After weeks of binge-watching When Destiny Brings The Demon (献鱼), viewers were ready for a satisfying payoff. Instead, the finale delivered a jarring slap in the face—leaving fans asking: Did the writers truly think this would work? Let’s unpack why the show’s closing moments felt more like a middle finger than a resolution, from plot holes that could sink a ship to a protagonist reduced to a hollow shell.
Reality Clashes Hard
For 30+ episodes, Liao Tingyan (廖停雁) lived in a dreamy Xiuxian (修仙) world—until the finale yanked her back to "reality." Fresh out of that fantasy, she’s still got bandages on her head but is already drowning in work tasks from a cold, unflinching boss. The message? Even in TV land, you can’t escape the grind. This brutal contrast between her magical adventures and soul-crushing 9-to-5 might aim for "relatable," but it backfires. One minute she’s flying with immortals; the next, she’s begging for a deadline extension. The whiplash makes the fantasy feel less like an escape and more like a tease.
Then there’s the medical nonsense. Throughout the series, Liao’s "dreams" cut to chaos: doctors performing CPR, monitors beeping, her life hanging by a thread. But post-finale? A doctor dismisses it as "mild concussion." Wait—since when does mild concussion require chest compressions? This lazy inconsistency isn’t clever; it’s insulting. Viewers aren’t idiots—we notice when the writers forget their own rules.
Hero’s Arrival… Who Knows?
Just as frustrating: the romance wrap-up. Sima Jiao (司马焦), Liao’s Xiuxian love, suddenly appears in the real world. How? Why? The show gives zero answers. One second, Liao’s stuck in office hell; the next, Sima’s there, smiling. No explanation—just a quick glance and a fade-out. For 1,500+ minutes, we watched their chemistry build. Then, at the finish line, the writers hit mute. A hug, a "I missed you," even a "Let’s get coffee" would’ve sufficed. Instead, we’re left to fill in the blanks—like unpaid fan writers.
This "artistic blank space" trend is over. Shows pad episodes with filler but skimp on conclusions. When Destiny Brings The Demon isn’t alone—A Dream within a Dream (书卷一梦) pulled the same move. Big bads get defeated, leads share a glance, and… credits roll. Viewers deserve better than being told, "Imagine the rest!"
Heroines: Just Empty Suits?
The laziness doesn’t stop at endings. When Destiny Brings The Demon fails to flesh out Liao’s character. Why does she crave escape? Her real-world self is a quiet "wage earner," but in the Xiuxian world, she’s vibrant. What flips that switch? The show never says. This isn’t unique—A Dream within a Dream’s lead needed actress Li Yitong (李一桐) to write her backstory in a post. "Slacker" isn’t a personality; it’s a trait. Without depth, heroines become props—there to make heroes look better.
Across Xiuxian and time-travel dramas, this pattern repeats. Writers drown in male lead arcs, adding side characters to stretch runtime, but forget: the female lead isn’t a mannequin. When Destiny Brings The Demon’s finale isn’t just bad—it’s a symptom. Until writers stop treating heroines like set dressing, these shows will keep feeling hollow.
So, did When Destiny Brings The Demon treat viewers like fools? The finale sure acts like it. From nonsensical medicine to a hero’s mystery arrival, and a female lead with all the depth of a post-it note, the show’s closing moments are a masterclass in missed opportunities. Here’s hoping future dramas learn: Great stories need great endings—and great characters deserve more than a smile and a fade-out.
