policy of dropping dramas that fail to engage me early…
First, I had issues with the pacing. Although the cinematography in this low-budget drama was undeniably beautiful, I unfortunately found myself compelled to repeatedly fast-forward through numerous excessively long shots of rain and snow, which, while visually appealing, ultimately proved to be somewhat tedious and distracting from the narrative.
Secondarily, the drama presented the ML as an unlikeable character. I understand the rivals-to-couple-back-to-enemies-to-lovers trope, but I wouldn’t date someone who repeatedly tried to kill me. Therefore, I deeply admired the SML’s sacrifices for the FL and his unwavering loyalty.
Thirdly, since I had no intention of continuing with this drama, I checked the ending and discovered both main characters died. Mind you, I am not against a tragic ending if the plot calls for it. I knew, in fact, that at least one had to die, but not both, particularly given how it concluded. Their deaths would have been acceptable if logical, but abandoning their child is infuriatingly selfish. The idea of supporting someone who would resort to suicide after their partner’s death fills me with an immense sadness. As a parent, leaving my child because of my heartbreak is unacceptable; my child deserves better than to be orphaned.
Given what I know now, I’m happy I didn’t waste my time on a mildly interesting drama—or I would have burst a coronary.
Over the last 4-5 years, I’ve adopted a policy of dropping dramas that fail to engage me early on. There’s probably over 300 dramas that I rated 7.0 below, and in a lot of these cases, I regret having finished these low-rated dramas solely to avoid the social pressure or sense of obligation or just for the sake of saying that I’ve watched them.
In retrospect, I could have allocated my time to alternative entertainment options; however, my viewing habits were less discerning in the past due to a limited selection of high-quality dramas, whereas the current proliferation of excellent dramas has enabled me to cultivate a more selective approach to my viewing choices.
This rather long segue for a drama that I dropped is perhaps unnecessary, since I have already exceeded my tolerance and continued despite my disinterest, hoping I would change my opinion, but I didn’t.
interested to know which other drama that does the “segue between first n second life” better. because if…
I'm walking back my comment on the transition in SKP after watching Supervisor Husband.
I think SKP did the best they could because of Chinese censorship. If it weren't for these regulations, I doubt that these scenes would be included. These are only obligatory scenes to pass censor,so; I just have to ignore these scenes, and all will be fine. But sadly, it dampens the experience. But oh well, it is what it is.
2 
What's wrong with secretary Kim , justice in the dark
This is not only disrespectful, but violence against another person and yes I will call it violence! Just because you don't hit the person physically or see blood coming out, it doesn't mean the victim feels any less hurt or traumatized.
If they hold a fan meeting, the fans can scream all they want but this is clearly NOT an event sanctioned by his company where fans are allowed to greet their faves.
Also, Whoever leak these information, their flight schedule, what flight, etc etc for these people to get their hands on tickets should be ashamed of themselves.
This is NOT fan behavior. A true fan knows how to respect boundaries and if they truly profess to idolize or love him, they should think about the artist' well being first.
So for historical top 5 would be The Untamed, WOH, MLC, TBOY, Mr. Queen.
For Contemporary, too 5 would be Hidden Love, Business Proposal, WWWSK, You're Beautiful and JITD.
For short dramas, top 5 are Save Myself, Grab Your Love, Secretary Bai, The Killer is Also Romantic and A Familiar Stranger.
The setup flips the Dong Lan Xue dynamic: Qi Xia Xia is the royal this time, and Jin Chao is the quiet, dutiful guard who could kill someone with a hairpin if they blinked the wrong way. It’s not groundbreaking, but the reversal works. Their dynamic actually feels earned — there’s push and pull, power imbalance, and enough “forbidden but not really” glances to keep me invested without rolling my eyes every five seconds. Plus, Jin Chao’s stoic loyalty with just a hint of barely-contained emotion? Yes, thank you, more of that.
It’s a quick watch, and surprisingly, the palace intrigue doesn’t feel like filler. There’s scheming, poisonings, framed crimes — you know, the essentials — but it moves fast and doesn’t pretend it’s Nirvana in Fire. And honestly, that’s fine. This drama knows what it is: a short-form ride with pretty people, political tension, and actual pacing.
