Ruyi's Royal Love in the Palace Review: A Masterpiece that Breaks Your Heart

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Introducing "Ruyi's Royal Love in the Palace"

If you think you've seen palace dramas before, let me stop you right there. Ruyi's Royal Love in the Palace isn't just another historical drama about scheming concubines and power struggles in the Forbidden City. This 87-episode Chinese drama is a slow-burn tragedy that will absolutely wreck you emotionally – and I mean that in the most intense, unforgettable way possible. Directed by Wang Jun and written by Liu Lianzi (based on her novel), this 2018 series stars the incredible Zhou Xun as Ulanara Ruyi and Wallace Huo as the Qianlong Emperor (Hongli). What starts as a young, tender love story between childhood friends turns into one of the most devastating portrayals of love's deterioration I've ever witnessed on screen.

I'm not going to sugarcoat this: Ruyi's Royal Love in the Palace broke my heart into a million pieces. Yet it's also one of the most beautifully crafted, emotionally resonant dramas I've ever watched. Set during the Qing Dynasty, the series spans several decades, following Ruyi from her days as a young noblewoman entering the palace as a secondary consort to her eventual rise as Empress – and her tragic fall from grace. Unlike typical harem dramas where the focus is on scheming and climbing to power, Ruyi's story is about something far more painful: watching pure, innocent love wither and die under the weight of power, paranoia, and the cruel realities of palace life.

From the moment I started this drama, I knew I was in for something special. Zhou Xun's portrayal of Ruyi is nothing short of great– her voice alone is soothing, calming, and perfectly captures Ruyi's gentle yet resilient spirit. The cinematography is breathtaking, with every frame looking like a classical Chinese painting. The costumes and jewelry (especially those iconic Manchu nail guards) are exquisite. But what really got me was the emotional depth. This isn't a drama about winners and losers, heroes and villains in the traditional sense. It's about real, flawed human beings navigating an impossible system, and how even the strongest love can be poisoned by jealousy, misunderstanding, and the corrupting influence of absolute power.

I'll be honest with you: this drama will test your patience with its slow pacing, it will frustrate you with characters making bad decisions and scheming, and it will absolutely demolish you emotionally by the end. But if you stick with it, you'll experience one of the most profound, heart-wrenching stories ever told. So grab your tissues (and I mean a LOT of tissues), settle in, and prepare for a journey that will stay with you long after the final episode ends.

Significance of the Title

The English title "Ruyi's Royal Love in the Palace" is pretty straightforward – it tells you this is the story of Ruyi's love within the imperial palace. But the original Chinese title, 如懿传 (Rúyì Zhuàn), carries a deeper meaning that's worth unpacking.

The name "Ruyi" (如懿) itself is significant. The characters roughly translate to "as one wishes" or "according to one's heart's desire." In Chinese culture, a ruyi is also a ceremonial scepter that symbolizes good fortune and the granting of wishes – it's often given as a gift representing the hope that everything will go according to one's wishes. The irony of this name becomes increasingly apparent as the drama progresses. Our heroine Qingying is given the name "Ruyi" by the emperor as a symbol of his wish that she'll always be by his side, living according to both their hearts' desires. But as we watch their relationship crumble over the decades, that name becomes tragically ironic – nothing goes "as wished," and their deepest desires are ultimately denied.

The title also sets up the central tragedy of the series. This isn't a story about political intrigue or palace scheming (though there's plenty of that). It's fundamentally about Ruyi's love – how it begins pure and hopeful, how it's tested repeatedly, and how it ultimately transforms into something unrecognizable. The "Royal Love" in the title isn't just romantic love between Ruyi and the emperor; it also encompasses maternal love, sisterly bonds between the women in the harem, and the twisted, possessive "love" that power creates.

There's something very touching about the fact that this drama is named after Ruyi specifically. Not the emperor, not the palace intrigues – but this one woman's experience of love in an impossible situation. It centers her perspective, her journey, her heartbreak. And by the end, you understand why. Ruyi's story is one of the most gut-wrenching character arcs I've encountered, and her name – with all its promises of wishes fulfilled – becomes a bittersweet reminder of everything she lost.

