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My Dearest: Episodes 20-21 (Final)
by alathe
It’s been a long, long road, and our heroes yearn for a quiet, uneventful life. Unfortunately, life has its own plans. Our hero has too many obligations, and our heroine, too much of a penchant for self-sacrifice. Well, actually, they both have that. Is there any hope of a happy ending?
EPISODES 20-21
Gil-chae rests her head on Jang-hyun’s shoulder. Jang-hyun, innocent as pie, looks at her wide-eyed, and asks, “Who are you?”… before cracking. She grins back. Please, Jang-hyun, let’s not even joke about a repeat of last episode. The mood, however, is thoroughly shattered when Jang-hyun inquires after the crown prince’s wellbeing. Awkward doesn’t even begin to cover it.
Back in the palace, Eunuch Pyo receives worse news still: a thank you from his boss. After all, the chief eunuch, he of the world’s toothiest smile, couldn’t have choreographed the crown prince’s death without him. Nothing could have been further from Eunuch Pyo’s intentions. He had only hoped to help the prince by reporting his achievements in Qing. Distraught, the poor guy drinks poison — the same slow-acting horror that left the princess alive for two days straight. With his last breath, he tells Jang-hyun of the prince’s secret letter.
Jang-hyun isn’t the only one: word of the letter has spread like wildfire through the palace. The king, still seeing traitors behind every corner, is convinced it contained secret instructions to Qing, by way of “Yang-chun,” leader of the rebels — a man soon identified as none other than Jang-hyun. This makes what ensues looks really bad. Gak-hwa, still intent on winning Jang-hyun for her own, rides through the capital with a vengeance. An order is issued: the Qing delegation demand Jang-hyun’s appearance.
And none too soon. Jang-hyun is cornered by the king’s own men, shortly to be stabbed a whole bunch — only for Gak-hwa’s command to save him. Seconds ago, he faced summary execution; now, he’s making nice over barbecue with the Qing general. One person is unexpectedly livid at this turn of events: Yeon-joon. He’s repulsed by Jang-hyun’s seeming cooperation with the Qing — and primed to be especially sanctimonious about it. Jang Cheol has been pouring poison in his ear about how Joseon must retain its purity. Meanwhile, Eun-ae gathered up the courage to share how she was almost raped… and on a scale of one to oof, let’s just say his reaction did not score low.
As for the infamous letter? Well, Jang-hyun has promises to keep, and miles to go before he sleeps — and once again, Gil-chae must endure it all. The prince, consumed by guilt over having abandoned the captives, has left Jang-hyun inordinate amounts of silver. With this, he can buy them back and finally send them home. Still, even after money is exchanged, things are tense as Yang-chun and the captives cross the fields. There have been too many brutal false starts. But this time, it’s for real. One by one, the Qing soldiers lay down their swords. Yang-chun meets Jang-hyun’s eyes — and both break out into smiles, even as Jang-hyun weeps.
Here’s the thing: in Joseon, Jang-hyun is a wanted man about ten times over. Gil-chae, despising the words as she wrote them, had sent him a letter begging him to stay in Qing. However, luckily, her martyrdom is no match for Jang-hyun’s planet-sized devotion. Gil-chae, he informs a deceptively calm Gak-hwa, is his home — and even if the outcome is death, he will make his way back to her. Even if Gak-hwa brandishes a knife to his throat. Even if she finally lets herself cry. Eventually, though she can’t bear to look at him, she gives her consent for him to leave. General Yong gets the last word, with a toast of his drink: “Farewell, you useful bastard!”
Of course, there is use — or rather, need — for him yet. Re-homing hundreds of captives will be no small feat. To the shocked delight of his friends, Jang-hyun returns to Uiju, organizing their efforts to keep everyone fed and clothed, with a roof over their heads. In the meantime, he sends dreamy love letters to Gil-chae — plus Goo Jam, who has decamped ahead of time to throw himself into Jong Jong’s arms. Ryang-eum, meanwhile, ever the activist, has found renewed hope. He even goes as far as to smirk at Jang-hyun and tell him this will be their last madcap scheme. What — did he think he’d follow him around forever? Kid, I’m rooting for you: hang onto that newfound scrap of self-esteem!