Still, I couldn’t help but think — with a real budget and a major TV time-slot, this could’ve hit harder. Some plot threads deserved more than five minutes of runtime before getting resolved by monologue or offscreen arrest. But even with its limits, it never lost sight of the core: Qi Xia Xia and Jin Chao. That pairing carried everything, and I’m glad it didn’t disappoint. Not all microdramas get that right — this one did.
The meet-cute setup worked better than it had any right to. A flirty prankster morphs into a genuine love interest, and the transition doesn’t feel forced. There’s something refreshing about watching their chemistry unfold, even if the jealous third wheel shows up right on cue. Obligatory mean-girl archetype included, but she’s less of a threat and more of a checkbox.
Is it groundbreaking? No. But it’s decent. The pacing doesn’t drag, the emotional beats aren’t overplayed, and you get enough character movement to feel satisfied. A reliable comfort watch—nothing profound, but polished enough to avoid cringe. It lands somewhere in the middle between breezy distraction and real connection.
Just don’t follow it into Season 2. That installment showed up with a personality transplant and a warning label. The tone unravels, characters flatten out, and whatever spark Season 1 had quietly fizzles. Watch the first, skip the sequel—unless you’re collecting disappointment for sport.
Then there’s the torture. Endless scenes of physical suffering, mostly aesthetic but rarely justified. A handful of knife stabs, limping dramatically through empty courtyards, that one blood-spitting close-up they reused twice. These Chinese shorts have a fascination with pain as a narrative shortcut—but here, it just feels indulgent.
Emotionally, I struggled with the lead’s moral compass. She’s ambitious, but the kind that discards affection like it’s a paper receipt. I get she has goals, but sacrificing those who care for her with little remorse makes her hard to root for. Not ruthless—just plain cold.
Final straw? They did the fake sister villain dirty. Her character was paper-thin, evil in a way that felt mean-spirited, not layered. Meanwhile Ke Yun stumbles through betrayal only to be gifted a last-minute redemption arc. Two evil siblings. One gets humiliated, the other gets closure. Guess which one’s male.
I watched this drama because TikTok edits sold me a dream: two top micro-drama leads, loaded with chemistry, a modern palace setting—what’s not to like? Turns out, the drama banks on the idea that changing your name makes you magically unrecognizable. At least in Xi Yue's mind, she thought everyone will forget her face like royal amnesia is trending.
Full Review in the spoiler below:
Like how I am thoroughly enjoying Study Group, where there is tons of school bullying and violence but I still felt entertained. I don't rate a drama based on the lack of skinship , as this is not a deal breaker for me. My opinion is solely dependent on the drama itself and whether it meets the standards that I have set myself to say whether I enjoyed it or not. I could rate a drama like a 2 out of 10 even though I completed it, because I felt it was such a disappointment or waste of time, or I can rate a 7 out of 10 a drama that I dropped, which I did in this case, because, regardless of how I feel about it, I think it at least deserved some points for the tight production etc etc.
Forums are for exchanges of perspective no matter how different they are from others. I believe we are entitled to give a 10 to largely lambasted dramas, or a 2 to a critically acclaimed drama. A rating is only 1 person's subjective opinion, that would hardly sway the masses, that is why there is an algorithm here to calculate weighted mean plus some secret sauce that MDL collectively decides on.
So unless 100s of people gave this a low score or bad reviews, please treat it as white noise.
And yes—I was entertained. Genuinely. The pacing is tight, the episodes short enough to binge without guilt, and the plot doesn’t take itself too seriously. It leans into tropes but doesn’t drown in them. The Mary Sue system is ridiculous, but the drama knows it and plays along. There’s enough humor, tension, and romantic nonsense to keep things moving, and I didn’t once feel the need to rage-quit.
