Good things are worth waiting for, and the arrival of Shadow Love has undoubtedly injected fresh heat into the costume drama market just as the summer season was winding down.
On August 24, the fantasy romance drama Shadow Love premiered on iQIYI. Adapted from Jiu Lu Fei Xiang's novel of the same name, the series tells the story of Li Shuang, a fierce general of the Tai Jin Kingdom, who rescues the amnesiac enemy prince Duan Aodeng (Jin An). By accident, the two become bound by a blood contract, kicking off a love story that straddles both personal desire and national duty—sweet yet laced with anguish. From the very first episodes, the show has hooked audiences with its comic-inspired fantasy elements, reincarnation-spanning romance, and polished production quality. Heroine Li Shuang's archery scenes and Jin An's supernatural transformations quickly became viral "must-rewatch" moments among fans.
On its debut day, Shadow Love soared past 7,000 heat index points on iQIYI, climbing to 8,000 the very next day—earning a spot in the platform's "Hall of Fame."
Meanwhile, conversations about the show's narrative design, character construction, and visual aesthetics have kept trending across social media.
From what's aired so far, one thing is clear: in a market oversaturated with lookalike dramas and increasingly high viewer expectations, Shadow Love has deliberately taken the risk of breaking convention. That boldness is exactly why it has managed to stand out.
Fantasy Setting, Endless Twists
The first impression Shadow Love leaves is simple: fresh.
The story follows General Li Shuang (played by Song Yi), who accidentally saves an enemy prince, Duan Aodeng (played by Cheng Lei), stripped of all his memories. As they spend time together, affection quietly grows between them. Yet once his true identity comes to light, the two who once swore eternal devotion are forced to face each other on the battlefield.
Amidst political scheming and looming crises, both characters—who despise war at heart—use strategy and empathy to defuse conflict, choosing words over weapons, and ultimately defend their homelands together.
Chief director Deng Ke has a proven gift for atmosphere. His previous works, The Legend of Shen Li and Folding Phoenix Tail, are still remembered for their iconic set pieces. With Shadow Love, his command of mood intensifies the show's fantasy elements, weaving them into emotionally charged, visually striking sequences.
Before this, it was almost unthinkable for a term like "manhua-like" to dominate audience reviews of a historical drama. Yet the very first scene to set the internet ablaze was none other than the male lead's blood-pool rebirth. Under a rain of crimson that fell like rose petals, Duan Aodeng emerged with glowing blue sigils across his body and mismatched eyes shimmering through the haze—an image so bold and cinematic it stamped itself into viewers' memories.
After the Yu Linglong is implanted in Duan Aodeng's body, he loses his memory and reverts to the form of a child. By accident, he forms a blood contract with heroine Li Shuang and takes the name Jin An. Whenever his master Li Shuang is in danger, Jin An "levels up," transforming into the mysterious warrior in black with overwhelming combat power.
These fantasy mechanics give Shadow Love fresh creative space for action choreography and emotional resonance. They not only keep refreshing the audience's viewing experience but also elevate the blood-pumping storytelling of costume dramas to a whole new dimension.
The novelty of the story elements also sparks innovation in the central romance. The male lead undergoes three identity shifts—from Jin An, to the mysterious warrior, to Duan Aodeng—and with each transformation, his relationship with Li Shuang evolves: from pure devotion, to equal partnership, to tortured entanglement.
The blood contract makes Jin An instinctively loyal to Li Shuang in the beginning. At this stage, she is not only the one person he can trust and depend on, but also the only bond tying his amnesiac self to the world. This "loyal puppy" setting overflows with purity and attachment.
When Jin An becomes the mysterious warrior, his immense strength allows him to fight side by side with Li Shuang, their emotions heating up through perfect teamwork. Later, once Jin An regains his memory and reverts to the cold prince Duan Aodeng, the clash between their enemy identities and lingering affection complicates their bond, pushing the love-hate tension to its peak.
Every reversal of identity and allegiance injects new sparks into the story, effectively easing viewer fatigue. This "three lives in one lifetime" entanglement of destiny, brimming with emotional tension, is precisely the kind of extreme narrative that caters to a wide range of audience preferences.
Blood-Pool Rebirth, Dazzling Transformation
The strongest impression of Shadow Love in its opening episodes is that it knows exactly what today's viewers want—delivering it in a fresh, entertaining way that frames the male lead as a "Chinese-style superhero."
From the very first episode, the drama pulls no punches. It delivers two back-to-back "out-of-bath" moments for the male lead: the first is a standard after-bath shot highlighting his sculpted physique, sending fans into excited squeals; the second, far more subversive, is the now-iconic blood-pool rebirth sequence. This scene instantly went viral, earning actor Cheng Lei the dual nicknames of "Bath Emperor" and, after this scene, the upgraded "Blood-Bath Emperor"—cementing yet another unforgettable image in the ever-competitive world of on-screen bathing.