Short Synopsis (Some Spoilers)

Ruyi's Royal Love in the Palace begins in the Qing Dynasty during the reign of the Yongzheng Emperor. Young Ulanara Qingying is a noblewoman from the prestigious Ulanara clan and the niece of the current Empress (though historically this relationship is fictionalized). She's also the childhood friend and secret love of Prince Hongli, the future Qianlong Emperor. The two share a deep, genuine connection: they grew up together, understand each other's hearts, and dream of a future where they can be together openly.

But their path is never easy. Due to political machinations and the Empress Dowager's disapproval, Qingying is forced to enter Hongli's household not as his primary consort (which would have been fitting for her status) but as a secondary consort, a Cefujin. This is the first of many humiliations she'll endure. When Hongli ascends to the throne as the Qianlong Emperor, Qingying enters the Forbidden City with the hope that her love will finally be recognized. The emperor gives her the name "Ruyi" and the title Consort Xian (meaning "virtuous"), which is actually quite low considering her noble birth and their close relationship.

What follows is a decades-long journey through the four seasons of Ruyi's life in the palace. In the beginning, despite the challenges, Ruyi and the emperor's love seems strong enough to weather any storm. She has loyal friends in the harem – particularly Hailan, a poor Mongolian woman whom Ruyi helps and who becomes her most devoted ally. But Ruyi also faces constant scheming from jealous concubines, particularly Empress Fuca (the emperor's first wife, who is eaten alive by jealousy over Hongli's obvious love for Ruyi) and, later, the cunning and malicious Wei Yanwan.

The drama shows us how palace life slowly poisons everything it touches. The emperor, who once fought to protect Ruyi and promised to always trust her, becomes increasingly paranoid and susceptible to manipulation. He begins to doubt Ruyi, to neglect her, to believe the lies others whisper about her. Ruyi, who entered the palace determined to maintain her integrity and authenticity, is forced to compromise again and again just to survive. She's sent to the Cold Palace (a punishment for disgraced concubines), she loses children, she watches her friends suffer and die, and she gradually realizes that the man she loved no longer exists – he's been consumed by the role of emperor.

Eventually, Ruyi does become Empress – but it's a hollow victory. By that point, the relationship between her and the emperor had deteriorated beyond repair. The second half of the drama is an unflinching portrayal of a marriage falling apart, of trust destroyed, of love turning to indifference and even resentment. There are villains who get their comeuppance, yes, but there are also villains who win. Good people die unfairly. Innocent love is trampled. And through it all, Ruyi maintains her dignity and her truth, even as it costs her everything.

The Ending (Spoilers + My Interpretation)

I need to preface this: the ending of Ruyi's Royal Love in the Palace is one of the most devastating finales I've ever watched, but it's also absolutely perfect. It's the only ending this story could have had, and while it shattered me, it also provided a strange sense of catharsis.

The final episodes take place when both Ruyi and the emperor are in their older years. By this point, their relationship has been damaged beyond repair. The emperor, paranoid and influenced by the manipulative Wei Yanwan (who has become Imperial Consort Ling), suspects Ruyi of having an inappropriate relationship with the Imperial Guard Ling Yunche, a young man who genuinely admired and loved Ruyi but whom she never reciprocated feelings for beyond platonic respect. This accusation – that Ruyi, who has remained faithful and devoted for decades despite endless suffering, would betray him – is the final straw.

Ruyi with her strand of hair (Ep. 81)

In one of the most powerful scenes I've ever witnessed, Ruyi confronts the emperor during an imperial tour. She takes scissors and cuts off a portion of her hair – an act that, in Qing Dynasty custom, is a severe offense for an empress and symbolizes a severing of marital bonds. It's her way of saying "I'm done." After decades of compromising, forgiving, and enduring, Ruyi finally chooses herself. She tells the emperor that the man she loved died long ago, that the person before her is a stranger. The emperor drops the lock of her hair in shock and anger, but what we don't realize until much later is that he secretly kept it all these years.

