ysadulset

I went into "How Dare You?!" almost blind. I had not read the original novel, watched the donghua, nor seen the vertical drama. I only knew a few trigger warnings and the general direction of the ending. However, as someone who reads a lot of isekai manhwas and manhuas, I expected something trope heavy and predictable.

In some ways, it is exactly that. Modern people transmigrate into villain roles, navigate palace politics, and try to escape a written fate. But the execution surprised me. It is more emotionally aware and character driven than I anticipated.

The tone balances romance, humor, politics, and angst well. The comedy never undercuts the tension, and when it turns dark, it commits. The shifts never felt jarring to me.

Cheng Lei and Wang Churan were perfectly cast. Their chemistry and skills carry the emotional core of the story. Many scenes rely almost entirely on their expressions rather than dialogue, and they deliver. Wanyin’s wardrobe is also consistently breathtaking and deserves special praise. Dan’s long hair and styling suit him so well that it enhances his lonely presence and as emperor.



⁂ Wang Cuihua becoming Yu Wanyin

The setup is simple and effective. No dramatic accident, no truck-kun, no tragic prelude. Just two ordinary modern people suddenly thrown into a poorly written palace novel as villains meant to die. Wang Cuihua becomes Yu Wanyin, a doomed concubine of the emperor. Zhang San becomes Xiahou Dan, the tyrant puppet emperor.

What I liked immediately is that there was no long drag of them hiding from each other's identities. Immediately, we sense relief from Wanyin. But for Zhang San as Dan, it is far more overwhelming. And his reaction hints that his loneliness might have ran much deeper than hers.

As Wanyin, Cuihua is not overly dramatic about her situation. She approaches it with practicality, sometimes cynical. She does not have encyclopedic knowledge of the novel, so she cannot outmaneuver the plot with foresight alone. Instead of trying to steal the original heroine’s route, she aligns with another villain with the same tragic written fate.

Between her and Dan, she is the one constantly forming plans. Part of that comes from her having the main gist of the story. But more than knowledge, it is motivation. Where Dan feels worn down by years of surviving, Wanyin feels activated. She has urgency, and most importantly, she still has hope. She has something to fight against because she has not yet spent a decade being defeated by the system of that world.

Another key difference is that Wanyin builds alliances. She believes certain people can be convinced. Dan, having grown up in betrayal and manipulation, had long defaulted to isolation and control. Wanyin still operates with the assumption that trust, while risky, is possible.



⁂ Zhang San’s life, diary, and his life after meeting Cuihua

The biggest emotional punch for me was slowly realizing that Dan had been in that world since he was a teenager. He was not freshly transmigrated like Wanyin. He had grown up there. He has lived longer as Xiahou Dan than he ever did as Zhang San.

That reframes his cruelty. All along, the tyranny was not an act. He grew up under manipulation, poison, and constant danger. He learned to be cruel because the world around him was cruel first. In a palace where kindness is punished, he adapted. He learned to distrust and strike first. He learned that survival requires hostility and distance. Dan is not just lonely. He is resigned.

The diary entries deepen that impact. They begin almost humorous, then turn devastating. We see a lonely teenager trying to test fate and slowly realizing the world will not bend for him. The helplessness in those entries hurt when connected to Dan's current actions and attitude towards Wanyin.

When Cuihua arrives as Wanyin, the tone in his life shifts. For the first time, he has proof that his original life as Zhang San was real. That he was once loved and valued somewhere else. You can see how much that grounds him, because he can be Zhang San again. Before her, his alliances were transactional. After her, they become collaborative. He relearns trust. He allows trusted people closer. His softer expressions, smiles, and decisions not driven purely by calculation show Zhang San resurfacing within Xiahou Dan. Through their partnership and relationship, he slowly allows himself to hope again.


⁂ The villains

The drama presents two central antagonists. One who has been always the villain, the Empress Dowager, and another who became a villain, Duan. I would argue that he was made a villain because of his past, because his stubbornness and insecurity led him to refuse reality.

