The plot twist in 'Initial D' where Natsuki Mogi cheats on Fujiwara Takumi?
Honestly, it wasn't just the fans who were baffled—people in the TV industry around Jing Yu were stunned too.
Episode 10 of 'Initial D' ended with a viewership rating of 8.88—a lucky number on the surface, but what everyone was really thinking was:
What about next week?
How could you even dare?!
It was like in Jing Yu's past life, when the drama adaptation of 'Storm Riders' had Bu Jingyun getting cuckolded by Jianchen—a lingering wound in the hearts of countless fans.
Or in 'The Return of the Condor Heroes', where Yin Zhiping became the "dragon rider"... how many pure romance fans cursed his name?
Plots like this are dangerous: a single misstep could send the whole series crashing in both viewership and public opinion.
At a time when 'Initial D' was performing so well—when Jing Yu could've easily taken the crown for highest winter season ratings just by playing it safe—he actually pulled this?
That very night, not only was Yunteng TV's website flooded with angry fans, but the whole industry was buzzing with the topic.
"He's lost it?"
"They say all geniuses have that pretentious streak!"
"Same with 'Hikaru no Go'—why did he have to kill Fujiwara no Sai? If Sai hadn't died, the story had so much more room to grow. Season 3 could've followed Hikaru Shindo and Akira Toya as they matured, Season 4 could've explored them competing for domestic titles in Great Zhou, and Season 5 could've shown them representing the country in international tournaments. As long as Sai lived, people would've kept watching. With the quality of 'Hikaru no Go', by Season 3 or 4, it could've easily averaged over 10% viewership. But no—he killed off Sai, and that ended the show in Season 2."
"Still, let's be honest—Sai's death didn't tank the ratings. In fact, viewership actually spiked afterward."
"That's totally different from a cheating plot! You could kill the main character, and fans wouldn't be half as furious as they are about this!"
"The show's been building goodwill for ten weeks—it better not all go down the drain now!"
"Everything depends on how Episode 11 handles it."
"Exactly. Whether the cheating plot ruins 'Initial D' depends on whether it serves a real purpose—or if it's just meant to disgust the audience."
"Audiences can accept the worst suffering for a protagonist—if it's meaningful. But if in one episode, the protagonist's dad chokes to death on peanuts, the next his mom slips on a banana peel and dies, and then he gets hit by a car and ends up crippled—that's just insulting the viewers."
"But seriously, what's the point of Natsuki cheating on Takumi? The whole point of the show is street racing, right?"
"That's why everyone's saying Episode 11 will be make-or-break. If it's handled poorly, the ratings will definitely drop."
"He's still young, after all. His contract's up in December—this was the time to play it safe, use the success of 'Initial D' to negotiate a top-tier deal. Instead, he pulls a stunt like this. You've gotta think long-term! Look at people like Li Xiang, Qian Ming, and Sun Mao—they all had their moments at the top, but the spark burned out in just a year or two. Now they can't even break 4% ratings with the Big Six."
On Set of 'Initial D'
It was early December, and the final scenes for the series were being shot over the next couple of weeks.
Jing Yu planned to end the show after Takumi's race against Kyoichi Sudo from the Emperor team.
As for all the filler in between, he was cutting what he could. After all, once Takumi defeated Ryosuke Takahashi, most of the viewer tension had already fizzled out.
Forcing a Season 2 or 3 wasn't impossible—but Jing Yu wasn't the type to live off one show forever.
"So… Teacher Jing Yu, you're really not going to change the script?"
Under pressure from the network and fans, Cheng Lie had no choice but to ask again.
There was still a window to fix it—film a few extra scenes and gloss over Episode 10's controversial content.
But once Episode 11 aired, the outcome would be locked in.
"I've said it many times—I'm not changing it," Jing Yu said, smiling as he looked at him.
Cheng Lie sighed. Over the past year, none of the network's suggested edits had ever moved Jing Yu. Still, it was Cheng's duty to convey the station's stance. What Jing Yu chose to do wasn't something he could control.
"Sigh…"
"Then… about renewing your contract," Cheng shifted the topic.
"No rush. Let's wait until the winter season ends."
Cheng's brow furrowed slightly. He leaned in.
"Teacher Jing Yu, putting aside your connection to Yunteng TV, we're friends, right?"
Jing Yu paused, then replied bluntly.
"Yes."
"Then I'm not asking as a Yunteng TV employee—but as a friend. Did you already strike a deal with one of the Big Six? Are you planning to leave next year?"
This was why the major networks never offered short-term contracts to promising writers.
One year—just too short.
But Jing Yu's case was even more extreme. If he came to Yunteng TV and delivered multiple 2%–3% rating hits in just a year, and then left as soon as the contract ended—
You could call that cold-blooded, profit-hungry, and ungrateful.
But looking at the shows Jing Yu created—their success didn't stem from Yunteng TV giving him exposure. It was Jing Yu who made viewers realize that outside the Big Six, Yunteng TV was a player too.
In a way, it was Jing Yu who elevated Yunteng TV's brand.
So if he decided to leave, Cheng Lie would feel bad—but couldn't say a word against it.
"No, I'm not interested in the Big Six," Jing Yu said directly. "You and I both know they can't offer better terms than Yunteng TV. Joining them might help win some awards or boost ratings thanks to their influence—but I don't care much about fame. What I care about… is how much lands in my wallet."
"I'm someone who values profit."
"Then why haven't you renewed with Yunteng TV yet? If you sign now, I can apply for a 100 million yuan budget for your spring drama. The station is fully prepared to center the next season around you!" Cheng Lie looked relieved, but quickly pressed further.
"Producer Cheng…" Jing Yu hesitated, then said, "We've been friends for a year now. No need to be so formal—just call me Jing Yu, and I'll call you Cheng Lie."
"Cheng Lie, I told you—I'm a profit-driven person."
"And clearly, I haven't renewed with Yunteng TV because it's not the move that gives me the most benefit right now." Jing Yu leaned against a railing.
"In fact, Cheng Lie… there's something I've been wanting to ask you these past few days."
"Do you want to spend your whole life at Yunteng TV?"
"Huh?" Cheng Lie froze.
"Jing Yu-sensei… what are you saying?"
"I'm asking—would you be interested in leaving Yunteng TV and starting our own production company?"
Jing Yu looked him in the eye.