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Yesha can be anyone and everyone.
The winds of ill omen sweep through the Qi kingdom as hallowed statues weep blood tears. Within days, three of the realm's highest officials meet violent ends, all hinting at supernatural forces at play. A shadowy figure, Yesha or Night Fury, claims credit for the murders and threatens the empire itself. The No. 1 detective of Qi, Xiao Beiming, cockily assures the emperor that his Elite Constables will apprehend Yesha in three days. On his wedding day, Beiming sets a bold trap. But Yesha turns the tables on him with devastating consequences. Framed and injured, he disappears—estranged from his friends and his young bride.
Three years later, he returns to the capital, chasing signs that Yesha may have resurfaced. Older and wiser, he understands that to deal with this nemesis, he needs all the help he can get from friends, lovers, and competitors alike. He reunites with his childhood sweetheart, Xueman; humbled, contrite, and determined to clear his name. Beiming's new team—Xueman, coroner Feng Qingzhou, constable Tong Shuang, and disguise artist Hua Dairong—tackle seven eerie, linked cases, with the unwitting aid of the flamboyant No. 2 detective, Zhuge Kongyun. They quickly find all roads lead to a hidden seaside village, Haiya, and a terrifying secret that could rock the foundations of the empire.
Even though this is largely a plot-driven mystery, the characters are authentically written, and their development is fantastic. Reputations aside, there are no super-sleuths; Beiming and Kongyun are neck-and-neck the whole way. If anything, it is Yesha who stays a few steps ahead, only caught when they choose to be. This is a team effort where everyone contributes unique skills and insights. Each character has their own mini-arc that highlights what makes them tick—their strengths, flaws, past troubles, and personal struggles. They are bound by a shared sense of morality and justice born from their own trauma, loss, and grievances.
No one is perfect, and they all make mistakes, so don't be too quick to judge. Xueman loses her two life anchors on what should have been the happiest day of her life. She needs answers and closure but is left alone and in limbo for three long years. Of course she lashes out; what's important is that she ultimately chooses restraint. Tong Shuang also experiences loss and seeks justice, but when he acts out, he wins audience sympathy and understanding. Similarly, Beiming is rarely called out for his over-protective stifling of Xueman's desire to be part of the team or for his over-confidence and missteps at Fengbo Lake. This kind of persistent misogyny, where female characters are held to unfair and unrealistic standards of perfection, is deeply disappointing. Beyond the terrific banter and camaraderie, it is the team's imperfections and their good and less-good decisions that made me invested in their shared journey of self-discovery and growth.
The mild fantasy elements add an eerie thrill to the seven mysteries, which unfold in a case-within-a-case format that pieces together the main conspiracy. Each case brings a growing dread and a horrifying glimpse of the unspeakable event that happened in Haiya. I was hooked—what went down there? Who was Yesha, and what was their grand master plan? Although there is some deliberate misdirection, an attentive viewer has a fair chance of solving the case ahead of the reveal. All the clues are hidden in plain sight, down to several disparate and fleeting moments where the villain gives themselves away. At some point, everyone seems suspect, which is the point: Yesha can be anyone and everyone who is so tormented and radicalized by injustice that they go full scorched-earth. All characters are tested, and their moment of truth is whether they decide to give in to their worst instincts. It is Zhong Yunchi's last lesson to Beiming—that the greater good cannot be rationalized by a lesser injustice; that two wrongs don't make a right. While they share moments of perspective, Yesha is Beiming's antithesis, a person who chooses to fight darkness with darkness instead of light. They are a complex and almost tragic antagonist whose darkening is understandable but not inevitable.
This is an ensemble cast of promising young actors whose vibrant, cohesive energy conveys a shared purpose and infectious enthusiasm that smooths over some less-polished individual performances. Wang Xingyue's lines are fantastic, and he delivers a few fiery, moving speeches that gave me goosebumps. Deng Kai is another fabulous character actor who tries to steal his greatest rival's limelight with his bombastic braids, showy outfits, and side-splitting braggadocio. He Luoluo delivers a charismatic and empathetic portrayal of Tong Shuang's bromance with Beiming and his character's inner conflicts. While Xiang Hanzi's acting is still a work in progress, her "angry bird" Xueman is quite adorable, and she overall captures her character's anger, hurt, and confusion at Beiming's betrayal well. Unlike most actresses whose idea of fighting is posing and flailing at air, she moves with lethal speed and packs a powerful punch. I enjoy Zhang Nan's acting, but her character, Huo Dairong, didn't have room to shine. While Chen Youwei delivers a credible performance as Feng Qingzhuo, he didn't interpret his character in a particularly impactful way.
