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A Gripping Family Drama
I initially watched this drama for Zhou Yiran after seeing him in Twelve Letters, but was disappointed that, despite being billed as the male lead, his role felt more like a supporting character. The story centers on the female lead, Qiao Qingyu (played by Zhang Jing Yi), and tackles dark themes such as bullying, suicide, depression, abandonment, abuse, misogyny, family pressure, conformity, trauma, and grief. This is more of a family and coming-of-age drama than a romance or youth series with characters that you either love or hate. The plot follows Qingyu as her family uproots to escape rumors about her older sister Qiao Baiyu’s mysterious death, and she becomes determined to uncover the truth behind it.
The first half is engaging as Qingyu investigates her sister's past which reveals her family dynamics. However, the second half drags, especially with the brief arc about Mumu's family issues, which felt unnecessary. The drama’s characters are polarizing; for instance, I found Qingyu’s portrayal frustrating and unrelatable. At times, her younger brother seemed more mature than she was. She’s often standoffish, withdrawn, and acts on her own misunderstandings, especially toward Ming Sheng (Zhou Yiran) and her parents. She doesn’t show much appreciation towards people who support her like Ming Sheng, Mumu, or even the male teacher who offered to help her. Although complex and flawed, her character didn’t resonate with me due to a rather flat performance by Zhang Jing Yi. Throughout many scenes with Ming Sheng coming to her aid, she often looks at him with a blank, emotionless expression. After admitting that he's always there for her whenever she needs help, Ming Sheng asks "Are you touched by this?", she responds with icy detachment, "I don't want to be indebted to you. It’s not until episode 21 that viewers finally see her genuinely smile, laugh, and express real emotion while spending a full day with Ming Sheng. However, the moment is short-lived as the focus shifts to her vacant expression after he leaves. While some actors can convey deep emotion with just their eyes, Zhang Jing Yi unfortunately falls short in this regard. The storyline where Qingyu learns to dance in a short time and is able to perform on stage, despite having much less experience than her older sister, felt unrealistic.
I felt more empathy for the older sister, Qiao Baiyu, who endured bullying, abandonment issues and trauma but ultimately realized her parents’ quiet love for her. Her tragic ending highlights how suicide transfers pain to loved ones. However, the mother, Li Fanghao (Liu Dan), stands out as the most compelling character—a strict, tormented woman shaped by guilt, grief and patriarchal family pressures. Despite her harshness, she loves her children deeply and tries to protect Qingyu from repeating past mistakes, making her both tragic and relatable.
Ming Sheng’s resentment toward his father seemed unclear, as both parents share responsibility in a divorce and his mother was the one who left him to pursue her career ambitions. Although Ming Sheng harbors resentment toward his father, the two share striking similarities—they are both reserved, dependable, and prefer to demonstrate their feelings through actions rather than words. Ming Sheng’s personal growth is rooted in coming to terms with his father, all while he steadfastly supports Qingyu in the background. While his role is less prominent than the female lead’s, Zhou Yiran manages to convey impressive emotional depth, especially in the poignant scene at the Qiao family’s noodle restaurant where he breaks down in tears.
Overall, the drama is a decent watch with strong ensemble acting, effectively portraying themes of overcoming struggles, healing from loss, and resilience.
The first half is engaging as Qingyu investigates her sister's past which reveals her family dynamics. However, the second half drags, especially with the brief arc about Mumu's family issues, which felt unnecessary. The drama’s characters are polarizing; for instance, I found Qingyu’s portrayal frustrating and unrelatable. At times, her younger brother seemed more mature than she was. She’s often standoffish, withdrawn, and acts on her own misunderstandings, especially toward Ming Sheng (Zhou Yiran) and her parents. She doesn’t show much appreciation towards people who support her like Ming Sheng, Mumu, or even the male teacher who offered to help her. Although complex and flawed, her character didn’t resonate with me due to a rather flat performance by Zhang Jing Yi. Throughout many scenes with Ming Sheng coming to her aid, she often looks at him with a blank, emotionless expression. After admitting that he's always there for her whenever she needs help, Ming Sheng asks "Are you touched by this?", she responds with icy detachment, "I don't want to be indebted to you. It’s not until episode 21 that viewers finally see her genuinely smile, laugh, and express real emotion while spending a full day with Ming Sheng. However, the moment is short-lived as the focus shifts to her vacant expression after he leaves. While some actors can convey deep emotion with just their eyes, Zhang Jing Yi unfortunately falls short in this regard. The storyline where Qingyu learns to dance in a short time and is able to perform on stage, despite having much less experience than her older sister, felt unrealistic.
I felt more empathy for the older sister, Qiao Baiyu, who endured bullying, abandonment issues and trauma but ultimately realized her parents’ quiet love for her. Her tragic ending highlights how suicide transfers pain to loved ones. However, the mother, Li Fanghao (Liu Dan), stands out as the most compelling character—a strict, tormented woman shaped by guilt, grief and patriarchal family pressures. Despite her harshness, she loves her children deeply and tries to protect Qingyu from repeating past mistakes, making her both tragic and relatable.
Ming Sheng’s resentment toward his father seemed unclear, as both parents share responsibility in a divorce and his mother was the one who left him to pursue her career ambitions. Although Ming Sheng harbors resentment toward his father, the two share striking similarities—they are both reserved, dependable, and prefer to demonstrate their feelings through actions rather than words. Ming Sheng’s personal growth is rooted in coming to terms with his father, all while he steadfastly supports Qingyu in the background. While his role is less prominent than the female lead’s, Zhou Yiran manages to convey impressive emotional depth, especially in the poignant scene at the Qiao family’s noodle restaurant where he breaks down in tears.
Overall, the drama is a decent watch with strong ensemble acting, effectively portraying themes of overcoming struggles, healing from loss, and resilience.
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