
Spring of Youth – K-drama Episode 10 Recap, Review & Ending Explained
Episode 10 of Spring of Youth begins with Tae-yang rushing towards Sa Gye and stopping him from touching the mic while singing. However, Tae-yang touches the mic himself in the process and passes out. He is rushed to the hospital as Sa Gye realises he knew the truth about his father.
Secretary Kang runs up and tells Sang-heon and Min-cheol what happened. Min-cheol arrives at the hospital in a panic but the doctor tells him that Tae-yang will recover. Bom realises Sa Gye knows something about Min-cheol but he doesn't tell her the truth.
Instead, he runs out and calls Detective Min, the detective he's been talking to. He asks him to come to the broadcast station and find proof that this wasn't an accident. As the detective searches the site, he finds that the electricity went out for a few minutes. Sa Gye tells him that the mics must have been switched at that time.
Meanwhile, Seung-su stops Secretary Kang from leaving and calls the police as well. Sa Gye even speaks to Reporter Han, who confesses that he's been working on a secret piece on Seo Min-cheol. It details how Min-cheol let an old woman die at the hospital in order to favour a politician's surgery.
At the hospital, Tae-yang's vitals are good but he doesn't wake up. Sang-heon visits Min-cheol and when Min-cheol returns to the hospital room, he finds the bed empty.
At home, Ja-young tells Bom and the others about a security guard who made her delete the photos in her camera when he caught her taking pictures. The man was none other than Secretary Kang. Luckily, she later took a video of him going into the security office. The next thing we know, Kang is arrested and the police arrive at Jo & Jo to arrest Sang-heon as well.
Min-cheol realises Tae-yang is going to his mother's grave and heads over there. He finds Tae-yang standing at the edge of a cliff. Tae-yang calls his father cruel and says he's ashamed of his life. Min-cheol begs him not to and Tae-yang says he'll step down if Min-cheol confesses the truth.
Bom goes to the police station with the video Ja-young recorded. She and Sa Gye go inside, where Sang-heon and Secretary Kang are being interrogated. The accident comes up as well but suddenly, Ji-na and Secretary Kang turn things around and blame Sa Gye and Bom of having a grudge against Sang-heon.
However, Min-cheol arrives and offers a full confession. Now, Bom learns the truth about her mother's murder. The whole thing comes out and Min-cheol even has a recording of Sang-heon that implicates him. Bom is naturally distraught.
She's even angry at Sa Gye for not telling her the truth sooner and tells him she doesn't want to see him. Sa Gye also realises he should have told her the truth sooner. The public learns about it as well but Bom spends her days shut up in her room.
One day, Sa Gye suddenly finds her room empty. A letter from Bom says she will be gone for a while to look for what makes her happy. Soon after that, we learn that Sa Gye disappeared as well. The scene shifts to two years later. We see Bom arrive in South Korea and leave the airport. Tae-yang comes out as well and we learn he's been volunteering to help sick people.
Bom gets a warm welcome at home from Ja-young, Gyu-ri and Jin-gu. Bom thanks Gyu-ri for sending her food in the US but Gyu-ri claims it wasn't her. Ja-young brings up Sa Gye and says she hasn't heard from him since he got discharged from the military. Gyu-ri quickly changes the topic and talks about how Bom has sold her songs to top artists.
Meanwhile, Sa Gye is with his mother at her old salon. Although she's quite bad at haircuts and has resorted to selling side dishes instead. Bom and Sa Gye both keep thinking about each other. Sa Gye buys a bagel from the shop they had gone to but ends up giving it to a girl instead.
She recognises him and posts a picture on social media, which finds its way to Bom. Bom then brings out the fox toy she won at his concert and remembers that he had promised the winner a date.
That night, Bom, Gyu-ri, and Jin-gu head out for dinner and come across Tae-yang. Bom goes after him and tells him to be at peace, since none of it was his fault. She even thanks him for being there for her and promises to see him again.