Meanwhile, Gil-chae’s home for waifs and strays is expanding: every day, she welcomes more of Jang-hyun’s people. This, rather wonderfully, includes translator extraordinaire Deul-bun, who finally reunites with her son. But there’s one more reunion on the horizon. After months of increasingly impatient anticipation, Gil-chae looks out to the road and finds that Jang-hyun has kept his word. Here he is, looking as handsome and insouciant as ever. She hurls her arms around him, with a jubilant shout of “Dear husband!” — which, for old time’s sake, he is obliged make fun of. Albeit not for long. All right, he says, in utter seriousness. Let us be husband and wife.
Cue a wedding. No, not for our leads — with a whole episode to go, and half the cast still standing, who do you take our writer for? It’s for Jong Jong and Goo Jam, both of whom look radiantly happy. In fact, Jang-hyun takes it upon himself to let Gil-chae know just how happy they look. Like, really, truly, love-of-their-life happy. And, you know, while they’re on the topic of matrimony… well. Ahem.
Gil-chae shoots him a mischievous glance. Didn’t Jang-hyun say it himself? There’s no need to be bound by formality. She, for one, is convinced; sign her up for a life of free love and excitement! Jang-hyun stutters, agrees, and looks rather like a man drowning, but quietly so as not to cause a fuss. With a trademark grin that is 60% more smug than usual, Gil-chae announces that she won’t be predictable at all. For one thing, she’ll be the one to propose to him. So, will he marry her? And so, the two start to plan their perfectly ordinary, gloriously un-exciting life together.
Life in the big city didn’t exactly go as Gil-chae dreamed. At the end of the day, all she really wants is a two-room house near Neunggun-ri. Flowers in spring? Check. Homemade grape wine is a must. Jang-hyun is in delighted agreement. But there’s one thing that threatens this pastoral future: the shadowy prologue from Episode 1. Our mysterious, silver-haired prisoner from the start is, of course, none other than Ryang-eum — still fiercely determined to learn what happened to Jang-hyun.
The king, whose indiscriminate palace slaughters have not gone down so well in the Joseon opinion polls, is keen to reassert control. For this, he needs a scholar to act as government shill. And guess who he’s got prime dirt on? None other than professional curmudgeon, Jang Cheol. Turns out Cheol’s father was hardly the picture of Confucian righteousness: he’s notorious for spreading false accusations against another family. The king is only too happy to reopen this can of worms… that is, unless Cheol takes responsibility for arresting the “rebels” from Qing. Consequently, Yang-chun and his community of former captives are landed squarely in the soup for holding a memorial rite for the disgraced crown princess.
There’s no alternative: Jang-hyun must face the man he once called father. On an even unlikelier front, he must appeal to his better nature. Our hero wastes no time in pretense; instead, he introduces himself as Cheol’s long-lost son. Finally, the full truth comes out. Jang-hyun’s sister, Yi-dan, was in love with Sam-do, the son of the family Cheol’s father betrayed. Despite the fact that he’d been enslaved by the Jang family, Sam-do foreswore his vengeance in favor of a quiet life with Yi-dan. Spare us, he’d begged Cheol. We’ll live as if we were dead — you never need hear from us again.
Instead, bogged down by dogma — and, more importantly, fears for his own future — Cheol beat him to death. Then, he sent Yi-dan on an errand across an icy river in the middle of winter, a clear order to kill herself. She didn’t dare refuse. Jang-hyun tells his father in no uncertain terms that he’d known what he was doing when he ran away. He’d wanted to deprive Cheol of the thing he loved the most. This time, he says, believe me. We’ll live as if we were dead. So, let the captives go… or I swear I’ll destroy everything you love.
Instead, Cheol retreats to the surrogate son he has molded in his image, Yeon-joon. Sacrificing that which we hate, he declares, is meaningless. The greatest loyalty comes from sacrificing what we love. Thus, in the name of, uh, love, he writes a treatise brimful of chauvinistic vitriol: a declaration that traitors, women raped by invaders, gay people, and basically anyone else he dislikes are defiling the nation. As such, he’s issuing the order to kill. Then, having condemned his son and countless innocents to death, he hangs himself.
