You know that feeling when you're watching a standard xianxia drama and everything is just so... serious? The protagonist is always crying over a forbidden romance or bleeding from the mouth because their cultivation base exploded. Then you stumble across Once Upon a Time in Lingjian Mountain, and suddenly, the entire genre feels like it's being poked with a stick. It’s weird. It’s loud. It’s actually funny.
If you’ve spent any time in the C-drama rabbit hole, you’ve probably seen the posters of Xu Kai looking incredibly smug in white robes. That’s Lu Wang. He’s the heart of this chaotic masterpiece. Based on the web novel Congqian Youzuo Lingjianshan (which also got a popular manhua and an anime adaptation called Reikenzan), the 2019 live-action series did something most adaptations fail at. It kept the "meta" humor intact.
Honestly, most xianxia takes itself way too seriously. This one? Not so much.
The Lu Wang Factor: Why This Protagonist Breaks the Rules
Lu Wang isn't your typical "chosen one" who suffers in silence. He’s a genius, sure, but he’s also a total jerk. He uses modern logic, physics, and sheer audacity to win fights rather than just swinging a glowing sword around. When he enters the Spirit Blade Sect (Lingjian Mountain), he isn't there to be the most virtuous student. He’s there because he’s got a "Spirit Root" that only comes around once in a millennium, and he knows exactly how much leverage that gives him.
The dynamic between Lu Wang and his master, Wang Wu (played by Zhang Rongrong), is basically the highlight of the whole show. You’ve got a master who is shamelessly greedy, drinks too much, and scams her own students. It’s refreshing. They don't have that heavy, tragic Master-Disciple romance that usually ends in a double suicide. Instead, they trade insults. It’s a masterclass in comedic timing.
Xu Kai really found his stride here. Before this, he was the stoic Fuheng in Story of Yanxi Palace. In Once Upon a Time in Lingjian Mountain, he’s animated. He smirks. He breaks the fourth wall. It’s the kind of performance that reminds you that acting in a comedy is actually harder than acting in a tragedy. You have to land the punchline while wearing five layers of silk and a wig that probably weighs ten pounds.
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Satire as a Narrative Tool
This show is basically the Deadpool of Chinese fantasy. It mocks the tropes we all know. You know the one where the villain explains their entire plan? Lu Wang calls them out on it. The trope where the weak disciple suddenly finds a secret manual? The show treats it like a bureaucratic nightmare.
The writing leans heavily into the absurdity of cultivation. In most shows, "leveling up" is a spiritual journey. Here, it’s treated almost like a video game or a corporate ladder. Lu Wang navigates the Spirit Blade Sect’s entrance exams not by being the strongest, but by outsmarting the system. It’s a critique of traditional power structures, wrapped in a layer of slapstick.
Breaking Down the Production and Style
Visually, the show has that bright, saturated look typical of late 2010s iQIYI and Tencent productions. Some people hate it. They say it looks "cheap" compared to the dark, cinematic grit of something like The Untamed or Longest Day in Chang'an. But for Once Upon a Time in Lingjian Mountain, the brightness works. It matches the tone. You don't want moody lighting when a character is literally being used as a human projectile.
The CGI is... okay. Look, it’s a 2019 TV drama. There are moments where the monsters look like they wandered out of a PlayStation 2 game. But strangely, it adds to the charm. The show isn't trying to convince you this is a gritty reality. It’s a playground.
One thing that doesn't get enough credit is the costume design. While Lu Wang’s outfits are standard "cool protagonist" fare, Wang Wu’s wardrobe is chaotic and slightly disheveled, perfectly mirroring her personality. Even the set design for the different peaks of Lingjian Mountain reflects the eccentricities of the elders living there. It’s world-building through aesthetics.
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Why the Ending Polarized the Fanbase
If you haven't finished the show, brace yourself. The final arc takes a sharp turn. While the first 30 episodes are largely fun and games, the stakes suddenly skyrocket. Some fans felt the shift into a more serious "save the world" plot was jarring. It’s a common problem in C-dramas—the "ending fatigue."