Sometime later, Tae-yang finds Sa Gye outside his house. Sa Gye knows he's been working with a non-profit and tells him to pursue his talents instead. He then gives Tae-yang an envelope that contains a flash drive. It's got a video of the group's early days as a band, which makes Tae-yang tear up.
Sa Gye then meets with Seung-su, who has started his own entertainment company and brought The Crown back. But Sunder (the lead singer) is unwell and Seung-su wants Sa Gye to fill in for him. Sa Gye sings and plays the guitar from behind a curtain.
Meanwhile, Jin-gu calls his father and begs him to meet his girlfriend. He then texts Sa Gye through his anonymous account Game Money and tells him to get the guitar to Hanju University (because he knows Bom is going there). Gyu-ri enters his room and the two are messing around when they fall over each other.
Bom officially drops out of the university to focus on her songwriting career. She comes across Sa Gye at the same place they'd first met on campus. He returns her necklace and admits he's been a mess. Bom admits she was waiting for him and asks why he never called. She knows he was the one sending her food. She then reminds him of all the promises he made, pulling out the fox toy as well, to which Sa Gye finally relents and embraces her. He promises to never leave again.
Spring of Youth Episode 10 ends with Two Sa Gye back together, playing Bom's song.
The Episode Review
Episode 10 brings Spring of Youth to a close and the finale is a mixed bag. It wraps up the Sang-heon and Min-cheol case quite quickly in the first half. Tae-yang uses his life to bargain with his father and it works; his confession brings everything down. The second half then dawdles, stretching out Bom's grieving process while not actually letting us in on it. While I understand her need to get away and process everything, the story might have had more impact had she found out the truth earlier. That way, we could have seen her grieve and also watch her relationship with Sa Gye grow.
But, as per what seems to be a tradition in K-dramas, the main couple is forced apart into a long, drawn-out separation. A quick time jump later, their wounds have healed and they reunite. But the audience misses out on the road that got them there. It's still a happy ending in the end, though and as the final scenes suggest, Tae-yang gets back with the gang. A few minor things but it would have been nice for everyone to find out about Jin-gu's background and some closure on his relationship with Gyu-ri would have rounded everything off. Still, these characters are endearing enough that leaving them feels bittersweet.
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A writer whose previous books include histories of punctuation symbols and the pocket calculator, Houston is less interested in sociolinguistic details than telling stories. 'Just as Johannes Gutenberg's print press hammered spelling and punctuation into conformity by sheer multiplicative force,' he argues, 'so emojis act as a kind of straitjacket for language, smoothing out what we want to say by restricting what we can say.' According to Adobe, one in three members of Gen Z has ended a relationship by using an emoji. But are emojis actually 'restricting' us? Our writing may, as Houston suggests, become 'moulded to fit the emojis that we have been given', but these little icons in reality provide no proscriptions. 'We' don't use them in a consistent or coherent way. Indeed, though the emoji system is young, it's already clear that it'll never become a single language, an Esperanto for the internet age. Emoji syntax, for instance, varies with the user's mother tongue: studies show that although Mandarin shares the subject-verb-object word order of English, Chinese speakers are more likely to structure emoji phrases as 'You love I' rather than 'I love you'. And the use of emojis often resembles a local argot. Depending on the context, the snowman and horse emojis may be childlike symbols, suggestions for leisure activities, or drug slang. Even 'slightly smiling face' – the seemingly tamest icon – is often deployed as a harrowing expression of condescension. The result is that, even though around 10 billion emojis are sent every day, no one can say with certainty what many of them mean. Consider 'man in business suit levitating' – an emoji imported from the 1990s 'dingbat typeface' Webdings – originally based on a logo depicting the reggae artist Peter Tosh. Journalists trying to explain emojis to their readers have variously assured them that it connotes grumpiness, irony and enthusiasm. Indian users have assumed that it's a picture of the veteran actor Rajinikanth. It means nothing for everyone; it means something to some. All emojis do.