The Chinese anime Renegade Immortal (仙逆) recently released its theatrical film Battle of Divine Descent.
Adapted from Er Gen's xianxia web novel, Renegade Immortal follows Wang Lin, an ordinary boy who defies fate to cultivate immortality. Its 2023 anime adaptation received consistent acclaim, transitioning from seasonal to year-round release status. As the franchise's first theatrical film, Battle of Divine Descent was highly anticipated. While its pacing received mixed reviews compared to the series, it delivered abundant romantic moments for the main couple, proving highly appealing to shippers and maintaining strong popularity.
Renegade Immortal's success stems from its mastery of blending male-oriented and female-oriented narrative appeals:
Protagonist Wang Lin operates with ruthless decisiveness, delivering high-octane satisfaction for action fans.
His character design is exceptionally handsome, and he exhibits unwavering devotion to the female lead Li Muwan.
He represents a rare "exemplary fidelity" archetype within male-oriented narratives, whose romantic depth rivals dedicated love interests in female-oriented stories. The "Lin-Wan" couple pairing has attracted a massive fandom, including significant female viewership.
News of an upcoming live-action adaptation has sparked heated discussion. While such adaptations cannot replicate the anime's approach, Renegade Immortal offers valuable insights for male-oriented IPs seeking broader audience appeal.
The Anime's Refined Fusion Strategy
Er Gen's original Renegade Immortal web novel debuted on Qidian in 2009. While positioned as a classic "epic male protagonist" work typical of the platform's early era, protagonist Wang Lin exhibits a surprising narrative quality often associated with Jinjiang—China's premier female-oriented fiction hub. The author explicitly framed the narrative around a "pure love" (纯爱) core theme, crafting Wang Lin as a character fundamentally driven by romance. Unlike typical xianxia heroes who seek immortality for grand ambitions like world salvation or personal transcendence, Wang Lin's entire cultivation journey and spiritual focus ("道心") fixates on a singular goal: resurrecting his beloved Li Muwan. His pursuit of ultimate power finds its sole purpose in saving his wife, embodying the poignant ideal of "cultivating immortality for a millennium, all for one person."
This contrasts sharply with characters like Zhang Xiaofan from the seminal Jade Dynasty (诛仙), who, while also dedicating immense effort to resurrecting Bi Yao, remained emotionally entangled with another female lead, Lu Xueqi. Wang Lin's absolute, undivided devotion significantly amplifies his credibility within the "pure love" archetype. Furthermore, Wang Lin evolves into a compelling anti-hero. After enduring brutal persecution, he undergoes a profound emotional desensitization, transforming into the ruthlessly efficient and decisive "Pockmarked Wang." This complex character type—possessing the magnetic, morally ambiguous appeal often found in antagonistic second leads within female-oriented narratives (where such characters frequently become the audience's "unresolved yearning")—becomes uniquely potent when positioned as the central protagonist. He perfectly embodies the currently popular archetype of the obsessive, love-consumed male lead.
The Renegade Immortal anime adaptation masterfully intensified this Qidian-Jinjiang synthesis. Employing a fast-paced narrative, it streamlined the novel's subplots while meticulously preserving every crucial milestone in Wang Lin's power progression–the core "satisfaction points" for fans of action and advancement. Wang Lin levels up rapidly, engages in decisive, dialogue-minimal combat, and eliminates threats with ruthless efficiency. The anime's exceptional visual effects and dynamic fight choreography translate these sequences into visceral, adrenaline-pumping spectacles, surpassing the impact possible through text alone.
Crucially amplifying the "Jinjiang flavor," the anime significantly enhanced Wang Lin's romantic appeal. While the novel described him as relatively ordinary-looking, the character design renders him strikingly handsome. His devotion to Li Muwan is also portrayed with greater intensity and focus.
This refinement addressed a critical weakness in the source material: during the novel's serialization, author Er Gen eventually succumbed to the pervasive allure of harem tropes within male-oriented xianxia. He introduced a plot device where Wang Lin's clone formed relationships and had children with other female characters. This "pseudo-pure love, true harem" development severely undermined the central romance's integrity and damaged character arcs, alienating many readers initially drawn to the story's promised "pure love" focus. The anime adaptation wisely sidesteps this narrative pitfall, maintaining a laser focus on the core Lin-Wan relationship.
Renegade Immortal distinguishes itself by wholeheartedly committing to a genuine "pure love" narrative. While many male-oriented Chinese animations often rely on overt female fanservice or harem-esque physical intimacy, this series takes a markedly different approach. Li Muwan is portrayed with consistent modesty in her attire–a choice even criticized early on by some male viewers for lacking conventional visual "appeal."
