Can This Love Be Translated?- Episodes 3-4

When Panic Meets Fate, and Paths Refuse to Untangle

Episode 3 of Can This Love Be Translated? opens right where the chaos left off, on the red carpet, with Mu-hee frozen mid-walk and the world watching. Hiro’s car arrives just behind hers, and while he’s waiting for her moment to pass, she suddenly stumbles. Not wanting to lose his chance to step out, Hiro exits anyway and instinctively catches her as she falls. It’s dramatic, unexpected, and immediately unforgettable.

That single moment ripples outward fast. Producers from a travel variety show called Romantic Trip see the clip and decide on the spot that Hiro and Mu-hee would make a perfect pairing. One stumble, one catch, and suddenly the industry wheels are turning.

Back in Japan, Ho-jin steps in quietly, taking Mu-hee to a doctor he knows. She explains that Yong-u spotted Ho-jin at their hotel, which is how she knew where to go for help. Mu-hee asks for anxiety medication and, with some hesitation, opens up about her visions of Do Ra-mi. She reveals that she was involved in a serious childhood accident that killed her parents, but she remembers none of it. The weight of that confession hangs heavily over the scene.

A brief flashback adds another layer of sadness. Ho-jin overhears Mu-hee’s relatives at the hospital, coldly telling the doctor that Mu-hee has cut ties with them and asking that she never be contacted again. It’s a quiet but devastating insight into how alone she’s been long before fame entered her life.

In the present, the doctor gives Mu-hee medication and advises her to undergo further tests back in Seoul. Before parting, Ho-jin gently reminds her to take care of herself and warns her not to drink at the event she’s attending that night. It’s a small moment, but it says a lot about how naturally protective he is, even when he tries not to be.

At the party, Mu-hee runs into Hiro again. He clearly expects a thank-you for catching her, but she mistakes his approach for a request for a photo. Even more awkward, she doesn’t recognize him at all. It’s an unintentionally funny moment that highlights just how overwhelmed and detached she’s become.

Meanwhile, the Romantic Trip producers reach out to Ho-jin to join the show as an interpreter. The concept involves traveling around the world, and his language skills make him an ideal fit. Ho-jin is caught off guard when he learns that Ji-seon is the one who recommended him.

That night, Jin-suk drags Ho-jin out for drinks and ends up very drunk. In the middle of it all, he casually drops a bombshell, he plans to marry Ji-seon within the month. When Ji-seon comes to pick him up, she asks Ho-jin whether he’ll take the TV job. Realizing the show would conveniently overlap with the wedding, Ho-jin agrees.

But fate isn’t done with him yet. When he arrives at the studio, he discovers that Mu-hee is the lead actress on Romantic Trip. During her preliminary interview, Mu-hee suddenly sees Do Ra-mi again. Her confidence crumbles, and she’s unable to answer properly, leaving an uncomfortable impression.

During a break, Yong-u speculates aloud that Ho-jin is probably only there because Ji-seon asked him to be. When Mu-hee and Ho-jin finally speak privately, tensions flare. Mu-hee explains that her test results came back normal, but Do Ra-mi hasn’t disappeared. Ho-jin snaps, accusing her of neglecting her own health. In return, Mu-hee brings up Ji-seon, hitting exactly where it hurts. Ho-jin admits he accepted the show to avoid the wedding, and the conversation spirals into a painful argument about whether they can even work together given how much they know about each other.

Ho-jin ultimately decides to quit.

Things take a darker turn when Mu-hee steps into an elevator afterward, only to find Do Ra-mi standing there. As the elevator descends, Do Ra-mi taunts her relentlessly, pushing Mu-hee into a full panic. When the doors open, the crew witnesses her crouched and screaming. She tries to laugh it off, but it’s clear she’s shaken. She tells Yong-u they should leave immediately.

Later, back home, Ho-jin and Mr Kim stumble upon an old family photo, Ho-jin, his parents, and Jin-suk, who was born to a different mother. Mr Kim gently brings up Mu-hee and warns Ho-jin that his words can be harsh, even when he doesn’t mean them to be.

Mu-hee reaches out first this time, asking Ho-jin to meet her at a restaurant. They apologize to each other, quietly acknowledging the hurt they caused. Mu-hee mentions that the show’s producers haven’t contacted her again and seems resigned to losing the opportunity. They talk about the aurora borealis, something they would have seen on the show, sharing a mutual sense of disappointment over another missed possibility.