As the captives flee for their lives yet again, Yang-chun resolves to buy them time. Sending In-ok and the others on ahead, he calls to their pursuers, drawing fire. Arrows fly. He falls to the dirt, dead — and I virtually choke on my own tears. The others escape to Gil-chae’s house, where they prepare to decamp to Neunggun-ri. Yet again, Gil-chae is forced to watch as Jang-hyun waves her goodbye, a smile plastered bravely on his face. Meanwhile, Ryang-eum changes into Jang-hyun’s blue robe, ready to die in his stead. Our hero’s not the only glutton for self-sacrifice. But he’s caught in the act; Jang-hyun knocks him out cold. Who does Ryang-eum think he is? This town’s not big enough for two martyr complexes!
And so, with the most combat-capable captives at his back, Jang-hyun confronts the royal troops… led by the ever-fanatical Yeon-joon. If they only surrender, he insists, there’ll be fair trials all round. I wonder, says Jang-hyun, if you’re really that naive — or are you just pretending not to know? As swords are drawn, we fast-forward to that glorious, bitter scene from the very first episode: Jang-hyun on the beach, surrounded and dying. He grasps at his last threads of strength. Fighters fall. Yeon-joon, standing by a team of archers, barks out for them to hold fire — but they refuse. As arrow plummet through the air, Jang-hyun closes his eyes.
Later, Yeon-joon too tries to hang himself. Eun-ae finds him in the nick of time. He wakes to find Eun-ae and — to his surprise — a numb-looking Gil-chae at his bedside. The only comfort he can give her is that he did not witness Jang-hyun die. An old man witnessed him stumbling on the beach, bleeding out. Alive or dead, Gil-chae resolves to find him. The old man gives her astounding news: Jang-hyun is alive. However, he has — oh god, please no — no memory — not again — of who — drama gods have mercy! — he is.
All jokes aside, it’s actually really beautiful. Gil-chae tracks Jang-hyun across the country, hearing from each witness about the fragments of memory he retains of the woman he loves. He remembers there’s something he needs to tell her. He remembers she was willing to wait. He says he’s following the sound of flowers. Gil-chae realizes he’s tracing her back to the day they first met. To Neunggun-ri. Here, she finds a two-room house surrounded by flowers — and Jang-hyun.
For a while, he is simply perplexed. He knows he was preparing this place for the woman he loves. Gil-chae replies that she is looking for her husband — a deeply handsome man! Jang-hyun, showing no recognition, lets her stay. In the dim light of morning, she follows him onto the beach. Help me find my husband, she says. She describes how he intended to build her a cottage. How he always kept his promises — and how there’s something she needs to ask him. What did he hear the day that they met, by the swing? Jang-hyun looks at her. Recognition clicks. The sound of flowers, he says. Then, as he holds her close: Gil-chae. I’ve waited for you, my dearest, for a long time.
Okay, so stick with me here, but… I can see why they did amnesia this time. No, but for real! We end with Gil-chae’s dream having been fulfilled. Exhausted, she wanders the land in search of her love, only to finally find him on the beach that signifies death and rebirth. At first, it was about her learning to truly see him; now, it’s about him recognizing her. This has been a series full of circles: the invasion that also happened a generation before; the relentless wheel of capture and escape; the endless cycle of romantic obsession. Our heroes make the same mistakes, over and over again. They mistake each other over and over again. And yet, at the end, they seize the chance to start again and do better. That said, I will resent that first amnesia arc forever.
Part 2 of this drama has had some soaring, beautiful moments… and also some clumsy ones. Making repetition a key narrative theme meant that you risked repeating the irritating things. They kept separating our leads for no reason — and in doing so, shifting the focus away from Gil-chae. Jang-hyun’s side of the story was so compelling — both the captives’ fight for freedom, and the deconstruction of his father’s murderous politics. However, this was at the expense of any meaningful screentime for our heroine. There were episodes where she more or less faded out of the picture until it was time to wave Jang-hyun sadly goodbye. Meanwhile, Jang-hyun had amnesia — but what’s the writer’s excuse for forgetting Ryang-eum?
The only reason these points eat at me is because I care so much about this series. I sobbed my heart out during the last episode. I’ll always remember those blistering moments of chemistry between our leads. I’ll look back on those ambitious, sweeping historical scenes and revel in all their glory. This show had so much heart, and so much drive — which, by the same token, made it obvious when they dropped the ball. Still, all in all… what a show. What an experience!
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