There is limited room for romance in a plot and character-heavy story like this, and arguably, too much would be a distraction. Beiming and Xueman's romance is established from the start, but it's clear neither was ready for marriage. I like how she grows up and he learns to make room for her to have the agency she always wanted. The second romance seemed to be there because why not? It isn't well-developed or grounded in substance, and I didn't sense genuine chemistry between either couple.
The narrative builds to a strong finish. The reveal makes sense, and everything more or less falls into place without a long-winded, boring walk-through. There are no unnecessary tropes; everything happens for a reason and comes full circle. The Haiya case raises profound questions—is national security and the greater good an end that justifies any means? Are there some acts so heinous that an eye for an eye is the only way to appease the victims? There are no easy answers; we can only hope we never have to make such choices.
The only thing I didn't like about the ending is Yesha's second identity. It creates unnecessary melodrama and makes their motive too personal when the final message should be on Haiya and "never again." That said, even though I would have preferred a slightly different ending, it is not a fatal flaw. This is still a suspenseful and riveting mystery from start to finish, and one I am pleased to highly recommend.
Final rating: 8.5/10.0
Major Ending Spoilers:
I don't think it was necessary for Yesha and Beikun to be the same person. It would have been more in-character for Zhong to have given his friend's child to the poison master, Bei Hai's sect brother, rather than to someone with no relationship to the child. I believe the writers originally intended for Beikun to be Feng Qingzhou, as Bei Hai's mutant pill is the 疾风丸 (Jífēng Wán) or Swift WIND Pill, while Coroner Feng's name, 风清浊 (Fēng Qīng Zhuó), can be translated as "WIND Purge" or "Cleansing WIND." I suspect they changed course and went with the actor who resembles Wang Xingyue enough to be his sibling. This choice dilutes Yesha's motive and makes it seem hypocritical, considering his father made the pill and urged the late emperor to use it. If Yesha were just an ordinary Haiya orphan, his hatred would have been more understandable. It's not a fatal flaw, but it makes Zhong's decision questionable and weakens the impact of Yesha's motive and message. It would also have been more satisfying to see Bei Hai's sons work together to atone for his mistakes.
X
Three years later, he returns to the capital, chasing signs that Yesha may have resurfaced. Older and wiser, he understands that to deal with this nemesis, he needs all the help he can get from friends, lovers, and competitors alike. He reunites with his childhood sweetheart, Xueman; humbled, contrite, and determined to clear his name. Beiming's new team—Xueman, coroner Feng Qingzhou, constable Tong Shuang, and disguise artist Hua Dairong—tackle seven eerie, linked cases, with the unwitting aid of the flamboyant No. 2 detective, Zhuge Kongyun. They quickly find all roads lead to a hidden seaside village, Haiya, and a terrifying secret that could rock the foundations of the empire.
Even though this is largely a plot-driven mystery, the characters are authentically written, and their development is fantastic. Reputations aside, there are no super-sleuths; Beiming and Kongyun are neck-and-neck the whole way. If anything, it is Yesha who stays a few steps ahead, only caught when they choose to be. This is a team effort where everyone contributes unique skills and insights. Each character has their own mini-arc that highlights what makes them tick—their strengths, flaws, past troubles, and personal struggles. They are bound by a shared sense of morality and justice born from their own trauma, loss, and grievances.
No one is perfect, and they all make mistakes, so don't be too quick to judge. Xueman loses her two life anchors on what should have been the happiest day of her life. She needs answers and closure but is left alone and in limbo for three long years. Of course she lashes out; what's important is that she ultimately chooses restraint. Tong Shuang also experiences loss and seeks justice, but when he acts out, he wins audience sympathy and understanding. Similarly, Beiming is rarely called out for his over-protective stifling of Xueman's desire to be part of the team or for his over-confidence and missteps at Fengbo Lake. This kind of persistent misogyny, where female characters are held to unfair and unrealistic standards of perfection, is deeply disappointing. Beyond the terrific banter and camaraderie, it is the team's imperfections and their good and less-good decisions that made me invested in their shared journey of self-discovery and growth.