But then came the final minute. Cue the dreaded Chinese censorship. Just when the emotional payoff was about to land, the screen pulled a bait-and-switch so abrupt I thought my Wi-Fi glitched. Whatever just happened—kiss, confession, closure—got sanitized into oblivion. It’s like the drama ran full speed toward catharsis and got tackled by the censorship board at the finish line.
Still, this drama is a fun watch. Not deep, not flawless, but entertaining in a way that makes you forgive the occasional logic gaps and system-induced nonsense. Just brace yourself for the ending to fizzle—not because the story failed, but because someone upstairs decided emotional satisfaction was too spicy.
This is what happens when someone takes the chaotic charm of "Scumbag System" and wraps it in a candy-colored transmigration plot with a kiss-powered heroine. It’s got the same “system rules your life” setup, the same reluctant villain love interest, and the same sense that the universe is one big fanfic generator with a glitchy AI. If you liked Scumbag System’s blend of meta-humor and emotional sabotage, this one scratches a similar itch—just with more lip balm.
Full review in the spoiler below:
Now let’s address the dual lead dilemma. Su Cheng Xi and Sui Han Bai—same flowing hair, same brooding stare, same aura of tragic backstory. I spent a good chunk of time confused about who was who. Did production run out of wigs or just want to test my observational skills? Anyway, they’re both competent and compelling once you figure out which one’s talking.
And yes, they absolutely need to stop flirting with each other. Or don’t—because I’m all for a good bromantic slow burn. The glances? Intense. The tension? Delicious. They could fight each other or make out—I’d probably still cheer. Whether intentional or not, their chemistry walks the line between rivalry and something suspiciously more... layered.
Overall, this is a solid pick if you can handle a few pacing hiccups and narrative fog. It’s got heart, a compelling premise, and plenty of room for subtext if you squint. Just don’t trust the ratings—they clearly missed the memo.
The female lead, Seo Ji Soo, tries her best with what she's given. Her performance isn’t groundbreaking, but hey—it’s her first time leading, and the show’s runtime barely gives her room to breathe. For a short series, it’s forgivable. The dual roles are cute on paper, but the execution? A little too rushed to leave much impact.
There’s a romance simmering, but it never boils. Emotional moments come and go before they stick, and by the final episode, I was hoping for resolution with actual weight. Instead, the ending limps toward closure like it forgot there’s no guarantee viewers will watch the sequel (especially since the reviews scream “Don’t bother”).
Overall, it’s not a terrible watch. It’s light, mildly entertaining, and occasionally sweet—but don’t expect it to sweep you off your feet. This is drama purgatory: not bad enough to roast, not good enough to rave. Watch it if you’re curious, but prepare for a finish that fizzles.
Let’s talk about Oh Yeon Ah, the female lead. She’s supposed to be strong-willed, but ends up tagging along while Ban Sook kisses other women like it’s a sport. What woman in her right mind agrees to be the emotional support buddy while her crush locks lips with strangers? Unless she’s a masochist with a martyr complex, this setup makes zero sense. And don’t get me started on the exorcist subplot—apparently, a regular human can protect a supernatural being from a trained assassin. Sure, dude.
The show tries to sell us on romance, but it’s hard to feel invested when the logic keeps tripping over itself. Loopholes everywhere—characters teleporting between emotional states, plot threads dropped like hot potatoes, and a goblin queen who shows up just to be cryptic and leave. It’s painfully obvious the budget was tighter than Ban Sook’s jeans.
In the end, Kiss Goblin is a meh watch. Not offensively bad, but not good enough to recommend. It’s the kind of drama you put on when you’re folding laundry and don’t want to commit to actual storytelling. Watch it if you’re curious, but don’t expect it to kiss your brain with brilliance.
The noble idiocy here? For once, it works. Lin Qian hiding her illness didn’t feel like a tired trope—it felt real, painful, and kind of brave. No over-the-top self-sacrifice, just quiet heartbreak done right. Lin Qian’s character comes alive once she finds out she’s dying. Before that, she’s just going through the motions. After? She’s magnetic. Her choices finally feel her own, and watching her live like she’s running out of time makes you root for her.
