
Our Unwritten Seoul- Episodes 7-8
Reveals, Resignations, and Real Talk
Episode 7 of Our Unwritten Seoul opens with a quick nostalgic nod to childhood dreams, but it doesn’t stay dreamy for long. We jump right back into the stormy night where Mi-rae and Se-jin are stuck together at the farm. Just as things get cozy, Mi-rae’s stomach growls, killing the mood and reminding everyone this is still real life.
While drying off, Mi-rae stumbles on something unexpected—proof that Se-jin is the Han Se-jin from Ihan Asset Management, a legend in the finance world. She fangirls hard, rattling off the glowing rumors about his work ethic and sudden disappearance from the industry. Se-jin promises to reveal the truth in time, but for now, he’s more focused on peeling back Mi-rae’s emotional armor—an uphill battle.
Elsewhere, Ho-su is in the thick of negotiations with Ro-sa and refuses to fold under Chung-gu’s pressure to sell the restaurant. Something deeper is going on, and Ho-su is determined to figure it out. Chung-gu, naturally, doesn’t take this well and starts digging. He uncovers a shadowy past involving Ro-sa’s time in an orphanage, a murdered husband, and a long-buried court case tied to domestic violence. Whatever Ro-sa’s hiding, it’s personal—and likely the real reason she won’t sell.
Back in the city, Mi-ji’s coffee meet-up with Ho-su gets derailed when Ji-yun drops in. But before that, Mi-ji’s ambushed by a furious woman who turns out to be the wife of Park Sang-yeong—the very same boss rumored to have been involved with Mi-rae. The woman accuses Mi-ji (who she believes is Mi-rae) of wrecking her marriage. A heated confrontation explodes in the company lobby, and Ji-yun steps in to shut it down... by outing the twin switch.
Turns out Ji-yun’s been playing detective. She figured out the truth thanks to a throwaway comment Mi-ji made in Ro-sa’s basement and had been testing her ever since. She doesn’t reveal whether Ho-su knows, but of course, he already does.
We also find out the scandal wasn't an affair—it was a sexual harassment case. Mi-rae filed a complaint against Sang-yeong but later withdrew it, fearing the backlash. Now, with her past closing in, Mi-rae can’t hide anymore. Ho-su comes to confront her (still believing she's Mi-ji), but their moment is interrupted when their mothers literally brawl on the stairs. It’s petty, it’s messy, and it lands them in the hospital.
Later, the twins awkwardly cross paths with Ho-su and Se-jin, who decide they should all get dinner. It's tense, full of near-reveals, and ends with Mi-rae blurting out the big one—Ho-su knows about the switch. That makes Mi-ji’s earlier coffee date with him, where she danced around her feelings, hilariously pointless.
Back at the farm, Mi-rae finally says a quiet goodbye to Se-jin. She opens up about juggling work and family, underestimating Se-jin’s own pain. He tells the heartbreaking story of how he lost his grandfather—ignoring his calls in favor of work, only to later find out the man had collapsed from heatstroke. It shattered him. He didn’t quit finance because of scandal—he quit because of guilt.
Meanwhile, Mi-rae clears the air with Ho-su, and Gyeong-gu bonds with Mi-ji over new ink, heartbreak, and how hard it is to speak the truth. He plays matchmaker, confronting Ho-su about his hesitation. Ho-su says he’s waiting for the right time. Gyeong-gu fires back: “There’s no such thing.” And he’s right.
Later, Mi-rae finally drafts her resignation letter. She opens up about her internal struggle with self-worth—imposter syndrome, burnout, and the fear she’ll never achieve something “great” again. It echoes how Mi-ji felt when her athletic dreams died. For both of them, this switch hasn’t just been about deception—it’s been survival.
And just before the credits roll, Ho-su takes Mi-ji outside and finally, finally says the words we’ve been waiting for:
He likes her.
Buried Truths, Emotional Breakdowns, and an Identity Crisis
Episode 8 of Our Unwritten Seoul dives deep into past pain, current chaos, and the mounting cost of keeping up appearances.
We open with a heavy look into Ho-su’s childhood. After losing his mother, he felt the family unit—the “three eyes,” as he calls them—had become something unbalanced. When Bun-hong entered the picture as his stepmother, he never fully accepted her. He wanted to go back to “two eyes.” Things got worse after the car accident that left Ho-su injured and took his father’s life. From then on, Ho-su wore the mask of a well-adjusted boy, trying not to be a burden.