The relationship between Wang Lin and Li Muwan, though profoundly deep, remains remarkably chaste; the adaptation famously omits even a kiss scene. Wang Lin's strict personal boundaries are humorously emphasized through his choice to raise only roosters, symbolizing his absolute fidelity. This deliberate purity significantly enhances its appeal to female audiences. While it may have alienated some male viewers seeking typical fanservice, this strategic choice has been overwhelmingly offset by attracting a massive female fanbase.
Power and Devotion Intertwined
The anime's masterstroke lies in seamlessly blending the core appeals of Qidian (power progression) and Jinjiang (romantic intensity). Wang Lin's relentless quest for strength and his unwavering love brilliantly converge into a singular driving force: "proving devotion through slaughter". He possesses the terrifying power to challenge and even annihilate the Heavenly Dao (天道), coupled with the audacity to wield that power explicitly for the sake of his beloved. This fusion maximizes both his awe-inspiring badassery and the depth of his romantic commitment, creating the uniquely compelling archetype of a "charismatic alpha driven by love"–a character with potent cross-gender appeal.
This dynamic stands in stark contrast to common tropes. Defying heaven is a staple for male-oriented protagonists, but rarely is it explicitly motivated solely by love. Conversely, female-oriented narratives frequently feature male leads or secondary characters entangled in the problematic "wife-killing to prove the Dao" (杀妻证道) trope or undergoing convoluted "chasing-your-wife-to-the-crematorium" (追妻火葬场) redemption arcs, often carrying undertones of female suffering. Against this landscape, Wang Lin's readiness to literally "kick Heaven twice" for Li Muwan's sake offers a uniquely refreshing and emotionally resonant narrative flavor.
While Renegade Immortal's substantial female fanbase undeniably demonstrates broader appeal than typical male-oriented IPs, translating its success to live-action presents significant hurdles:
Audience Disconnect: The female viewership for animation and live-action dramas isn't identical. Fans captivated by the anime's flawlessly rendered 2D characters may struggle to accept real-life actors who inevitably fall short of that idealized perfection. This disconnect risks triggering significant viewer backlash rather than guaranteeing success.
Narrative Structure Limitations: The anime's successful model isn't directly transferable. Crucially, Li Muwan exists in a deceased state for the vast majority of the story, rendering Wang Lin's journey largely a solo endeavor. His animated persona sustains viewer engagement through sheer visual charisma and spectacular displays of power–a feat incredibly difficult for a live-action actor to replicate without substantial narrative support. The adaptation would need to significantly enhance plot complexity and find creative ways to integrate the female lead (likely through extensive flashbacks, dream sequences, or other narrative devices).
Protagonist Morality: Wang Lin's pronounced anti-hero traits require careful calibration for a live-action protagonist, who typically needs a stronger foundation of moral alignment for mainstream acceptance. Mishandling this balance risks undermining the core character that fans connect with.
Core Essence Translation: Successfully capturing the intricate Qidian-meets-Jinjiang essence–the potent fusion of ruthless power progression and obsessive romantic devotion–within the inherent constraints and conventions of live-action drama production remains a formidable creative challenge.
A Broader Pattern and Blending Trend
The strategic fusion seen in Renegade Immortal reflects a broader pattern within successful Chinese adaptations. Consider Joy of Life (庆余年), arguably the most successful male-oriented live-action drama to date. While its core romantic subplot remains disappointingly lackluster–a common weakness in the genre–it integrates potent "Jinjiang DNA" through a different channel: the protagonist Fan Xian's intricate relationships with key older male figures.
The source novel repeatedly emphasizes Fan Xian's ethereal beauty, depicting his powerful "father figures" as possessing deep, almost protective devotion towards him. His complex, emotionally charged dynamic with the Second Prince Li Chengze–a potent mix of affection, rivalry, and resentment–carries distinct danmei (Boys' Love) undertones, appealing strongly to sensibilities cultivated within female-oriented fiction.
This cross-gender appeal successfully translated to the live-action adaptation and even evolved. Zhang Ruoyun's portrayal of Fan Xian in Season 1 presented a rougher, earthier aesthetic, generally acceptable to male viewers but offering limited appeal for female audiences. Season 2, however, showcased a deliberate and significant visual upgrade. Fan Xian emerged with flowing, wavy hair and a strikingly pale, slender countenance, elevating his appearance to meet the aesthetic standards typical of male leads in Jinjiang romance narratives.