The Empress Dowager initially comes across as almost theatrically frustrating, even pathetic. But as we watch more of her, she is actually really despicable. Her obsession with power was not shallow ambition. Her connection to Qiang adds dimension and maybe a bit more context to her actions, but it does not redeem her. If anything, it explains why she consistently prioritizes control. She did not care about the empire and its people at all. The cruelty she inflicted, especially on Dan, reframed so much of his behavior. Growing up under someone like her would twist anyone.

Duan, on the other hand, is more complicated.

As the original protagonist of the novel, he was meant to be the righteous hero of the story. He is intelligent, observant, and politically capable. But, as trashy the novel was, he is also written to be deeply insecure and rigid in his worldview.

His mother’s suffering apparently defines him. Even knowing the Empress Dowager is truly responsible for that, he redirects his anger toward Dan. Part of it is cowardice masked under practicality. The Empress Dowager is too powerful to confront directly. Dan, as her puppet, becomes the more accessible target.

But it is also psychological. He needs Dan to embody cruelty so that his resentment feels justified. If Dan is not monstrous, then Duan’s hatred loses its moral clarity. When Dan begins acting more righteously, Duan cannot process it and interprets it as manipulation. If someone else occupies that moral ground, especially someone he has defined as the villain, it destabilizes his entire identity. And instead of reassessing his assumptions, he doubles down. His refusal to accept reality slowly pushes him into antagonism.



⁂ The allies

This drama is ruthless with allies.

Xu Yao’s early death immediately unsettled me. It came so soon after he aligned himself with the leads. And my guts were right on the impending deaths. The allies were on a countdown spree. Every time a new ally joined, I got anxious for them. The scholars, Yonger, Mr. Bei, even the late introduced ally. The drama kinda conditioned me to expect loss early on.

Yonger’s arc is one I have mixed feelings about. At first, she felt shallow and mildly irritating. But after she learned the truth and chose to align with the leads, she softened. She began to feel like a younger sister to Wanyin. That is why her death should have devastated me completely. It did hurt. But when I think about how she died, the impact becomes emotionally underwhelming. Instead of some last heroic move, she was killed suddenly, stabbed mid conversation by one of Duan’s cronies. Realistic, perhaps, but I wanted more weight given to her end.

Mr. Bei’s death, on the other hand, shattered me. He brought so much warmth into an increasingly heavy narrative. So, when the reveal surrounding his death came, I was sad. I had suspicions before the reveal of his death, but I still was not prepared. In a narrative point of view, it made sense that his abilities would circle back in a tragic way. But predictability did not make it hurt less.

The repeated loss of allies made the victories feel heavier, and that is why I understand Wanyin’s guilt so well. Many of her plans succeeded strategically, but they left a sad and bitter taste behind.



⁂ The ending

The final stretch felt dense and slightly exhausting, in a way that makes sense for a story that has been stacking consequences for so long. A lot is still happening, and they need resolution. Between Dan waking from his coma, Duan’s downfall, and the political aftermath that follows, the narrative is clearly closing in on its conclusion. Yet emotionally, it does not feel entirely settled. All of it was compressed into a short span of 2 episodes. Some questions were resolved emotionally, while others were left hanging.

Dan’s poisoning is one of the concerns that still linger for me. We know most of the poison was expelled and that he wakes up, but we never receive full reassurance that it is completely cleared. After investing so much in his survival, I wanted stronger confirmation.

Tiancai's situation also left an ache. He never learns the truth about Yonger. He just learns she went home. I understand Wanyin’s choice not to tell him, but it denied him closure. He cannot properly grieve because he still believes she is alive somewhere.

On the positive side, Dan proposing as Zhang San to Wanyin as Wang Cuihua meant a lot. He did not need to propose anymore. Wanyin was already empress and the harem was dismantled. But this was not about Dan and Wanyin anymore. It was Zhang San and Wang Cuihua. It acknowledged both identities and promised that they would choose each other beyond the novel world.

The return to the real world and the brief reunion on the train left me conflicted. It wasn't clear if they lived the rest of their lives in the novel after the proposal, before they returned. I also usually dislike short reunions that is alike quick epilogue or a fan service. Here, however, it worked just enough because their happy ending had already happened in the novel world and they have promised to choose each other in the real world. Still, I cannot deny that it felt slightly incomplete because of some details that are left unanswered, probably because of censorship.