The emperor, in his arrogance and wounded pride, essentially keeps her confined to Yikun Palace. But Ruyi doesn't care anymore. She's achieved a kind of freedom in her defiance. After Qianlong leaves on one of his trips with a large entourage, the palace becomes peaceful and quiet. For the first time in so long, Ruyi ventures out from Yikun Palace. She visits a terrace overlooking the entire palace grounds – a place that holds deep memories for her and Qianlong, where they used to play together as children, and where Hongli once promised his love to her. She takes one last long look at the place where she spent most of her life.

That evening, Ruyi sits in the courtyard of her palace with her loyal attendant Rong Pei. She tells Rong Pei to sit down and join her for tea, dismissing formalities because after so many years together, they're beyond that. They reminisce about the past – about meeting Hongli for the first time, about watching their favorite play together, about when Hongli told her he wanted them to be together and would always say "don't worry." Ruyi reflects on all the people they've lost over the years – her aunt, the various consorts who died because of endless scheming. She wonders what life would have been like if all the fighting hadn't happened, if her children had survived, if Yonghuang and Yongqi were still alive. Would they all be sitting together drinking tea and chatting – even with the Emperor?

When Rong Pei suggests that Ruyi never stopped missing Qianlong, Ruyi corrects her. Everything seems like it happened yesterday but also like nothing ever happened. She doesn't miss or think about the Emperor much anymore. After sharing tea, Ruyi asks Rong Pei to bring more fresh tea. When Rong Pei returns, Ruyi has already passed away peacefully, sitting next to her green plum blossom tree – a gift from Qianlong years ago when he first became Emperor, a tree she tried for years to revive but never could. Next to her is a letter to her son, Yongji. Heartbreakingly, Rong Pei takes her own life to follow her mistress in death.

Far away on his trip, Qianlong is informed that Ruyi has passed away from illness and that she had stopped taking medicine toward the end. When a consort dares to criticize Ruyi, Qianlong furiously orders her out, declaring that whatever happened between him and Ruyi is not anyone's place to comment on. Alone, he collapses onto his bed, thinking to himself, "Ruyi, why didn't you tell me? Why did you stop taking medicine? You were fine when I left."

When Qianlong returns to the palace, he hesitates before entering Yikun Palace. There, he meets Yongji, his only remaining child with Ruyi. Yongji asks if his mother is now truly free, and gives Qianlong the letter Ruyi wrote. In it, Ruyi tells her son not to be sad – dying was a way for her to leave everything behind and be free. Her two wishes for Yongji are to live well and to live freely, to not do anything he doesn't want to do. After reading the letter, Qianlong gives it back to Yongji to keep, as it was written by his mother. Unable to enter Ruyi's palace, Qianlong turns away.

Ruyi cutting off her half of the portrait (Ep. 86)

Here's where the drama absolutely destroys you: Qianlong discovers that Ruyi had a painting of them together as Emperor and Empress, but she had cut out her own portrait and burned it. Devastated, he goes to the palace painter and asks him to restore the painting to exactly how it was before. The painter apologizes and tells him it's an impossible task. When he painted it the first time, Qianlong and Ruyi had been very much in love – Qianlong had instinctively reached for her hand, and that emotion was reflected in the painting. Even if he wanted to, the painter wouldn't be able to paint the same painting again because that love no longer exists.

Hearing these words, Qianlong goes to the same terrace Ruyi visited on the day she died. As he overlooks the palace, he recalls the beautiful memories they shared. The last time they met, Ruyi had told him that their time had passed and they could no longer return to the past. Qianlong can't help but cry.