The camera lingers with precision as Duan Aodeng falls into the blood pool and then emerges from it. The thick liquid runs down his drenched black hair and sharply contoured face, sliding over his bare chest where eerie blue sigils glow. His mismatched red-and-blue eyes flash coldly as a rain of blood descends across the frame. The entire tableau bursts with tension and aesthetic impact, a spectacle both shocking and mesmerizing.
This sequence is not only visually stunning but also a layered blend of character development and key plot progression. The Duan Aodeng who emerges from the blood pool is no longer a mere human—he has become a "shadow puppet," forged by the possession of the demonic jade relic Yu Linglong. The shadow puppet has no memory, its temperament vastly different, and it must rely on a blood master. Because the Yu Linglong spirals out of control, Duan Aodeng reverts into the form of a child and accidentally forges a blood contract with Li Shuang, the enemy general who takes him back to her camp, where he becomes "Jin An." This comic-book-like fantasy setup delivers a rush of novelty, while the male lead's shifting identities pull the audience deeper into the story's suspense.
From that point on, Li Shuang becomes Jin An's reluctant "blood-pack caretaker," periodically providing him with blood. Yet whenever Li Shuang is in danger, Jin An—driven by the shadow puppet's instinct to protect its master—transforms once more, unlocking his third identity as the mysterious warrior in black. In these moments, glossy black armor snaps into place, his dark hair turns silver and wolf-tail styled, and he radiates a dangerously seductive aura. With the flourish of dazzling visual effects and slow-motion framing, the manhwa aesthetic reaches full throttle, embodying a "Chinese-style superhero" in live-action form.
But the appeal of the mysterious warrior lies not only in his striking look. Descending from the sky, he shields Li Shuang from a bandit ambush, and the two fight back-to-back. Their fluid combat sequences, combined with powerful special effects, heighten both the intensity and the spectacle of the action. Layered on top is Liu Yuning's rousing battle song Du Ai (独爱), its strong guofeng (Chinese folk-inspired) energy amping up the hot-blooded atmosphere and hitting all the right notes for younger audiences.
Production Value
On the production side, Shadow Love doubles down on meticulous detail to enrich its texture and classical flavor. Even within the first few episodes, the show projects a strong sense of Eastern aesthetics and historical depth, seamlessly meshing with its political intrigue and national-defense storylines.
Since both leads are generals with near-mythical martial power, the costume and prop design breaks away from the common wide-sleeved, flowing robes of traditional costume dramas. Instead, the outfits emphasize strength and presence. Li Shuang's armored red battle garb and tied-up warrior hairstyle highlight both her commanding aura and her identity as a woman, embodying her passion, loyalty, and determination to protect her country. The result is a distinct expression of feminine strength that fuses softness with steel.
As for the male lead, Duan Aodeng's princely attire reflects the luxury of his status as Yan Kingdom's Prince An'nan. After losing his memory and becoming Jin An, however, his look softens and grows more approachable, adding a youthful, puppy-like innocence. There's even a playful scene where Li Shuang takes Jin An shopping for new clothes—a gender-swapped twist on the classic "CEO buys a makeover for his wife" trope. This moment not only entertains but also adds yet another visual layer to the male lead's evolving image.
The details of the set design also mirror the personalities and story arcs of the two leads. The Longwind Army's encampment uses a red-toned palette, echoing the color of Li Shuang's armor. This signifies that she and the Longwind Army are inseparable—she is its very soul. By contrast, Duan Aodeng's Yan Kingdom camp is rendered in colder hues, perfectly reflecting his depth and political cunning as a powerful prince. It makes him seem both inscrutable and distant.
The stark contrast between these color schemes visually externalizes the opposing identities and positions of the male and female leads. Their love could never be a simple romance between man and woman; from the very beginning, it is intertwined with matters of state, the survival of armies, and the fate of common people. It brims with a sense of destiny. The weight of national duty, fused with the fantastical concept of a blood bond and the hot-blooded, anime-style transformations, together deliver costume-drama audiences an unprecedented sense of freshness.
Puppy Love, Power Couple, and Star-Crossed Anguish
Of course, the reason Shadow Love soared in popularity right from its premiere isn't only due to its high production values. At the story level, the show excels at leveraging extreme contrasts in character design and delivering high-stakes dramatic tension.
Song Yi's portrayal of Li Shuang defies the stereotypical image of a female general. She may look petite and delicate, but who says a general must fit a single mold? Armed with her longbow, she often relies on agility and cunning to fight foes larger and stronger than herself. She embodies the dashing heroism of a general, yet her identity as a woman is never erased by her military role. This layered characterization resonates strongly with modern female viewers.
