Lost You Forever 2 (2024) Ramblings 1

Beware, there be spoilers all around…

Late to the party but perhaps for the best. The consensus is that part 2 wasn’t executed with the same degree of dexterity that part 1 demonstrated. A sentiment that I would mostly agree with as someone who hasn’t read the book. The show’s biggest faux pas is its tendency to make a muck of the “show not tell” principle of storytelling. It may be that the censor’s axe fell unceremoniously in all the wrong places but part 2 is an odd mixture of being too much and too little at the same time. Parts of it were a slog to get through. Other bits felt fillery. Key moments were talked about rather than shown and others were rehashed unnecessarily. Still despite its flaws there was something alluring about the big story.

The first and only time I ever wrote anything about Lost You Forever on this blog was in response to some back and forth about Tushan Jing. On hindsight, it was probably a waste of time although I’m happy that it generated plenty of views and more comments than I’m accustomed to having on this blog bar Hospital Playlist. By his relative non-presence in part 2, it both confirmed my views on him and clarified his actual role in the show. In the scheme of things, he’s a nonentity. A bystander and a love interest. It’s not for lack of trying that the brainwashing doesn’t quite wash. Still I’m not convinced that his devotion is all that evident or healthy. He’s not a character that I would normally wax poetic about because everything is practically handed to him on a silver platter with a bow on top. All because he is set up to be Xiao Yao’s so-called panacea. At the end of the day it’s the triumph of the so-called “second male lead” who gets the girl.

This brings me to a problem I have generally with this show but particularly with Tushan Jing’s arc. The audience is told one thing but then we are shown something else. In telly especially, “tell” will never be as effective as “show”. So when Xinyan Cangxuan says to Jing when all is done and dusted that he deserves the girl because he is the one wholly devoted to her, the words ring rather hollow. Especially when their happiness is gained as a result of the tears, sweat and blood of others. Other people made the necessary sacrifice in order that these two people can have their happily-ever-after. A peaceful, carefree existence is something that is always hard won and never taken for granted.

It’s propaganda undoubtedly. At the end of the finale when Cangxuan surveys the common folk in Qingshui, he and A’Nian makes reference to Xiao Yao as one of the people. Like the hobbits from The Shire, they reap the rewards of Frodo’s sacrifice. Frodo himself will never get to “enjoy” the carefree life of a hobbit again. When all their loved ones are standing at the city gates bidding them farewell, the implications are obvious. Xiao Yao is the voice of the people. Governments must do “hard things” to protect the people so that they can live their lives in relative liberty unencumbered by conflict. It’s the promise of a restful utopia that is brought about vaguely by good governance. Whatever that looks like.

As a coming-of-age story, Lost You Forever is actually brilliant. Perhaps a little bit on the nose with former emperor Grandpa around to pontificate routinely but no doubt there are lessons to be learnt. The thesis here is that life is one zero-sum game with subsequent unforeseen painful outcomes. There’s that one single moment when the decision seems obvious but living with that decision in light of consequences is much harder. But it’s what adults do. They take responsibility for their own actions. Only children whine endlessly about their choices and blame others for being the problem. Adults on the other hand, understand that there are trade-offs. You want to marry a powerful man who doesn’t love you but is in love with someone else? Just be prepared to spend many lonely nights in your luxurious palace waiting for him to front up. In the case of Chenrong Xinyue, mother knew best: Don’t expect love from the new emperor but try to gain his respect.

While some of the messaging about Xiao Yao is about living the good life, there are times when she comes across as a Peter Pan character. One with abandonment issues to boot. I don’t want to make light of other people’s sadness because we’re all made of different stuff but the drama plays up her victimhood card rather excessively. Maybe it’s a sales pitch to sugarcoat the Tushan Jing endgame. Lots of people lost loved ones in the regional conflicts but they don’t necessarily feel the need to wear it on their sleeve to this extent. War is a terrible thing. It not only causes widespread suffering but divides loyalties. It takes a psychological and physical toil on people. But perceiving another human being as a panacea for one’s trauma is not only potentially a weight no one person can bear but dangerous. I’m not advocating for Xiao Yao to go it alone in life. Men and women need each other. Companionship and procreation are wonderful things. Romances continue to be popular for a reason. It is unfortunate, however, that the romantic endgame here comes across so anemic. Two broken people finding their way to each other is usually a winner in my book but here… not so much.

It’s not as if I think Xiao Yao should end up with Xiang Liu just because Tushan Jing is such a disappointment. Tan Jianci is magnificent in the role and I would pay good money to watch a spinoff if the right people are willing. Nevertheless, though he is deeply in love with Xiao Yao, they are on opposing sides of a longstanding conflict and family’s involved. Yet, in the greatest irony of the show, his noble idiocy of saving Tushan Jing and protecting Xiao Yao unconditionally showed him to be the adult in the room. He can’t bring himself to abandon Hong Jiang, his godfather and the Chenrong rebels. And why not? Because he doesn’t idolize love or the object of his affection. Because as someone who has been castigated and scorned as the outsider, he understands what it’s like to be ostracized. It’s isn’t just loyalty. He intimates from a previous exchange with Cangxuan that defeat is inevitable. The Chenrong rebels are a lost cause in search of a resolution. They are pitiful and in a way they don’t belong in this new era of reunification. Perhaps neither does he. He is a creature born of war and bloodshed so that’s the way he has to go. In a real enough way he doesn’t see himself as a man suited for peacetime. Personal happiness is not for someone like him. His place in this story is to finish what he started one way or another as well as to love Xiao Yao in his own fashion. Abandoning the people he has fought alongside for so long is not an option. They have no one else and he’s the best chance they have of fighting to see another day. Xiang Liu is the genius strategist that could have done better for himself than languish among a group of homeless ragtag rebels. He certainly can’t bring himself to change sides, like others have done, and serve a more powerful master that would easily destroy his former comrades. He cannot be a party to that. His own suffering has taught him that much. It’s that same compassion he has for them that animates his love for Xiao Yao.

Xiang Liu is arguably the most fascinating character because he seems contradictory on the surface. In actual fact he is a throwback to a type of warrior that’s loyal to the people around him rather than an ideological cause. It would kill him to betray his brothers-in-arms. And would we want him to? It would make him a lesser serpent of the nine-headed variety.

While characters here are depicted as moral agents, there is a sense that some people at least are called specifically to a purpose by heaven or God. Talents, gifts, genius and calling are words that’s used in reference to this kind of endowment or anointing as it were. There’s also the inescapable variable of one’s history which has a strong bearing on the decision making process. The characters here certainly hold that sense of fatalism and destiny loosely as they grapple with the frailty of their existence.

(More to come)