Then, just as quickly, everything shifts again. Yong-u calls to tell Mu-hee that she’s been confirmed as part of Romantic Trip after all. Instead of excitement, panic sets in. Afraid of her anxiety spiraling during the shoot, Mu-hee realizes the one person who could truly help her is Ho-jin. Swallowing her pride, she asks him to come with her.

And this time, he says yes.

When Translation Isn’t Enough, and Feelings Start Slipping Through

Episode 4 of Can This Love Be Translated? leans fully into emotional misfires, half-truths, and the quiet chaos that happens when everyone is holding something back.

The episode opens with preliminary interviews for Romantic Trip, where both Hiro and Mu-hee learn who they’ll be traveling with. Mu-hee’s reaction is open and pleasantly surprised, while Hiro’s is noticeably sharper, hinting early on that this partnership isn’t going to be smooth.

Their first destination is Canada, where the cast and crew settle into their hotel. It’s here that Mu-hee finally realizes Hiro was the actor who caught her during the red carpet incident. Curious and a little unsettled, she asks Yong-u about Ho-jin, only to be told to stop thinking about him and focus on Hiro instead.

Behind the scenes, things are tense. Hiro clearly isn’t thrilled about being paired with Mu-hee, but Producer Kim manages to convince him to continue with the show, with Ho-jin quietly helping smooth things over. Producer Kim then asks Ho-jin to keep Hiro’s initial resistance a secret. In exchange, Ho-jin makes a request of his own: that the crew refer to Mu-hee by her real name, not her breakout character, Do Ra-mi.

At the hotel, Ho-jin, now sharing a room with Yong-u, asks whether Mu-hee likes Hiro. Yong-u casually says she does, and later repeats this to Mu-hee. Using Yong-u as an excuse, Mu-hee goes to see Ho-jin, though he immediately sees through her plan.

They go for a walk together, catching up in the small, careful way they’ve learned to communicate. Ho-jin mentions his brother’s upcoming wedding, while Mu-hee admits Do Ra-mi still appears to her, now hurling sharp insults and taunts. Ho-jin gently points out that those cruel words are really her own insecurities echoing back at her. Still, Mu-hee can’t bring herself to explain them, doing so would feel like handing someone her diary.

Mu-hee isn’t the only one haunted. Hiro wakes from a nightmare about Do Ra-mi as well. His assistant encourages him to prepare a surprise for his first proper meeting with Mu-hee. Hiro admits he’s not actually upset that Mu-hee didn’t recognize him; what bothers him is how her zombie image might damage his carefully crafted romantic persona.

Later, Mu-hee asks Ho-jin what Hiro really thinks of her. Ho-jin refuses to answer, insisting that his role as an interpreter is to translate words, not emotions. He urges her not to listen to Do Ra-mi, even when those thoughts feel uncomfortably true. He’s about to say more when Yong-u interrupts, forcing Mu-hee to leave.

The show’s first official meeting between the actors is set in a park. Mu-hee and Hiro are connected through earphones while Ho-jin interprets. Hiro releases balloons and asks Mu-hee to follow them, slowly exhausting her. Seeing her struggle, Ho-jin quietly helps her find Hiro more quickly. When Hiro subtly mocks her zombie film, Ho-jin filters his words. Mu-hee presents Hiro with a heart made of maple leaves, and he softly mutters, “This is the worst.” Only Ho-jin hears it.

Things derail when dust gets into Hiro’s eye, causing his contact lens to fall out. Claiming he can’t continue without a replacement, Hiro shuts down the shoot entirely. Ho-jin confronts Hiro’s manager, Nanami, insisting the issue needs to be resolved quickly and discreetly. She reveals something that could persuade Hiro to change his mind.

Ho-jin gathers all the Korean snacks Yong-u brought and says he’s heading downtown to meet a friend. Mu-hee, wanting to apologize to Hiro for the leaf heart incident, tags along. Ho-jin warns her not to meet Hiro without him. After parting ways, Ho-jin trades the bag of snacks for a thin envelope.

While waiting, Mu-hee spots Hiro on the street, seemingly fine and taking photos. Do Ra-mi appears again, urging Mu-hee to throw a rock at him. Mu-hee stops herself just in time. Hiro notices her and walks away. When Ho-jin arrives, he finally tells Mu-hee the truth, Hiro never wanted her cast in the first place.

Ho-jin then meets Hiro and hands over the envelope. Whatever’s inside works. Hiro agrees to resume filming. Ho-jin rushes to find Mu-hee, who has turned off her phone. On the drive back, he admits that he didn’t fully translate Hiro’s words earlier. He also promises that from now on, he’ll translate everything Mu-hee says, even the profanities, despite it breaking his personal rule.