The male lead's shifting identities and temperaments provide an even bigger draw. The cold, imperious Prince An'nan Duan Aodeng, the naïve and sweet amnesiac Jin An, and the silver-haired, masked savior in black all exist within one person. Through just this single CP pairing, audiences get to enjoy three distinct modes of romance: the older-woman/younger-man dynamic with Jin An ("puppy love"), the equal-footed "power couple" synergy with the mysterious warrior in black, and the enemies-to-lovers anguish of Duan Aodeng the rival prince versus Li Shuang the general. This variety caters to multiple audience preferences.
It must be said that in weaving its "one lifetime, three identities" romance, Shadow Love gives viewers a visceral sense of hormones in motion—sometimes teasing, sometimes ambiguous, sometimes pure and sincere. The CP sparks are endless. Yet beyond the eye-catching surface, the show's narrative core is built on solid ground, carrying themes that invite deeper reflection.
In today's context, the drama stages a dialogue with modern values by exploring the tension between personal identity and duty to one's country. As the only female general of Tai Jin, Li Shuang embodies both strength and softness, shattering the old stereotype that women in ancient times could only survive by attaching themselves to men. Her character resonates with today's ideals of independence and decisiveness, presenting a fully realized expression of female strength and self-worth. Instead of reducing women to narrative tools, the show gives Li Shuang depth and authenticity. Meanwhile, Jin An's journey—from losing himself to rediscovering his mission—mirrors the modern dilemma of reconciling individual identity with collective responsibility. When the two ultimately face the choice of "ending war by putting down arms," it will not only upend traditional story tropes but also offer a romantic answer to the modern question: how to balance personal happiness with fulfilling social responsibility.
For now, With Jin Chang'an has only just begun to peel back the layers of its story. The leads are still in the tentative first stage of attraction. The bigger hooks—when Jin An will regain his memory, how the blood pact will be resolved, and how two people bound to opposing sides can coexist—are all waiting to unfold. The suspense lies in whether they can break free from the chains of identity to write the true meaning of "With Jin Chang'an."
Female Characters Beyond Slogans: A Vivid and Grounded Ensemble
In our earlier review of summer costume dramas, we noted that many recent romance-driven historical shows fell into the trap of chasing "politically correct" portrayals of women. The result? Characters that feel stiff, formulaic, and lacking in emotional authenticity.
So how does a drama truly escape the "slogan-driven heroine" cliché? The answer is straightforward: give female characters their own career arcs and agency, rather than just lofty lines.
With Jin Chang'an makes a welcome breakthrough here. Its women aren't simply shouting slogans of empowerment—they embody agency through specific actions and choices.
Take Li Shuang, played by Song Yi. Unlike many similar characters who lean heavily on "de-feminized" traits, Li Shuang enters the story already as a seasoned, composed military commander. She doesn't need exaggerated armor or contrived displays of dominance to earn respect in a male-dominated battlefield. Instead, her leadership is marked by a balanced blend of firmness, composure, and wisdom.
One particularly striking detail is her all-female guard unit within the general's mansion. As a woman in power, it feels natural for her to trust and empower other women. This makes the identity of "female general" not only convincing but also refreshing in its execution.
Because years of battle make injuries a constant in Li Shuang's life, she needs a physician she can truly trust. In the drama, that role is filled by Lu Xin, played by Shi Ce.
From here, we see how the show builds a small but tightly knit circle of women around Li Shuang. This isn't just a logical choice for the plot—it also reflects the kind of support networks women can form once they hold power.
The general must strategize and lead troops into battle. The physician must master medicine and tend to the wounded. The female guards must train with discipline and track down criminals.
With Jin Chang'an avoids hammering its message with heavy-handed slogans or "quote-worthy" lines. Instead, it conveys women's independence and inner strength through tangible actions woven naturally into the story.
At the same time, Li Shuang isn't spared the difficulties that come with her other identities—as elder sister, as daughter. The turbulent politics of the court, the burden of protecting her family, and her emotional clashes with her younger brother Li Ting (played by Wu Yuheng) are all challenges that remain unsolved, no matter her rank as general.
Her identity as a female general is not a "cheat code" or an all-purpose halo, but just one facet of her complex life.
And this layered portrayal isn't limited to the heroine. The very origin of the show's story could be summed up as "a woman's ambition." Qin Fei of the Yao Kingdom, played by Zhao Yuanyuan, seeks to harness the power of the Jade Linglong to turn the emperor into her puppet and seize control of the entire court. Unlike many similar dramas, her character doesn't need to undergo a clichéd "fall into darkness." She chooses, from the very beginning, to be the mastermind behind the web of power.
Whether general or schemer, healer or guard, each woman has her own goals and convictions. Together, these flesh-and-blood figures weave the vivid and grounded female ensemble that makes With Jin Chang'an stand out.
