A Journey to Love (2023) Final Thoughts

*Spoilers Alert — Major reveals ahead*

It’s done. I braced myself for the impact of the last 7 episodes with some vague sense that tragedy was afoot and finding the final act not as objectionable as I was led to believe. Not perfect of course but acceptable. Oh believe me, I shed tears. Sobbed like a baby in parts but apart from the last couple of episodes, most of the main cast got a decent send-off consistent with who they are. Truth be told the narrative had been foreshadowing character deaths as early as the set-up of the story so no one can say that the audience wasn’t fairly warned.

There’s no doubt in my mind that A Journey to Love is one of the best C dramas of 2023. Sadly it falls short of being a masterpiece largely because of how the show paces the main romance. A romance peaking early doesn’t have to be an obstacle to greatness but the issue in this series is that the primary romance which doesn’t have enough weight to be centrestage is often given space at the expense of other characters and their arcs. It doesn’t help that it’s a relatively low conflict romance which is all the fashion now. Moreover such a romance can’t go the distance for a story that’s about far more pressing matters. The lead actors do well with what they’re given but in a show where there are opportunistic conspiracies and war drums thundering in the back of beyond, the long stretches of courtship rituals between the leads diminishes the stakes. I would never object to a well-written power couple but there’s only so much candy-eating or waxing philosophic that’s required to make the point. Even if they take on de facto parental roles in the meantime. In a wuxia story like this where camaraderie and conflict are key elements, romance should only really be a side dish. Sugar should only be used sparingly and never to overwhelm the blend of herbs and spices that make the dish unique.

Nevertheless what makes this show better than most and as good as Meet Yourself or The Heart is the way it successfully juggles multiple characters throughout the narrative and fleshes them out in well-considered arcs. Their stories don’t entirely revolve around the leads which is a net positive considering the output of C dramas in the last 12 months. It is a testament to the writer’s skill that the best developed characters in this show are not the leads although they are likeable as they come. Much has been said about Yang Ying’s steep learning curve to statesmanship but it’s also the case that a veteran like Ning Yuanzhou embarks on his own hero’s journey. A jaded disillusioned seasoned campaigner who desperately wants to retire. He’s up to his neck with the court and inter-tribal politics. But the call to adventure comes knocking on his door and for the sake of righting some terrible wrongs he reluctantly gathers a group of old brothers-in-arms to rescue a pathetic figure of an emperor being held hostage in a neighbouring country. Barely out of the blocks he meets an old nemesis and they inadvertently fall in love in a relationship born out of necessity and uneasy humour. Still they are always far more than lovers. From first to last they remain collaborators in a larger mission to bring peace to the central plains. Ren Ruyi, an assassin nurtured by the Scarlet Guards and the former empress of An, becomes not only teacher to Yang Ying but is schooled in the art of ordinary living. Nevertheless for the likes of Ning Yuanzhou, Ren Ruyi and Co, the ordinary life is a pipedream reserved for the common folk who bear the brunt of geopolitical machinations.

Even Li Tongguang who isn’t exactly a favourite with his apron strings shackled firmly to Ruyi grows on you towards the end. Frankly I thought his attachment to Ruyi was somewhat overdone but he does (thank Heavens) come good at the 11th hour. Better late than never but still later than I would have liked. The Oedipal overtones had me wincing but thankfully there are others to mitigate his manbaby antics. What’s far more unexpected, however is the Wu emperor’s redemption arc. It’s pleasing that such a useless man grows a backbone and becomes a positive influence in how the affairs of Wu unfold. He becomes the king that not only his people need but that tumultuous world. By setting aside his own ego and ambition, he is more effective than he would ever be. That’s contrasted with Li Zhan the emperor of An who unfortunately has no one beside him to curb his expansionist tendencies and chastise him into benevolence. Once he had the Empress Zhaojie as his sounding board but for a man lacking in scruples, love quickly turns into an impediment not a guiding principle. He commits one of the worst crimes anyone in a place of power can by colluding with the enemy and putting national interests at the bottom of his agenda.

Is it me or has it become customary in C dramas to give “second” romantic male leads serious Mummy issues in recent days? There’s nothing inherently wrong with that but attachment issues don’t necessarily translate easily/well into romantic story possibilities. In fact it is often a hinderance. Guys who pine for Mother seem like whiny boys rather than men who are ready to do well for king and country. I can never buy into Li Tongguang as an alternative to Ning Yuanzhou — in fact it is laughable to even consider that possibility. Some of those revelations contradicts his earlier claims to fame and dramatic rise to power.