Recent drama The Legend of Zang Hai further illustrates this trend. Starring Xiao Zhan–an actor whose immense popularity stems largely from female-oriented narratives and excels in conveying deep emotional nuance–the series hints at fascinating character dynamics. Early glimpses suggest a complex, potentially fraught chemistry tinged with themes of profound conflict and deeper connection between Xiao Zhan's character and the Marquis Pingjin, portrayed by Huang Jue. This dynamic has already captivated many viewers, underscoring a key insight: refining emotional depth and complex interpersonal bonds within traditionally male-oriented stories is a powerful, proven strategy for broadening audience appeal.
Swapping Genders in Tropes
In today's saturated storytelling market, true originality is scarce–especially in mass-market web novels and dramas. Since radical innovation risks alienating audiences, creators increasingly refresh familiar formulas through cross-genre trope adaptation. Gender-swapping conventions between male-oriented and female-oriented narratives has emerged as a particularly potent strategy.
The web novel ecosystem reveals extensive cross-pollination. Take the wildly popular female-oriented "chasing-your-wife-to-the-crematorium" trope: its gender-flipped counterpart "chasing-your-husband-to-the-crematorium" now thrives in male-oriented stories. These narratives feature male leads enduring intense physical and emotional torment before either gaining a superior new partner (making the ex-wife regret her actions) or reconciling with a genuinely repentant ex-wife. Surprisingly, this resonates beyond male readers, tapping into female audience satisfaction points–especially since both the ex-wife and new wife are typically powerful, high-status beauties who dominate the male lead socially and economically.
While early male-oriented versions served as superficial "face-slapping" interludes, recent iterations show remarkable depth. This evolution likely stems from either increased female authors entering male-oriented spaces or male authors recognizing this untapped potential. Platforms like Tomato Novel have become hotbeds for such refined narratives.
Niche innovations abound too. With the rise of "system novels," female-oriented "Fertility Systems"–where heroines wield strategic pregnancies as power multipliers–spawned male-oriented variants like "Many Children, Many Blessings Systems". Here, male protagonists gain rewards by impregnating female characters, often using quick-transmigration frameworks to "rationally" justify harem-building through multiverse progeny.
Trope gender-swapping succeeds by defying genre expectations. Wang Lin's pure love gains impact precisely because it subverts Qidian's harem-saturated norms. Similarly, the clichéd "Dragon Pride Heaven" (龙傲天) archetype feels refreshing when gender-flipped into female-oriented "Phoenix Pride Heaven" (凤傲天) heroines.
Some narratives fundamentally blur boundaries. Works like Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation –originating from female-oriented Jinjiang–famously engage straight male readers unaware of its danmei essence until Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji's romance crystallizes. Its drama adaptation The Untamed functions perfectly through a bromance lens, proving certain stories possess truly universal appeal beyond gendered audiences.
Is Chinese Animation Finally Courting Female Viewers?
At iQIYI's recent World Conference, animation studio Raysoul Digital announced a visual redesign of the two male leads—Wu Xie and Zhang Qiling—for its donghua The Lost Tomb: The Palace of the Seven Kingdoms. "We moved beyond our male-centric perspective," the studio stated, "by inviting many female colleagues to review and refine the designs." The reveal sparked notable excitement among attendees.
This isn't the first time China's donghua industry has openly pivoted toward female audiences. Last year, Bilibili declared at its annual "GuoChuang" (National Creativity) event that 54% of its new titles would focus on female-oriented IPs, aiming to attract more female users. Recent hits like The Island of Siliang (眷思量), Love Between Fairy and Devil (苍兰诀), and How dare you!? (成何体统) further proved the growing market demand for female-driven animated content.
Behind this "female-friendly" trend lies the saturation of the male viewer market. After over a decade of dominating donghua's core audience, male viewers no longer offer fresh growth opportunities. In contrast, the vast untapped female demographic presents enormous spending potential—and a gaping content void yet to be filled.
For years, Chinese animation progressed slowly under the constraints of a single narrative mold. From early wuxia epics like Qin's Moon (秦时明月) and Drawing Jianghu (画江湖系列) to recent fantasy blockbusters like Soul Land and Battle Through the Heavens, the "underdog hero's journey" formula—filled with "battle passion" and "rags-to-riches growth"—became synonymous with donghua.
