Pursuit of Jade: Why I Hated It

Spoiler note: This review discusses the show’s relationships, supporting characters, and general story direction.

Watch on WeTV ↗ Watch the official trailer ↗

I watched Pursuit of Jade not long ago, and the first thing I thought was: what is up with the fru-fru girl?

Nope. Fan Changyu is anything but.

She is not a fainting flower. Not your basic D.I.D.—damsel in distress. Not someone whose entire personality is looking beautiful while men make decisions around her.

Fan Changyu is a butcher’s daughter: headstrong, practical, fierce, and fully capable of throwing hands when needed.

And before anyone points at the title, no, I did not hate the entire drama. I hated what parts of it did to my nervous system. There is a difference. I loved enough of it to watch all 40 episodes and yell at it out loud, which is honestly a very sincere form of engagement in this house.

The story follows Changyu, played by Tian Xiwei, and the mysterious Xie Zheng, played by Zhang Linghe. She is an orphan trying to protect her household and care for her younger sister. He is a fallen marquis hiding his identity while seeking justice for an old blood feud. Their lives collide during a snowstorm, and they enter a false marriage that eventually grows into something much deeper—with war, revenge, politics, and a lot of emotional damage naturally joining the party.

That is the plot in a nutshell. WeTV lists it as a 40-episode historical romance, following the butcher’s daughter and fallen noble from fake marriage into war, separation, and a shared fight for justice.

But plot alone is not why this drama worked for me.

1. Fan Changyu

Tian Xiwei as Fan Changyu is such a serious winner.

I loved that she was not written as “strong” in that fake way where the drama keeps telling us she is strong but then she still needs rescuing every 11 minutes. She is physically strong, emotionally stubborn, deeply loyal, and beautifully reliable. She is messy, loud, brave, practical, and tender without the show trying to make her smaller.

Also, I cannot move on from this: she carried Zhang Linghe on her back.

This is a man who stands around 6’3“, and Tian Xiwei is nowhere near his height. Philstar reported that she carried him for several steps and that Zhang Linghe said she was the first female co-star who had managed it.

I do not care how many takes, support tricks, camera angles, or pieces of drama magic were involved. My respect went up immediately.

Whoa. Tiny butcher queen energy.

2. The chemistry between everyone

The chemistry between Fan Changyu and Xie Zheng was obviously central, but what surprised me was how much chemistry Fan Changyu had with everyone.

Her sister. The neighbours. The goons. The Pig Squad. Even the bad guy. She had this way of pulling energy out of every scene. Some leads only work when they are with the romantic partner. Fan Changyu worked with the whole world around her.

That early town and neighbourhood arc was one of my favourite parts of the drama. It had warmth, absurdity, local chaos, and that specific feeling of people constantly getting into each other’s business while also somehow becoming family. The Pig Squad’s timing made so many scenes funnier than they had any right to be.

And Zhang Linghe was excellent here too. He looked lean, cool, controlled, and slightly allergic to normal domestic life, which was perfect. Xie Zheng has that mysterious-marquis energy, but the drama wisely lets him be awkward and funny too. His timing with Fan Changyu and the townspeople worked so well because he was not just standing there looking tall and tragic.

He was reacting. He was adjusting. He was suffering through butcher-house life with his dignity barely intact.

Why it was such an easy hit

I can see why Pursuit of Jade got so much attention. It was not just “pretty people in costume,” though yes, there was plenty of that and yes, I LOVE that.

It had a strong hook: fake marriage, hidden identity, revenge, class contrast, political danger, war, and a female lead who does not wait politely for the plot to happen to her.

It also found a huge audience. The Straits Times reported that the series reached a popularity index of 30,000 on Tencent Video and became the first Chinese title to reach number five on Netflix’s global weekly non-English Top 10, remaining there for four consecutive weeks.

And honestly, the popularity makes sense. The casting was strong. The pacing moved well from neighbourhood comedy into bigger war and political stakes. The visual world looked polished without feeling completely empty. The action had enough weight. The side characters had flavour. The show knew when to be funny and when to turn the knife.

Also, Fan Changyu becoming a warrior with her butcher’s knife? Yes. Obviously yes. Encore!

What did not work for me

Now, let me complain. The romantic uncertainty nearly took me out.

I know that for many viewers, the “will they or won’t they, are they together, are they separated, are they doomed, are they married but not emotionally married, are they emotionally married but politically doomed” thing is the whole attraction.

I get it. Slow burn is a legitimate art form.

But after a certain point, the uncertainty started giving me anxiety. Not cute anxiety. Not “oh, my heart” anxiety. More like: if these two do not get one peaceful conversation soon, I may personally enter the drama and file paperwork.

There is tension, and then there is making me feel like I need blood-pressure medication to continue watching.

And then there was the romance issue.

Listen. I know Chinese dramas have tighter censorship boundaries than Hollywood. I know we are not getting full HBO behaviour here. I am not asking for scandal.

But come on.

The main leads had so much chemistry, and the romantic payoff felt so restrained that at times I was like: can we at least get crumbs with butter?

The second lead couple sometimes had clearer, sexier romantic moments than the actual main couple. That felt unfair. I sat through war, politics, longing, fake marriage, emotional repression, and tall-man suffering.

I deserved a little more romance tax refund.

The other thing I did not love was the unnecessary hint that one of the Pig Squad had feelings for her. I did not need that. Their group dynamic was already good: loyal, chaotic, funny, protective, warm. Adding one-sided romantic feelings felt like extra seasoning on a dish that was already working.

Not everything needs a love angle. Sometimes friendship can just be friendship. Let the Pig Squad be emotionally useful without romantic complications, please and thank you.

The ex-fiancé, though? Deliciously hateable

What I did love was watching her ex-fiancé get humbled at every turn.

That man was so resentful and petty that every scene with him made me want to hiss like a kettle. The actor did such a good job making him feel bitter, entitled, and almost Joffrey Baratheon-adjacent in spirit. Not the same character, obviously, but that same “ugh, please let karma arrive with a chair” energy.

And the drama kept giving him lessons. Wonderful. Therapeutic. Five stars for every humiliation.

Final thoughts

For me, Pursuit of Jade worked because it had a female lead I could actually root for, a male lead who balanced coolness with awkward timing, a strong supporting cast, and a story that knew how to mix street-level chaos with bigger political stakes.

Was it perfect? No. The main romance could have given more. The uncertainty dragged too long for my nervous system. Some side romantic tension was unnecessary.

But the drama had enough charm, chemistry, humour, action, and emotional pull that I kept watching.

Mostly, I stayed for Fan Changyu.

Badass butcher’s daughter. Sister protector. Accidental chaos magnet. Tiny woman carrying a giant man. A female lead who did not need to be softened into usefulness.

So yes, I enjoyed Pursuit of Jade. I also hated it a little. I hated the uncertainty, the withholding, and how often it made me shout at the screen. But I shouted because I cared what happened next.

That is the kind of heroine I want more of.