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This review may contain spoilers
Cozy, charming… and a little too busy for its own romance
I’m late to the party — but I finally got around to watching New Life Begins, a drama that had been sitting patiently on my “plan to watch” list since 2022. And you know what? I’m glad I did. If you’re craving a historical drama that lifts your spirits instead of dragging you through the mud, New Life Begins seems at first like a perfect fit — charming, lighthearted, and warm in all the right places. And to be fair, it does deliver plenty of those cozy, positive vibes. But it also stumbles in ways that keep it from being as satisfying as it could have been, especially if you’re here for romance first.
The opening stretch is delightful. There’s a simplicity and slice-of-life rhythm to the drama that makes it comforting — shared meals, seasonal shifts, moments of humor and everyday living. Add to that a refreshing emphasis on female solidarity: women supporting each other instead of tearing each other down for male attention. That aspect felt fresh, hopeful, and genuinely uplifting. Watching friendships blossom and sisterhood take center stage was one of the drama’s brightest strengths.
But here’s the catch: the central romance — supposedly the beating heart of the story — slowly gets pushed aside. What begins as a sweet, steady, and authentic relationship between Li Wei and Yin Zheng ends up feeling almost accessory, drowned out by side plots and the “girls power” agenda. At times, it felt less like a rom-com and more like a thematically scripted statement piece, where the love story was politely told to wait in the corner. For a drama billed as romance, that sidelining left me disappointed.
The lack of nuance in most of the male characters makes this imbalance even more obvious. Outside of Yin Zheng, who is empathetic, emotionnally intelligent, and beautifully played by Bai Jingting, the male cast is painted with embarrassingly broad strokes — hapless, useless, comical, or simply obstacles. On paper, this was probably meant to heighten the women’s empowerment, but in practice it undercut the message. True empowerment shines more when it coexists with nuance and balance, not when the “other side” is reduced to caricature. Instead of elevating the story, the flat portrayals of men cheapened it, making the intended message feel thinner and less impactful.
That imbalance trickled into the romantic subplots too. While Li Wei and Yin Zheng’s relationship initially felt grounded and believable, several other pairings lacked credibility or emotional weight — leaning on clichés more than real character development. Some of them left me scratching my head, wondering how these people were supposed to make sense together.
And then there’s the pacing. With forty episodes, the drama inevitably bloats. Secondary arcs stretch far too long, court politics and sibling quarrels repeat themselves, and attention drifts. Combine that with the sidelined main romance, and you’re left with a drama that sometimes forgets its own strengths.
That said, I don’t want to undersell what New Life Begins does well. When it leans into warmth, everyday joys, and small but meaningful growth, it shines. Li Wei’s journey is relatable — spirited, flawed, and human — and her bond with Yin Zheng, when the drama remembers to show it, is genuinely sweet and steady. There’s a lot to love if you’re patient, and if you appreciate female friendships as much as romantic ones.
For me, this lands somewhere between 7.5 and 8.5 out of 10, depending on how much tolerance you have for caricatured male roles or the slower pacing. Personally, I lean toward the higher end, because the warmth and positivity stayed with me long after the credits rolled. The charm, the sisterhood, and the cozy atmosphere are real strengths, but the sidelined romance and lack of male character nuance weigh it down more than they should. Would I recommend it? Yes — but with caveats. If you’re looking for a feel-good ancient slice-of-life with a strong dose of female solidarity, you’ll probably enjoy it. If you’re in it primarily for romance, be prepared: the heart you came for might feel like it’s beating quietly in the background while the drama pushes a louder agenda to the front.
The opening stretch is delightful. There’s a simplicity and slice-of-life rhythm to the drama that makes it comforting — shared meals, seasonal shifts, moments of humor and everyday living. Add to that a refreshing emphasis on female solidarity: women supporting each other instead of tearing each other down for male attention. That aspect felt fresh, hopeful, and genuinely uplifting. Watching friendships blossom and sisterhood take center stage was one of the drama’s brightest strengths.
But here’s the catch: the central romance — supposedly the beating heart of the story — slowly gets pushed aside. What begins as a sweet, steady, and authentic relationship between Li Wei and Yin Zheng ends up feeling almost accessory, drowned out by side plots and the “girls power” agenda. At times, it felt less like a rom-com and more like a thematically scripted statement piece, where the love story was politely told to wait in the corner. For a drama billed as romance, that sidelining left me disappointed.
The lack of nuance in most of the male characters makes this imbalance even more obvious. Outside of Yin Zheng, who is empathetic, emotionnally intelligent, and beautifully played by Bai Jingting, the male cast is painted with embarrassingly broad strokes — hapless, useless, comical, or simply obstacles. On paper, this was probably meant to heighten the women’s empowerment, but in practice it undercut the message. True empowerment shines more when it coexists with nuance and balance, not when the “other side” is reduced to caricature. Instead of elevating the story, the flat portrayals of men cheapened it, making the intended message feel thinner and less impactful.
That imbalance trickled into the romantic subplots too. While Li Wei and Yin Zheng’s relationship initially felt grounded and believable, several other pairings lacked credibility or emotional weight — leaning on clichés more than real character development. Some of them left me scratching my head, wondering how these people were supposed to make sense together.
And then there’s the pacing. With forty episodes, the drama inevitably bloats. Secondary arcs stretch far too long, court politics and sibling quarrels repeat themselves, and attention drifts. Combine that with the sidelined main romance, and you’re left with a drama that sometimes forgets its own strengths.
That said, I don’t want to undersell what New Life Begins does well. When it leans into warmth, everyday joys, and small but meaningful growth, it shines. Li Wei’s journey is relatable — spirited, flawed, and human — and her bond with Yin Zheng, when the drama remembers to show it, is genuinely sweet and steady. There’s a lot to love if you’re patient, and if you appreciate female friendships as much as romantic ones.
For me, this lands somewhere between 7.5 and 8.5 out of 10, depending on how much tolerance you have for caricatured male roles or the slower pacing. Personally, I lean toward the higher end, because the warmth and positivity stayed with me long after the credits rolled. The charm, the sisterhood, and the cozy atmosphere are real strengths, but the sidelined romance and lack of male character nuance weigh it down more than they should. Would I recommend it? Yes — but with caveats. If you’re looking for a feel-good ancient slice-of-life with a strong dose of female solidarity, you’ll probably enjoy it. If you’re in it primarily for romance, be prepared: the heart you came for might feel like it’s beating quietly in the background while the drama pushes a louder agenda to the front.
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