If you had fallen deep into the rabbit hole, you’d have been wonderstruck by the fight choreography and costumes—including fascinators—of Chinese drama. Likewise, the set designs at Hengdian World Studios in Zhejiang Province would have astounded you. (Google says the studio has real-sized replicas of the Qin Imperial Palace, Imperial Palace building, and Old Summer Palace.) Then you’d have noticed that the women characters are always condescending princesses and scheming consorts, and that the men have a balanced representation, running the gamut of vacuous/shrewd emperors, virtuous/pedantic scholars, and intrepid warriors.
Legend of the Female General official poster
But Chinese drama writers have of late veered off the usual narrative path. Context: The last drama with a strong female character on Netflix was Who Rules the World (2020), starring Zhao Lusi as Bai Fengxi and Yang Yang as Hei Fengxi. Equally matched in martial arts and intellect, Bai Fengxi had no qualms about going head-to-head with Hei Fengxi.
There have been strong women characters—Hua Zhi in Blossoms in Adversity (2024), Xue Fang Fei in The Double (2024), Dou Zhao in Blossom (2024), Yang Cai Wei in In Blossom (2024), and Xiao Qiao in The Prisoner of Beauty (2025)—but Ming Yi, He Yan and Li Peiyi were an empowered trio who faced adversaries without flinching or using emotional chicanery. They manifested fortitude, independence, and intellect—traits that society avoids attributing to women. Linked together by traumatic childhood experiences, they endured injustice and suffering while gaining the strength that hardship can forge.
Unveil: Jadewind official poster
Their respective journeys to positive womanhood were depicted in their varying circumstances. Ming Yi and He Yan literally wore masks that hid their real identities, while Peiyi masked her intentions in finding who had killed her family. Comparatively, He Yan was in a slightly better situation, knowing her enemy from the beginning, unlike Peiyi and Ming Yi, who found their own much later, exacerbating their anguish.
Ming Yi, played by Lu Yuxiao, was a female deity with strong spiritual veins and extraordinary martial arts skills in the 36-episode Love in the Clouds. From the start, she was a victim of the ways of patriarchy: A daughter could never be emperor, and the woman who bore a female child was expendable. She was prone to engaging in risky behavior and developed trust issues because of the abuse she suffered, which caused her nightmares. (In a flashback scene, Ming Yi’s punishment was being tied up like a trussed chicken and left in isolation.)
But her adoptive mother, the emperor’s consort, magically transformed her into Crown Prince Ming Xian of Yaoguang Mountain. Ming Xian was the consort’s weapon—the heir to the throne —against the emperor in securing her position as Empress. Ming Xian was the celebrated undefeated champion of the gladiator-type tournament Qingyun Conference, until she lost because of poisoning.
In the 36-episode Legend of the Female General, He Yan, portrayed by Zhou Ye, was coerced to stand in for her sickly stepbrother, He Rufei, to protect the family’s noble title. He Yan wore a mask to masquerade as her stepbrother. After attending the Xianchang Academy and to escape her family situation, she took to the battlefield and gained fame as the heroic Feihong.
In ‘Legend of the Female General,’ He Yan, portrayed by Zhou Ye, was coerced to stand in for her sickly stepbrother; she took to the battlefield and gained fame as the heroic Feihong
Misogyny reared its head when the real Rufei returned and, with condescending entitlement, took back the position of heir, He Yan’s military title, and battlefield accomplishments. He took it further by arranging her complete effacement from history. She survived an assassination attempt and—her resolve for revenge galvanized—enlisted in the Yezhou garrison using her real name, but as a “son” of a city gate official.
Bai Lu played Peiyi, the orphaned princess of Fuchang County whose family was massacred in the 34-episode Unveil: Jadewind. Comparatively, she had more leeway in making decisions and taking actions than Ming Yi and He Yan because, one, she was favored by the emperor; two, she was appointed by the emperor as lead investigator to solve the deaths in the palace, and had authority to go anywhere, question anyone, etc.; three, she was vocal and took risks (i.e., she often used herself as bait for sting operations or test subject for poisons needing identification).
The enemies-to-lovers dynamic drove the series, delineating the women’s unshakeable personalities while debunking the conventional binary opposition of logical men vis-à-vis irrational women. Tellingly, the writers made falling in love a worthwhile experience, especially when it’s not oppressive. The romances did not oblige the characters to revert to the repressive traditional roles of men and women. Relationships thrived because the lovers’ quarrels and misunderstandings were resolved logically and quickly. No gender was derogated or forced to give up something because the relationships were based on genuine love, respect, and willingness to sacrifice.
Ming Yi and Ji Bo Zai (Hou Ming Hao), her suspected poisoner, had a complicated relationship. He was just learning to trust people, but Ming Yi deceived him into doing the heart-link formation, which would allow her to steal the antidote from him. Eventually, they found their way back to each other, with her dropping her pretenses and him forgiving her betrayal. They became a formidable duo—Ji Bo Zai acknowledged that she was the consummate fighter—in preventing the nefarious council of elderly monks from controlling the six realms.
He Yan locked horns with Gen. Fengyun (Cheng Lei), who suspected her of being an enemy spy right from the start. Fengyun was hard on all the new recruits, more so on He Yan, but she didn’t break and even persuaded him to train her. Steadily, she recovered from the poisoning (it rendered her temporarily blind), stabbing, and being pushed off a cliff. When she regained her strength and fighting form, she bested all the soldiers in the camp, much to the satisfaction of Fengyun, who, ascertaining her true identity, didn’t disparage her.
Peiyi partnered with Xiao Huaijin (Wang Xingyue), imperial astronomer and palace-appointed investigator, in solving the murders. Huaijin is confrontationally challenged, but wasn’t bothered with Peiyi rescuing him. What he lacked in physicality, he made up with his astuteness and meticulousness. They complemented each other—Peiyi’s temperamental nature pushed Hauijin to take action, while his phlegmatic character stayed her predisposition for risky actions.
The women moved past being victims of patriarchy toward positive womanhood without the emotional baggage of resenting men or foregoing marriage altogether. They didn’t let anyone dictate what they should do or feel, including choosing their husbands.
They didn’t let anyone dictate what they should do or feel, including choosing their husbands
Ming Yi’s journey to finding the antidote was mired in obstacles, yet she emerged victorious. She didn’t scruple to side with justice and have those at fault answer. She remained levelheaded even when her romance with Jo Bo Zai was tottering, and she put everyone’s welfare above hers.
He Yan was steadfast in giving her stepbrother his comeuppance. She didn’t let the hardships she endured cloud her judgement. She kept her wits about her when the emperor canceled her engagement to Fengyun and ordered her to marry Chu Zhao, who had caused the dissolution of her engagement due to his obsession with her. She defied the imperial edict, leaving Zhao dejected.
Peiyi had the sisterhood rallying behind her. Unveil: Jadewind was the most female-centric of the three series. The murderers and victims were women. The lead investigator was a woman assisted by women (i.e., technician of medicine Zhao Yudi and her adjutant Wu Ren). They pushed against society that treated women as disposable collectibles and that put up boundaries restricting their movements and expressions. She didn’t wallow in bitterness and allowed herself to enjoy a new life with Huaijin.
Many dramas continue to present women as maintaining the culture of misogyny. Ming Yi et al. are fictional, yet they give form to the positive aspects of womanhood, particularly their capability of deciding for themselves. The trio’s choices—to fight for peace and to live on their own terms—are what women and men should emulate and live by. #