Back on set, Mu-hee takes Ho-jin’s advice and refuses to be passive. She strides toward Hiro with her fist raised as if to punch him, then flips it into a heart at the last second. Unexpectedly, Hiro’s heart starts racing. The mystery of the envelope is revealed: it contains ice hockey tickets, something Hiro has long wanted.

A final flashback shows Hiro speaking with the show’s writer, producer, and Ho-jin. The writer tells him not to fake his feelings and to remain open to the possibility of liking Mu-hee. Hiro promises that if he does fall for her, he’ll confess honestly.

The episode ends on a sharp cliffhanger. Mu-hee runs toward Ho-jin, only to see him in conversation with Ji-seon.

DramaZen's Opinion

Watching Episodes 3 and 4 of Can This Love Be Translated? felt like the point where the story stopped hovering around “what if” and started pressing directly on emotional bruises. These episodes made me feel restless in the best way, like the characters were all one step away from saying the wrong thing or finally saying the truth, and somehow doing neither.

Episode 3, in particular, made my chest feel tight. Mu-hee’s anxiety is no longer something the drama treats gently in the background; it’s front and center, and watching her struggle with Do Ra-mi felt uncomfortably real. The way her past trauma is hinted at, not fully explained, not neatly resolved, made me feel protective of her rather than curious in a sensational way. That elevator scene genuinely unsettled me. When the doors opened and the crew saw her screaming, I felt that secondhand embarrassment mixed with fear that so many of us recognize when someone’s private panic becomes public.

What really stood out to me in Episode 3 was how Ho-jin and Mu-hee keep hurting each other without meaning to. Their argument about Ji-seon felt sharp and messy, like two people lashing out because they don’t know where they’re allowed to stand in each other’s lives. When Ho-jin decided to quit the show, I didn’t see it as dramatic, I saw it as avoidance. And when Mu-hee later asked him to come with her anyway, it felt like one of the bravest things she’s done so far. She wasn’t asking for romance; she was asking for safety.

Episode 4 shifted the tone again, and I found myself oddly tense even during the lighter moments. The Canada setting should have felt fresh and exciting, but everything underneath felt brittle. Watching Mu-hee realize that Hiro was the one who caught her on the red carpet made me wince, especially knowing how little emotional energy she has to spare right now. Hiro himself surprised me in this episode. At first, his frustration felt petty, but the more we learned, the clearer it became that he’s also trapped; by image, expectation, and the pressure to be someone he doesn’t fully want to be.

Ho-jin continues to be the most quietly complicated character for me. His insistence on “only translating words” feels less like professionalism and more like self-protection. Every time he filters something or refuses to answer Mu-hee honestly, I could feel how badly he wants to stay neutral and how impossible that’s becoming. His request to have Mu-hee called by her real name instead of Do Ra-mi hit me harder than I expected. It was such a small thing, but it felt like one of the purest acts of care in the entire episode.

The first official shoot between Mu-hee and Hiro was uncomfortable in a way that felt intentional. I could feel Mu-hee shrinking, second-guessing herself, and bracing for judgment. When Ho-jin admitted later that he hadn’t fully translated Hiro’s words, I wasn’t angry at him, I understood him. It felt like he was trying to protect her in the only way he knew how, even if it meant crossing his own boundaries.

And then there’s that moment when Mu-hee walks toward Hiro like she’s about to punch him, only to turn it into a heart. I laughed, but I also felt oddly proud of her. It was her choosing to take up space without apologizing for it. The reveal about the hockey tickets was unexpectedly tender and made me see Hiro in a softer light. For the first time, I believed he might genuinely open up.

The final scene of Episode 4 stopped me cold. Mu-hee running toward Ho-jin, only to see him talking to Ji-seon, felt like emotional whiplash. It perfectly captured the theme this drama keeps returning to, how timing can undo even the best intentions.

Overall, Episodes 3 and 4 made me feel emotionally invested in a way that’s quiet but persistent. This isn’t a drama that overwhelms you with romance or spectacle. It lets discomfort sit. It allows misunderstandings to breathe. And as a viewer, I felt trusted to read between the lines rather than be told what to feel.

At this point, I’m not rooting for a couple as much as I’m rooting for these characters to find steadiness, within themselves and with each other. And honestly, that makes the story feel far more real than I expected going in.