In the present, Ho-su and Mi-ji are officially a couple… but it’s not exactly smooth sailing. Things are awkward. Mi-ji heads back to Seoul while Mi-rae wrestles with her own crossroads. Their mother’s sharp remark—“one unemployed daughter is enough”—doesn’t exactly make quitting her job easier.
At the strawberry farm, Se-jin and Mi-rae continue to grow closer. She comes up with a business plan, and he offers a stargazing trip as a reward. Their bond feels easy, real, and quietly significant.
Meanwhile, Ro-sa is discharged from the hospital but soon pressured by Chung-gu to sell her restaurant. He uses her past—specifically a violent case involving her late husband, Sang-wol—as leverage, casting doubt on her trust in Ho-su. She pulls away, wary of everyone.
While Bun-hong overcompensates with overbearing affection, flashbacks show just how complex her relationship with Ho-su has always been. He once accused her of being performative during ancestral rites. But when she disappeared one night—taking the wrong bus while dealing with her own family crisis—Ho-su realized just how alone he really was. For Bun-hong, it was a moment of painful truth: rejected by one family, struggling in another, never quite belonging.
It was also the first time Mi-ji saw Ho-su’s vulnerability.
Now, with their relationship awkwardly blooming, Mi-ji and Ho-su try for a normal day out. When they bump into Ho-su’s old colleagues, Mi-ji lies and pretends to be Mi-rae. Later, she admits she was embarrassed—worried she wasn’t good enough. It hits a nerve for Ho-su, who has always feared being a burden. The day ends early, leaving both feeling like they’ve fumbled something important.
Things spiral further when Mi-ji spots the newly-returned Park Sang-yeong and realizes he looks strikingly like their late father. Suddenly, Mi-rae’s vague, emotional comments about him make sense. Overwhelmed, Mi-ji pulls herself together and meets with Park, who says he wants to help her avoid workplace gossip. Mi-ji chooses to drop out of the HQ project on her own terms and asks not to be penalized. Park offers her a bookmark—and the bombshell that he, too, has a daughter named Mi-rae.
Later that night, senior management discusses Mi-ji behind her back. They suspect the twins have been switching and plan to test them soon. Park, despite his soft approach, is clearly playing both sides.
Mi-ji calls Mi-rae, demanding the truth about Park. Both sisters finally break down, admitting how much they’ve missed their father and how deeply that grief still shapes them. It’s the rawest moment they’ve shared all series—and a turning point in their understanding of each other.
At work, Tae-i is confused by Mi-ji’s sudden exit from the HQ project. With another switch looming, she tells him to be kind to Mi-rae going forward.
Meanwhile, Ok-hui shows up to help Bun-hong wash her hair, in what becomes a surprisingly tender scene. Bun-hong confesses that she’s tried too hard to be a mother to Ho-su and now realizes she might have pushed too much. Ok-hui assures her she’s done better than she thinks.
Later, Ho-su clears the air with Mi-ji about their awkward date. He just wanted normal. Instead, they got weird. He hands her a guidebook, and what should’ve been a handshake ends in a hug—progress, even if imperfect.
Mi-rae checks in on Se-jin, but they seem to be on different wavelengths. She hears secondhand that he might leave the farm and return to the States. Whether that’s true or not remains unclear.
Then comes a twist: Tae-i shows up at Mi-ji’s house and reveals he’s the brother of Kim Su-yeon—the Senior Specialist who mysteriously left the company. This likely ties into the deeper corruption at HQ.
And finally, just when you think Mi-ji might catch her breath, senior management corners her. They demand she prove her identity by scanning her fingerprint at the data center. The episode ends on a knife’s edge.
DramaZen's Opinion
These episodes had me in a chokehold.
Episode 7 hit hard with the emotional backstory on Ho-su and Bun-hong. The whole “three eyes becoming two” metaphor? Brutal. And the way this show keeps layering quiet grief into every relationship—chef’s kiss. Watching Mi-ji and Ho-su try to date like a normal couple but completely fumble it was hilarious and heartbreaking at the same time.
Then Episode 8 came in swinging with twist after twist. Park Sang-yeong possibly being the twins' dad? The HQ project conspiracy? The fingerprint cliffhanger?! And don’t get me started on the phone call where Mi-ji and Mi-rae finally cry it out about missing their father. That scene wrecked me.
Also, Tae-i pulling up like, “Hi, I’m the brother of the Senior Specialist you’ve been wondering about”? Absolutely wild. This drama is unpeeling its layers fast now, and every emotional hit feels earned. The twin switch is about to implode, and I cannot wait.