The show tries to balance the humor with a genuine emotional payoff between Lu Wang and Wang Wu. Does it succeed? Sorta. It depends on what you’re looking for. If you wanted a pure parody until the final second, you might be disappointed. But if you grew to care about these idiots, the ending provides some much-needed weight to their journey.
There's also the "Sect Competition" arc which feels a bit stretched out. It’s a classic shonen anime trope, but in live-action, it can feel like the plot is treading water. Still, the character interactions keep it afloat. Hai Yunfan (played by Zhu Yuanbing) provides a great "straight man" foil to Lu Wang’s insanity. Their "bromance" is a fan favorite, providing a grounded emotional core when the master-disciple duo gets too frantic.
Comparing the Live Action to the Source Material
If you’ve read the novel by Guowang Bixia, you know it’s way more "adult." The jokes are raunchier, and Lu Wang is even more of a sociopath. The live-action had to tone it down for Chinese broadcasting regulations (NRTA). Surprisingly, the essence stayed.
The anime adaptation by Studio Deen was many people's first exposure to the story, but it often felt rushed. The live-action actually has more room to breathe. It explores the side characters, like the boss of the inn, Ling Er, giving them backstories that the anime glossed over. It’s one of the rare cases where the live-action might actually be the superior way to consume the story, purely because of the chemistry between the leads.
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How to Watch It Today
Once Upon a Time in Lingjian Mountain is widely available on platforms like iQIYI and Netflix in many regions. If you’re a newcomer to xianxia, don’t start here. You won’t get the jokes. You need to watch a few "serious" shows first—maybe Eternal Love or Ashes of Love. Once you understand the tropes, the parody in Lingjian Mountain becomes ten times funnier.
It’s a 37-episode commitment. That’s actually short for a C-drama. Most of them drag on for 50 or 60 episodes until you’re begging for the protagonist to just ascend already. This one keeps a relatively brisk pace, mostly because it’s structured like a series of comedic vignettes.
Practical Takeaways for Fans
If you're looking for more after finishing the show, here’s what you should do:
- Watch the Anime: It’s called Reikenzan: Hoshikuzu-tachi no Utage. The art style is different, and it covers some ground the show skips, even if it's less polished.
- Check out the Manhua: The art is fantastic and captures the "over-the-top" expressions that are hard to do in live-action.
- Follow Xu Kai’s Later Work: If you liked his comedic timing, he carries a similar energy in parts of Falling Into Your Smile, though it's a modern e-sports drama.
- Look for "Joy of Life": If you loved the "modern person in an ancient world" logic and the clever political maneuvering, Joy of Life (Qing Yu Nian) is the natural next step, even though it’s more of a political thriller than a pure comedy.
The legacy of this show isn't about its special effects or its deep philosophical themes. It’s about the fact that it dared to be stupid. In an industry that often feels like a factory for tear-jerkers, Once Upon a Time in Lingjian Mountain stands out because it just wanted to have a good time. It’s a reminder that even in a world of immortal cultivators and ancient demons, there’s always room for a good scam and a bit of sarcasm.
Next time you’re tired of the "Three Lives, Three Worlds" angst, give the Spirit Blade Sect a visit. Just make sure you keep an eye on your wallet—Wang Wu is probably lurking nearby.
Actionable Insights:
To get the most out of your viewing, pay attention to the background characters during the larger sect meetings; many of the best meta-jokes are hidden in the dialogue of the "extras" who are tired of the main characters' antics. If you're struggling with the subtitles, try to watch on a platform like Viki where the "TC" (timed comments) often explain the specific cultural puns that don't translate well into English.
The show doesn't have a confirmed Season 2, despite the cliffhanger ending, so don't wait around for one—treat the existing episodes as a self-contained journey of Lu Wang's rise to infamy.