The much-anticipated finale Lin Jiang Xian(临江仙), starring Bai Lu (白鹿) and Zeng Shunxi (曾舜晞), promised a groundbreaking blend of "divorce xianxia," intricate suspense, and infinite loops. Creator Yu Zheng’s (于正) bold marketing framed it as a genre revolution. Yet, the concluding four episodes delivered not a satisfying resolution, but a maelstrom ofjarring plot twists,hollow characterizations, andnarrative whiplash. Audiences who invested weeks deciphering clues were left bewildered, questioning if innovation was merely a facade for chaotic storytelling.
The finale exposed a core truth: a cascade of reversals means little without logic or emotional grounding. What began as a daring experiment concluded as a cautionary tale of style over substance, leaving viewers to untangle the debris of a meticulously marketed, yet fundamentally flawed, narrative ambition.
The Hype vs. The Hollow Core
Yu Zheng’s pre-release campaign toutedEternal Immortalityas a pioneer—the first "divorce xianxia" drama. This premise centered on Bai Jiusi (Zeng Shunxi) and Hua Ruyue (Bai Lu), a celestial couple navigating a bitter separation entangled with amnesia, deception, and layered conspiracies. Promises of "infinite loops" and psychological suspense fueled fan theories and meticulous plot dissection. The central mystery revolved around identities like Yin Tongzi and the fate of their child, Shi’an.
However, the execution crumbled under its own weight. Key advertised elements, particularly the "infinite loops," manifested as disjointed, unexplained vignettes rather than a cohesive narrative device. The much-hyped "suspense" often relied on withholding basic information from the audience, creating frustration rather than intrigue. Yin Tongzi’s purpose remained frustratingly ambiguous by the final credits, a glaring symbol of the show’s tendency tointroduce concepts only to abandon them. The "divorce" framework, while initially compelling, was ultimately submerged beneath a tidal wave of increasingly convoluted external conflicts, betraying the intimate character study initially suggested.
A Finale of Forced Twists & Narrative Whiplash
The last episodes descended into a relentless onslaught of reveals, each more destabilizing than the last. Qingyang’s murder, orchestrated by the demon-possessed Zhang Suan (revealed to be the vengeful mortal Xiao Jingshan in disguise), triggered a chain reaction of violence. Hua Ruyue stabbed Bai Jiusi, only for Zhang Suan to immediately stab her - a sequence designed for shock over coherence. The subsequent unveiling of Xiao Jingshan as the mastermind, driven by a 600-year-old grudge against the gods for his family’s accidental death, felt like adeus ex machinarather than an earned climax.
Deaths piled up rapidly - Qu Keling, Dan Yang, Lü Suguan, Li Mo, Ning Yan—only to be undermined by arbitrary reversals. Fan Ling’er’s apparent sacrificial heroism was abruptly negated. Bai Jiusi’s self-sacrifice, dissolving his spirit into the Qiyue Sword to empower Hua Ruyue, carried momentary weight. Yet, the subsequentcollective magical repairof the damaged Wuliang Monument by Fan Ling’er, Zhang Suan, and Hua Ruyue felt like a convenient reset button, trivializing the preceding sacrifices. The ultimate victory over Xiao Jingshan lacked catharsis, overshadowed by the sheer exhaustion of navigating so many abrupt, illogical turns.
Fractured Endings & Thematic Collapse
Character resolutions felt rushed, inconsistent, or entirely disconnected from their established arcs. Meng Chu and Qu Xingman found peace, choosing love over duty and rebuilding her sect—a rare, relatively coherent ending. Zhang Suan ascended to lead Jingyun Sect, free from possession, but his dynamic with the devoted Fan Ling’er remained frustratinglyopen-ended, lacking emotional closure despite her pivotal role in saving the realm. Yin Tongzi’s fate was relegated to a baffling post-script: whisked away by the Time Goddess Xi’e to tend a sprouting tree, his origin and purpose forever unexplained—a glaring narrative loose end.
The most egregious narrative shortcut arrived with time travel. Granted a device by Xi’e, Hua Ruyue rewrote history not to fix her present, but to create an alternate reality where Xiao Jingshan’s family survived, negating his villain origin story. This retroactive "fix" fundamentallyundercut the entire plot. It absolved Hua Ruyue and Bai Jiusi of the devastating consequences of their conflict (the "mutual killings," the "burial," the child's death), rendering their arduous journey and sacrifices emotionally meaningless. The final underwater kiss, symbolizing rebirth, played as a hollow romantic gesture in a timeline where their core trauma was conveniently erased. The promised "divorce xianxia" themes of consequence and reconciliation were sacrificed for a facile, paradox-laden "happy ending" that defied its own established stakes and logic.
Audience Backlash: Innovation Betrayed
Viewer reaction to the finale has been dominated byprofound disappointmentand a sense of betrayal. The relentless reversals, initially intriguing, became exhausting and ultimately meaningless due to their lack of setup or consequence. Characters perceived as dead (Fan Ling’er, arguably the impact of Bai Jiusi’s sacrifice) were abruptly revived, cheapening the narrative’s emotional weight and fostering a sense that the audience was beingdeliberately manipulated. Supporting characters like the powerful Celestial Venerables were exposed as narrative props, contributing little beyond token appearances, their potential squandered.
The protagonists' plot armor—surviving countless fatal confrontations—shattered suspension of disbelief. Crucially, the finale failed to deliver on its core promises: the "suspense" unraveled into confusion, the "infinite loops" were irrelevant window dressing, and the groundbreaking "divorce" premise was drowned out by a generic battle against a last-minute villain. The time travel reset wasn’t seen as clever, but as acowardly retreatfrom the complex, painful consequences the show itself had established. While visually polished and initially captivating, Lin Jiang Xian’s legacy is likely to be one of unfulfilled potential and a stark lesson: true innovation requires narrative integrity, not just marketing buzzwords and a whirlwind of disjointed twists. The bitter aftertaste isn’t tragedy, but broken promises and squandered intrigue.