Despite backdrop and the mission at hand, the show never forgets that it’s all about family. Being a family certainly but more importantly becoming one with the addition of Ren Ruyi. When a household is a united front, it is an unstoppable force of nature. Each member knows their part, accept the scope of their limitations and are able to set aside their own interests for the greater good. The group is a finely tuned instrumentality of individuality, duty and self-sacrifice. The final act with all its flaws still manages to bring that message home. In times of turmoil, no one should call upon others to make sacrifices if they aren’t willing to do likewise. Eventually the incompetent emperor of Wu transforms into an inspiring national figure when it finally sinks what governance is all about as he is witness to the Liu Dao family at work for his benefit. The cutting rebukes from various quarters obviously don’t hurt either. But a man in his position learns something of supreme importance — the leader of the team is also a member of the team. He needs them as much as they need him. That is also why Ms Ming who was originally the princess’ chaperone and tutor is kicked out in favour of Ruyi. She’s immediately recognizable as a poor fit for a family that needs to be adaptable when the unpredictable is guaranteed to occur.

This is also why my favourite character and arguably the best written character in this show is Yu Shisan. His flamboyance and braggadocio has him stealing every scene he’s in. Fang Yilun is perfect in his delivery of the role — a mixture of mirth and mindfulness. Too much and it could tip into pure camp. But Shisan who could easily be a loose cannon somewhere else is a man who knows where his place is. Occasionally the shyster peeps through. At other times there are glimmers of an old soul sagely making his observations. As he says he is the best looking man on the stage and yet he takes orders from Ning Yuanzhou with unquestioning obedience. He is unique among his peers in the way he adorns himself and in his relationship with women. Yet when push comes to shove he is unequivocally a team player. Despite all the ribbing and posturing, his loyalty to his fellow travellers is undeniable. When we are first introduced to him he’s not languishing in prison as others might but manages to be be the life of the party under such dismal conditions. It also speaks volumes of Ning Yuanzhou that he can command the respect and services of a man with a philanderer like Yu Shisan.

So yes, this is about character. Not just in the sense of roles in a story but of the mettle of the individuals take stage. It’s textbook heroism writ large. Who are these heroes? Indeed heroes. The reasons they are always needed even if the people who don’t deserve them, need them desperately.

When the five men first descend on the wet-behind-the-ears princess there’s reverberations of spaghetti western Ennio Morricone in the background. Although I myself get Magnificent 7 vibes especially on hindsight as the men turn around to face A’Ying as she shouts “Yuanzhou ge ge.” At that point A’Ying has a lot to learn and there are plenty of rude shocks yet to be faced. Her dependency on the Magnificent 6 is largely correlated with the building up of her perspicacity because there comes moments when she will have to walk alone.

It’s a suicide mission and the men know it. The notion of sacrifice prefigures strongly even in those early episode. Liu Dao Tang was created to serve King and Country. They were fodder in the war that Wu lost to An and they are fodder again in a hostile landscape where there are multiple agenda at play. Not everybody wants this mission to succeed. In fact hardly anyone does. Until the late great awakening.

The best team in the world must be prepared to give their all and that includes their lives. In Episode 6 where Ning Yuanzhou lectures a timid A’Ying on what sacrifice means from the rooftop, he tells her that even though she never personally had anything to do with the politics or war of the country, she benefited from being a member of the royal family. Of course not everybody has to make the ultimate sacrifice but everyone is called to give up something for a greater purpose and that includes A’Ying. She is called to give up her innocence, her youth and her loves. Needless to say, it’s glorious to watch her metamorphosize and take flight into places which would have once left her quaking in her boots.

In the end Wu fares better than An. Undoubtedly it’s Liu Dao Tang and Ning Yuanzhou’s valiant example that makes the difference. Perhaps it’s also the fact that the country suffered a humiliating defeat not too long ago. The results speak for themselves. When the leadership of a country puts its people first, there are flow-on benefits. There is an expectation that talented people are gifts to the community — they have a calling… or a vocation that is beyond the ordinary. Extraordinary people are “called” by virtue of the talents they possess. Yu Shishan’s memorable life motto echoes this. “A person like me lives to drink the strongest wine, make the best friends, fight the best wars, and look at the most beautiful women.” He knows that his life is marked out for something beyond what’s “normal”.

There are larger forces at work. Their sacrifice has meaning in a much larger narrative of existence and the rewards for them are not material. The endowment of talents is its own reward. There’s a line from the New Testament that speaks to this:

From everyone who has been given much, much will be demanded; and from the one who has been entrusted with much, much more will be asked. (Luke 12:48)

Those who like their superhero shows will remember Uncle Ben’s admonishment to Peter Parker in all iterations — “With great power comes great responsibility”. This is the theme that runs right through the narrative’s ups and downs. A motley crew of talents who hear the call and come to the table with bells on. Afterall, if they don’t, who else will?