Excellent Story and Acting, Lost to Fandom Nonsense
More and more, I’m beginning to think that C-Ent fandoms don’t really care about storylines, characters, or plots in a drama, as long as it always portrays their chosen actor in the most favourable light possible. Some irrational reactions to Episode 29 and Xiao Huaijin (whose actions were in-character, and absolutely correct) have cast a deep shadow on the series finale and the wonderful subversion of gender roles that, up until the wave of online hate, were what set this show apart.
Confused? Let me explain.
Unveil Jadewind is a story about a woman who spends her life in the pursuit of justice. She’s a highly intuitive and capable investigator and martial artist. She runs the Palace Investigation Bureau, is a favourite adopted child of the Emperor, and is loved by the people she works with. This is Li Peiyi, a judicial officer who bends the law in favour of justice, determinedly working for the marginalised and powerless, thereby dispensing actual justice rather than just following the rules.
She’s assisted by a genius historian who, unbeknown to her, is deeply intertwined with her tragic past. Xiao Huaijin is the opposite of Li Peiyi. Where she is brash, reckless, instinctive and in-the-moment, he is rational, calm, clinical, and able to see the wider picture. The couple are written as human, with flaws and weaknesses that manage to paint them as real. She’s an exceptional fighter and strategist, but often acts unilaterally and from the gut without considering the consequences (the fact that she has the Emperor’s favour contributes to her over-confidence). He’s a brilliant mind with a well of patience, wisdom, and knowledge, but he can’t stand the sight of blood and has no physical prowess. They complement each other perfectly and their individual character growth as a result of their interactions is visible and delightful.
The cases they investigate are complex and layered, moving from what on the surface seem to be straightforward, often to have deep and lasting effects on the world around them. The show spends, in my opinion, an inordinate amount of time on the stories behind the cases, explaining the murderers’ motivations and circumstances in great detail. But this is in service to the overall atmosphere of the show, which seems to be a powerful treatise on how following the law does not always equal justice. The cases aren’t connected to each other or to the overall arc of the story, but they all warrant an understanding of the human psyche and the social conditions prevalent during the Tang Dynasty.
Both characters and story are a recipe for success, and this should have been a much more popular show than the ratings suggest. The reason it’s not is that audiences are no longer looking for depth. They want instant gratification and don’t want to be asked to think about what each case in this wonderful story is teaching you about the world around you—because so little has changed in terms of discrimination and disparity today, setting aside technical and social evolution. This show tells you that in gentle ways at almost every turn.
Worse still, Chinese fandoms reacted in exactly the way that this drama is trying to subvert. At a certain point, Huaijin stops Peiyi from doing something that would ruin her life—a scenario in which the justice-loving Peiyi’s harrowing life story subsumes all rationality and common sense and gives way to base vengeance. This action garnered Huaijin—and the actor playing him—enormous amounts of vitriol online. Under different circumstances (different actors, perhaps?), the audience would have seen this for what it was—the rational character calming the intuitive one. But the fact that the male was the calm one and the female reacted from the gut seems to have ignited some vicious double standards.
The online reaction may also have to do with the misaligned popularity of the actors rather than the characters. The fact that Episode 29 laid bare Peiyi’s flaws wasn’t appreciated AT ALL and the growing popularity of the gentle male lead (Thai Orange Tea, anyone?) was roundly attacked. Bai Lu’s massive fanbase mobilised so effectively at any possible criticism of her character that Xiao Huaijin, who’d been consistently beating out conventional testerone-fuelled male characters in character indices, dropped from #3 to #9 in two days.
The reality is that the frail Xiao Huaijin and the overbearing Li Peiyi stand out from typical C-Ent heroes and yet they’re both great characters, acted out extremely well. Even the supporting cast, including the case-specific actors, do a good job, making the individual stories believable and effective. Add to that a high budget and some truly exquisite costumes and set design, this becomes an atmospheric, layered, and well-made show that is totally worth your time.
Confused? Let me explain.
Unveil Jadewind is a story about a woman who spends her life in the pursuit of justice. She’s a highly intuitive and capable investigator and martial artist. She runs the Palace Investigation Bureau, is a favourite adopted child of the Emperor, and is loved by the people she works with. This is Li Peiyi, a judicial officer who bends the law in favour of justice, determinedly working for the marginalised and powerless, thereby dispensing actual justice rather than just following the rules.
She’s assisted by a genius historian who, unbeknown to her, is deeply intertwined with her tragic past. Xiao Huaijin is the opposite of Li Peiyi. Where she is brash, reckless, instinctive and in-the-moment, he is rational, calm, clinical, and able to see the wider picture. The couple are written as human, with flaws and weaknesses that manage to paint them as real. She’s an exceptional fighter and strategist, but often acts unilaterally and from the gut without considering the consequences (the fact that she has the Emperor’s favour contributes to her over-confidence). He’s a brilliant mind with a well of patience, wisdom, and knowledge, but he can’t stand the sight of blood and has no physical prowess. They complement each other perfectly and their individual character growth as a result of their interactions is visible and delightful.
The cases they investigate are complex and layered, moving from what on the surface seem to be straightforward, often to have deep and lasting effects on the world around them. The show spends, in my opinion, an inordinate amount of time on the stories behind the cases, explaining the murderers’ motivations and circumstances in great detail. But this is in service to the overall atmosphere of the show, which seems to be a powerful treatise on how following the law does not always equal justice. The cases aren’t connected to each other or to the overall arc of the story, but they all warrant an understanding of the human psyche and the social conditions prevalent during the Tang Dynasty.
Both characters and story are a recipe for success, and this should have been a much more popular show than the ratings suggest. The reason it’s not is that audiences are no longer looking for depth. They want instant gratification and don’t want to be asked to think about what each case in this wonderful story is teaching you about the world around you—because so little has changed in terms of discrimination and disparity today, setting aside technical and social evolution. This show tells you that in gentle ways at almost every turn.
Worse still, Chinese fandoms reacted in exactly the way that this drama is trying to subvert. At a certain point, Huaijin stops Peiyi from doing something that would ruin her life—a scenario in which the justice-loving Peiyi’s harrowing life story subsumes all rationality and common sense and gives way to base vengeance. This action garnered Huaijin—and the actor playing him—enormous amounts of vitriol online. Under different circumstances (different actors, perhaps?), the audience would have seen this for what it was—the rational character calming the intuitive one. But the fact that the male was the calm one and the female reacted from the gut seems to have ignited some vicious double standards.
The online reaction may also have to do with the misaligned popularity of the actors rather than the characters. The fact that Episode 29 laid bare Peiyi’s flaws wasn’t appreciated AT ALL and the growing popularity of the gentle male lead (Thai Orange Tea, anyone?) was roundly attacked. Bai Lu’s massive fanbase mobilised so effectively at any possible criticism of her character that Xiao Huaijin, who’d been consistently beating out conventional testerone-fuelled male characters in character indices, dropped from #3 to #9 in two days.
The reality is that the frail Xiao Huaijin and the overbearing Li Peiyi stand out from typical C-Ent heroes and yet they’re both great characters, acted out extremely well. Even the supporting cast, including the case-specific actors, do a good job, making the individual stories believable and effective. Add to that a high budget and some truly exquisite costumes and set design, this becomes an atmospheric, layered, and well-made show that is totally worth your time.
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