This creative inertia traces back to the industry's early male-dominated production teams, who relentlessly recycled wuxia tropes. As a result, platform charts long featured interchangeable titles, stifling innovation amid fierce homogenization. Even as studios improved visuals and storytelling, male-oriented shows struggled with stagnant growth due to repetitive themes.
Youyou, an animation company in Guangdong, the person in charge of you revealed that a platform of animation user growth rate for three consecutive years is less than 5%, the conversion rate of payment stagnated between 18% -20%, the male animation market has been caught in the incremental dividend depleted stock game. In stark contrast to this lack of growth, is the explosive theatrical animation movies show female consumer power. In recent years, many of the best-selling theatrical animation movies have been supported by female users, who account for as much as 60% of the audience.
For example, the ratio of male to female viewers for Ne Zha (2019) was 37.7%:62.3%; the ratio of male to female viewers for Ne Zha (2025) was 35.4%:64.6%; and the ratio of male to female viewers for Thirty Thousand Leagues in Chang'an was 35.1%:64.9%. The consumption potential of female users has made platforms realize that domestic animation must pull in female viewers if it wants to achieve user growth again.
These numbers forced platforms to acknowledge: to grow, donghua must embrace female audiences.
Previously, female characters often lingered as "emotional sidekicks" or "visual accessories" on the narrative periphery. Now, studios are quietly undergoing a "she-ism" narrative shift.
When Soul Land's team received floods of feedback asking, "Why is Xiao Wu only there to be saved by Tang San?", they spent six months rewriting her arc. Her pivotal sacrifice transformed from a passive plot device into an act of agency and self-determination.
Result? Female viewership surged from 15% to 30–40%, and "Xiao Wu's Independent Character" trended nationwide on Weibo.
Battle Through the Heavens underwent a similar transformation for its female character Yun Yun. In the original novel, the relationship between Yun Yun and Xiao Yan embodied classic male-oriented wish-fulfillment tropes – Yun Yun existed as an emotional accessory constantly awaiting rescue by the male lead.
To rectify this, the animation production team invited female screenwriters to create original storylines like Yun Yun's "independent expedition through the Monster Mountains," where she resolves crises through her own intellect and combat skills. Liberated from waiting for Xiao Yan's salvation, this portrayal finally aligns with her identity as Sect Leader of the Yunlan Sect. This "de-accessorization" treatment transformed Yun Yun into the capable heroine female audiences desired – evidenced by her Bilibili fan videos surpassing the male lead's in quantity.
"Platforms tell us 80% of female viewers reject overly exposed female character models," Youyou disclosed. "New releases will abandon uniform 'straight-male-goddess' aesthetics." Recent years show donghua advancing both character respect and "de-sexualized" designs:
In Perfect World, Huo Ling'er's red robe replaces body-curve emphasis with dynamic drapery textures
The Island of Siliang modified Tu Li's waist-to-hip ratio and clothed her in coarse linen authentic to her identity
"Donghua creators are gradually shedding the straight-male mindset," Youyou said. Female directors/producers now lead major works like Chang An, The Island of Siliang, and Please Eat Me!!!!! – even historically "straight-male team" Raysoul Digital appointed a female director for Drawing Jianghu: The Degenerate Season 7.
As female creators ascend to industry center stage and male-oriented animations reconstruct "her narratives," Chinese animation will finally discard its "straight-male exclusive" stereotype. The outcome? More female viewers opening their wallets willingly.
"Chinese animation is gradually shedding its male-centric mindset," Youyou noted. Female directors, writers, and producers now lead major projects—even historically "male-dominated" studios like Raysoul Digital hired a female director for The Legend of Sword and Fairy VII. Titles like Chang An, The Island of Siliang, and Please Eat Me!!!!!all benefited from women's creative leadership.
Whether studios refining character designs per female feedback or platforms investing in female-targeted IPs, this shift transcends commercial opportunism—it's a necessary industrial evolution.
Critically, female viewers want more than romance tropes or token "love interests." Recent successes prove their appetite for varied narratives:
Chang An explores patriotism and poetic ideals;
Please Eat Me!!!!! offers stress-relieving slice-of-life escapism;
The Island of Siliang uses Eastern aesthetics to craft female self-discovery arcs beyond romance;
How dare you!? delivers cathartic workplace empowerment.
These cases demonstrate that true female-oriented content responds to multifaceted emotional needs—not just love stories.
As women claim central creative roles and male-centric animations reshape their "her narratives," Chinese animation is finally shedding its "by men, for men" stereotype. The result? More female viewers are ready to willingly invest their time and money—not as an afterthought, but as the driving force of donghua's next chapter.