Romance-wise, it’s slow but solid. She and Fu Yu Chuan don’t explode into love—they inch into it. Lots of awkward quiet, soft stares, and finally, some real feeling that doesn’t feel forced. This is understandable since they’re dating with death looming (granted, only one of them knows about it), but somehow this works.
Bittersweet’s the name of the game. Sure, it has some issues, and forgets about side characters now and then, but it delivers. Unexpectedly tender, just enough hurt, and a lead who finally gives us something to feel. Glad I didn’t skip it.
Although the message of self-acceptance was important, the execution fell short due to poor scriptwriting. I thought Ahn Hyo Seop did an adequate job playing the lead, Park Se Gun; however, the character itself was not well-developed, and I did not find him particularly engaging. His redemption arc felt manufactured and lacked authenticity. I think his affection for FL stems not from genuine love, but from a sense of ease and comfort he experiences in her presence, leading him to perceive her as “lovable.”
To Se Gun, who was used to a certain type of girl, Nan Hee was a refreshing change, a novelty like a shiny toy that stood out from his previous dating experiences. In addition, his concern appeared to be keeping Nan Hee’s best friend from getting the FL, and therefore, I am inclined to believe that he was only settling for Nan Hee until someone better comes along.
Speaking of shiny toys, Nan Hee is no different. While her preoccupation with appearances was understandable, given her low self-esteem, it frequently became intensely infuriating. The so-called “best friend” Mi Joo was no better. She just uses Nan Hee as a prop to highlight her own beauty, like how she uses Tae Hyun when it’s convenient. The only redeemable character here is probably Nan Hee’s mother, who is trying to teach her daughter a lesson in a roundabout way.
By the time I finished watching this drama, I couldn't care less about any of the characters and just felt relieved that I can tick this off my list.
The central idea, that an unattractive girl desires to be perceived as beautiful, is not an original concept. Beauty’s in the eye of the beholder; we all know this cliché, right? Although the message of self-acceptance was important, the execution fell short due to poor scriptwriting.
By the time I finished watching this drama, I couldn't care less about any of the characters and just felt relieved that I can tick this off my list.
Full Review in the Spoiler below:
Secondarily, the drama presented the ML as an unlikeable character. I understand the rivals-to-couple-back-to-enemies-to-lovers trope, but I wouldn’t date someone who repeatedly tried to kill me. Therefore, I deeply admired the SML’s sacrifices for the FL and his unwavering loyalty.
Thirdly, since I had no intention of continuing with this drama, I checked the ending and discovered both main characters died. Mind you, I am not against a tragic ending if the plot calls for it. I knew, in fact, that at least one had to die, but not both, particularly given how it concluded. Their deaths would have been acceptable if logical, but abandoning their child is infuriatingly selfish. The idea of supporting someone who would resort to suicide after their partner’s death fills me with an immense sadness. As a parent, leaving my child because of my heartbreak is unacceptable; my child deserves better than to be orphaned.
Given what I know now, I’m happy I didn’t waste my time on a mildly interesting drama—or I would have burst a coronary.
Over the last 4-5 years, I’ve adopted a policy of dropping dramas that fail to engage me early on. There’s probably over 300 dramas that I rated 7.0 below, and in a lot of these cases, I regret having finished these low-rated dramas solely to avoid the social pressure or sense of obligation or just for the sake of saying that I’ve watched them.
In retrospect, I could have allocated my time to alternative entertainment options; however, my viewing habits were less discerning in the past due to a limited selection of high-quality dramas, whereas the current proliferation of excellent dramas has enabled me to cultivate a more selective approach to my viewing choices.
This rather long segue for a drama that I dropped is perhaps unnecessary, since I have already exceeded my tolerance and continued despite my disinterest, hoping I would change my opinion, but I didn’t.
Full review in the spoiler below:
I think SKP did the best they could because of Chinese censorship. If it weren't for these regulations, I doubt that these scenes would be included.
These are only obligatory scenes to pass censor,so; I just have to ignore these scenes, and all will be fine. But sadly, it dampens the experience. But oh well, it is what it is.