Blossoms in Adversity is not what you’d call a popular C-drama (Chinese drama). It wasn’t waited for with bated breath, it didn’t have any particularly well known actors (aside from Eddy Ko), and its production was relatively low-budget. Yet here I am, writing about it, rather than the far more acclaimed The Double or the highly anticipated Princess Royal. So why should you care about a random Chinese drama that disappeared with little fanfare? Why do I care?

Because, through questionable acting choices and inconsistent plotlines, Blossoms in Adversity offers a story that was unexpected, subversive, and, above all, hopeful. A refreshing change of pace for those familiar with C-dramas, and a low-stakes entry point for anyone new to the genre.

Skipping the complex magic systems and Game of Thrones-esq court politics which characterise historical C-dramas, Blossoms in Adversity focuses on the noble Hua family. After all Hua men are banished and stripped of their land, the remaining women, led by the well-travelled Hua Zhi (Zhang Jingyi), try to keep their family alive in a society that believes females can never support themselves. In the background, our leading man Yangxi (Yitian Hu), struggles to tear himself away from his emotionally abusive uncle, who happens to be the Emperor (Yitian Hai).

“Women Can Do Things!…But Not As Well As Men” and Faux Feminism

As you might’ve guessed, the not-so-subtle message of Blossoms in Adversity is the tired “women can do things”, which put me on the defensive immediately. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not against female empowerment. However, C-dramas tend to have surface-level feminist messages, while still, at their core, limiting female agency. Creating a “women can do things!…but not as well or as importantly as men” message.

This isn’t exclusive to C-dramas, Western media is also very guilty of this. Tell me if this sounds familiar: a trope, for example a slasher killer hunting down a teen girl, perfectly acceptable in the ‘80s, now reeks of sexism. Rather than altering the trope to, say, not romanticise violence against women, the writer just turns the girl into a “strong female character.” But all this does is distract the audience. It doesn’t matter how many sassy, confident women you stuff into the story—a girl is still being hunted for entertainment.

The first episode of Blossoms in Adversity has all the problematic makings of a faux feminist story: a “not like other girls” protagonist; villainised aunts and sisters; and an overpowered male lead embroiled in a court conspiracy, arguably more significant than the female lead’s family drama. But just as the show finished lining these tropes up, they knocked them all down, subverting them one by one.

Hua Zhi’s Character Arc: From “Not Like Other Girls” to Ally Extrordinair

I have a strained relationship with the term “pick-me.” Without a doubt pick-me girls exist. Hell, I was one of them. But it strikes me odd that “pick-me” condemns putting down other women for the sake of a man, yet itself is a term for putting down a type of woman. Increasing the irony, “pick-me” somehow manages to make a woman’s actions all about a man, or the desire to be “picked,” while degrading the same woman for only thinking about men. (Let's not even talk about the infantilization of “girl”.)

Hua Zhi is a spectacular example that you can be a “pick-me” and it can have nothing to do with men. Shockingly, women can be toxic all on their own. Zhi resents the females in her life and believes herself superior. As Zhi grows increasingly frustrated trying to command her newly poor family through their hardship, she even has her own: “I’m not like them, they can’t do anything, unlike me…” rant in the early episodes. At the same time, Zhi is completely apathetic to marriage,and holds no respect for any men in her family, aside from her grandfather (Eddy Ko), who already favours her.

Instead of wanting to be picked, Zhi is “not like other girls” because she isn’t. One, she is highly autism-coded. But, more relevantly, the “other girls” in question (her female family members) aren’t the homogenous stereotype she takes them to be—they’re individuals who are also pressured, as she is, to act a certain way. In a lovely scene, the three matriarchs display their talents: one sings, one plays, one scribes, and they all do so brilliantly. In a turning point, Zhi realises: ‘They all had their own dreams before they joined this family.’

The family eventually flourishes not because Zhi led the useless “other girls” to victory, but because each woman found their own strengths and, importantly, the confidence to use these, to differ from the “perfect” wife. To be individuals. The snobby sister (Chutong Fang) became the family scholar, while the mean control-freak aunt (Myolie Wu) became the family banker, and Zhi goes from isolated and resentful to helping women around her reclaim their individuality and autonomy. The redemption of a pick-me indeed.

Whether You’re a Merchant’s Wife or the Emperor, You Still Have Dishes

Our love interest Yangxi begins as a similarly well-travelled stereotype. The renowned Love Like the Galaxy is but one (of many) shows which also travels this trope. A warrior prince and spymaster’s (Wu Lei) court machinations drive the story beats, while the female lead’s (Zhao Lusi) family drama is relegated to filler content. More recent perpetrators of this formula are The Double and my beloved Story of Kunning Palace.

Rather than being guided by Yangxi’s court politics, every plot point comes back to home life. And I mean every single plot point. Even the court drama ultimately just comes down to the Emperor being a terrible father-figure. Emperor or housewife, you still have dishes, and you still have children. Or, as Zhi’s grandfather said himself: “Your personal affairs are worldly affairs.”

Relegating family life to filler is honestly so common in C-dramas I didn’t even realise it was a trope until Blossoms in Adversity flipped it. This is the show’s greatest strength: problematising C-drama tropes. After all, is it not telling that most historical C-dramas create a world that relegates women to the private life, then make state politics (a public life concern) more plot significant than family dynamics (a private life concern)? What does that say about historical women in China?

Subversion and critique aside, I’m just a burnt out uni student. I need some light in my life. And this show manages to do all this subversion while still being so idealistic it crosses the line into fantasy. Don’t mistake me, Blossoms in Adversity has its very serious moments (there is an attempted rape for heaven’s sake), but there is a fog of happy endings that sits over the show. Given the state of the world, it's refreshing to see one well meaning girl single-handedly fix corruption by just being kind.

There’s something about this idealism, a legitimate belief that everything will work out if we just stick with our principles, that people are not as evil as they appear, which inspires action. Where grimdark shows the gritty realities and wrongs of the world, sometimes what someone needs to change things is hope. Hope that the world isn’t as dark as everyone says. Hope that it can be changed.

So if you feel like watching it, the entire series is available on YouTube. Ah…I love free stuff.