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This review may contain spoilers
When your husband’s flaunting his mistress, but you still need a divorce scroll.
I’m glad I gave this drama a second chance—because my first review? Completely useless. Turns out I was roasting an entirely different drama with the same title. Once I found the right one, it was like discovering the better twin hiding behind a bad first impression. And the real saving grace here is Liu Nian as Song Yao Zhi. She nails the balance of modern sass and period poise, delivering a heroine who makes you root for her even when the story drifts into morally gray waters.
Her chemistry with He Cong Rui is another highlight. Their pairing is adorable, light, and refreshingly natural, which is rare in a short-format drama where relationships usually feel rushed. Watching Yao Zhi scheme her way out of her marriage to Zi Qian had me chuckling—she handles feudal patriarchy like a woman drafting divorce papers with a side of snark.
But then comes the murkier part: Yao Zhi’s dalliance with Cen Zan while still technically married. Sure, Zi Qian was parading his mistress around like a shiny new medal, and concubines in that era were as common as rice, but it still felt unsettling. The drama wants you to root for Yao Zhi’s choices, and for the most part you do—but the moral arithmetic doesn’t always add up cleanly.
And then there’s Zi Qian’s whiplash-inducing transformation. One moment he’s the cold, detached husband, the next he’s rewriting his vows with all the sincerity of a reformed romantic. In such a short series, that kind of 180 feels more like a script shortcut than believable growth. Still, between Liu Nian’s strong performance and the breezy pacing, it ends up being a light, enjoyable watch—even if not all the moves on the board make sense.
Her chemistry with He Cong Rui is another highlight. Their pairing is adorable, light, and refreshingly natural, which is rare in a short-format drama where relationships usually feel rushed. Watching Yao Zhi scheme her way out of her marriage to Zi Qian had me chuckling—she handles feudal patriarchy like a woman drafting divorce papers with a side of snark.
But then comes the murkier part: Yao Zhi’s dalliance with Cen Zan while still technically married. Sure, Zi Qian was parading his mistress around like a shiny new medal, and concubines in that era were as common as rice, but it still felt unsettling. The drama wants you to root for Yao Zhi’s choices, and for the most part you do—but the moral arithmetic doesn’t always add up cleanly.
And then there’s Zi Qian’s whiplash-inducing transformation. One moment he’s the cold, detached husband, the next he’s rewriting his vows with all the sincerity of a reformed romantic. In such a short series, that kind of 180 feels more like a script shortcut than believable growth. Still, between Liu Nian’s strong performance and the breezy pacing, it ends up being a light, enjoyable watch—even if not all the moves on the board make sense.
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