The mild fantasy elements add an eerie thrill to the seven mysteries, which unfold in a case-within-a-case format that pieces together the main conspiracy. Each case brings a growing dread and a horrifying glimpse of the unspeakable event that happened in Haiya. I was hooked—what went down there? Who was Yesha, and what was their grand master plan? Although there is some deliberate misdirection, an attentive viewer has a fair chance of solving the case ahead of the reveal. All the clues are hidden in plain sight, down to several disparate and fleeting moments where the villain gives themselves away. At some point, everyone seems suspect, which is the point: Yesha can be anyone and everyone who is so tormented and radicalized by injustice that they go full scorched-earth. All characters are tested, and their moment of truth is whether they decide to give in to their worst instincts. It is Zhong Yunchi's last lesson to Beiming—that the greater good cannot be rationalized by a lesser injustice; that two wrongs don't make a right. While they share moments of perspective, Yesha is Beiming's antithesis, a person who chooses to fight darkness with darkness instead of light. They are a complex and almost tragic antagonist whose darkening is understandable but not inevitable.
This is an ensemble cast of promising young actors whose vibrant, cohesive energy conveys a shared purpose and infectious enthusiasm that smooths over some less-polished individual performances. Wang Xingyue's lines are fantastic, and he delivers a few fiery, moving speeches that gave me goosebumps. Deng Kai is another fabulous character actor who tries to steal his greatest rival's limelight with his bombastic braids, showy outfits, and side-splitting braggadocio. He Luoluo delivers a charismatic and empathetic portrayal of Tong Shuang's bromance with Beiming and his character's inner conflicts. While Xiang Hanzi's acting is still a work in progress, her "angry bird" Xueman is quite adorable, and she overall captures her character's anger, hurt, and confusion at Beiming's betrayal well. Unlike most actresses whose idea of fighting is posing and flailing at air, she moves with lethal speed and packs a powerful punch. I enjoy Zhang Nan's acting, but her character, Huo Dairong, didn't have room to shine. While Chen Youwei delivers a credible performance as Feng Qingzhuo, he didn't interpret his character in a particularly impactful way.
There is limited room for romance in a plot and character-heavy story like this, and arguably, too much would be a distraction. Beiming and Xueman's romance is established from the start, but it's clear neither was ready for marriage. I like how she grows up and he learns to make room for her to have the agency she always wanted. The second romance seemed to be there because why not? It isn't well-developed or grounded in substance, and I didn't sense genuine chemistry between either couple.
The narrative builds to a strong finish. The reveal makes sense, and everything more or less falls into place without a long-winded, boring walk-through. There are no unnecessary tropes; everything happens for a reason and comes full circle. The Haiya case raises profound questions—is national security and the greater good an end that justifies any means? Are there some acts so heinous that an eye for an eye is the only way to appease the victims? There are no easy answers; we can only hope we never have to make such choices.
The only thing I didn't like about the ending is Yesha's second identity. It creates unnecessary melodrama and makes their motive too personal when the final message should be on Haiya and "never again." That said, even though I would have preferred a slightly different ending, it is not a fatal flaw. This is still a suspenseful and riveting mystery from start to finish, and one I am pleased to highly recommend.
Final rating: 8.5/10.0
Major Ending Spoilers:
I don't think it was necessary for Yesha and Beikun to be the same person. It would have been more in-character for Zhong to have given his friend's child to the poison master, Bei Hai's sect brother, rather than to someone with no relationship to the child. I believe the writers originally intended for Beikun to be Feng Qingzhou, as Bei Hai's mutant pill is the 疾风丸 (Jífēng Wán) or Swift WIND Pill, while Coroner Feng's name, 风清浊 (Fēng Qīng Zhuó), can be translated as "WIND Purge" or "Cleansing WIND." I suspect they changed course and went with the actor who resembles Wang Xingyue enough to be his sibling. This choice dilutes Yesha's motive and makes it seem hypocritical, considering his father made the pill and urged the late emperor to use it. If Yesha were just an ordinary Haiya orphan, his hatred would have been more understandable. It's not a fatal flaw, but it makes Zhong's decision questionable and weakens the impact of Yesha's motive and message. It would also have been more satisfying to see Bei Hai's sons work together to atone for his mistakes.
X
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