What happens next shocked me: Qianlong decrees that Ruyi should not be given the usual funeral ceremonies of a deceased Empress. Her death was reported without using the usual terminology befitting of an Empress, and he orders that she be removed from historical records and that paintings of her be destroyed. When the Dowager Empress confronts him about this, asking if he truly intends to depose the Empress, Qianlong explains that this time, it is Ruyi who isn't willing to be his Empress anymore. She committed a serious offense by cutting her hair, refused to take medicine when ill, and even ruined their painting together. Since the Dowager Empress herself had told him that Ruyi never cared about power, position, or glory, why should he force those things on her? Perhaps she wasn't meant to live in the palace. The Dowager Empress finally understands – Qianlong is giving Ruyi her freedom, the only way he knows how.

As she leaves, the Dowager Empress sees that Qianlong has been designing a palace of plum blossoms – green plum blossoms, Ruyi's favorite flower. She tells him, "What takes the most effort to eliminate is what is hardest to face. What you want to forget most is hardest to forget."

Nine years later, Qianlong sits in the palace of plum blossoms he designed, surrounded by plum blossom trees. Ruyi's green plum blossom tree sits right in front of him, still showing no signs of coming back to life. Eventually, the time comes to deal with Imperial Consort Ling (Wei Yanwan). It turns out that for all these years, she has been imprisoned in her palace, aged significantly, with almost all her hair turned white. She's been given a daily soup that inflicts hallucinations, but one day she realizes the soup has been replaced with poison, delivered under Qianlong's orders. She dies a slow and painful death, which, honestly, she completely deserves after being responsible for the deaths of Ruyi's son, daughter, and Yongqi.

Their hairs together in the box (Ep. 87)

The tree blossomed! (Ep. 87)

More years pass. Qianlong has retired and passed the throne to Yongyan (the Jiaqing Emperor). In the fourth year of Jiaqing's reign, Qianlong opens a box he has stored in the palace of plum blossoms. Inside are two treasured items: the handkerchief that Ruyi had embroidered for him when he first became Emperor, and the lock of hair she had cut when she essentially "divorced" him – he had picked it up and kept it all these years. Qianlong cuts off a lock of his own hair and places it in the box next to Ruyi's. While holding the box, he passes away. At the same time, Ruyi's green plum blossom tree finally blossoms. The last scene is of young Ruyi, from the day when Hongli wanted to select her as his primary wife – a reminder of the innocent love they once shared.

My interpretation of this ending is that it's not just about Ruyi and the emperor – it's about the impossibility of authentic love within systems of absolute power. The emperor genuinely loved Ruyi, and she genuinely loved him, but the palace system, with its jealousies, hierarchies, and demands, made their love unsustainable. The tragedy is that they both tried in their own ways – Ruyi by maintaining her integrity, the emperor by trying to balance his role with his feelings – but the system was always going to win.

What makes this ending so impactful is that it doesn't provide easy comfort. The emperor's grief and realization come too late. Ruyi doesn't get a happy ending; she gets peace, which is perhaps the best she could hope for. And we, the audience, are left with this profound sadness but also a deep appreciation for Ruyi's strength. She didn't win the palace game, but she didn't let it break her spirit either. She chose to leave on her own terms, with her dignity intact.

Unpacking the Deep Themes

Ruyi's Royal Love in the Palace is rich with themes that elevate it far beyond a typical palace drama. Let me break down some of the most significant ones:

The Corrupting Nature of Power: This is perhaps the most central theme. The drama shows us how power – specifically, absolute imperial power – corrupts everything it touches, even genuine love. The emperor starts as a young man who truly loves Ruyi and promises to always protect and trust her. But as he becomes more entrenched in his role, he becomes paranoid, easily manipulated, and ultimately incapable of the kind of vulnerability that real love requires. The throne doesn't just change him; it consumes him. The tragedy is that he can't see it happening until it's too late.

Female Solidarity vs. Female Competition: The drama explores both the beautiful friendships between women (Ruyi and Hailan's bond is one of the most touching relationships in the series) and the destructive rivalries. It doesn't shy away from showing how the harem system pits women against each other, forcing them to see each other as threats rather than allies. Yet it also shows moments of genuine sisterhood – women protecting each other, sacrificing for each other, finding strength in each other. The contrast between characters like Hailan (who chooses loyalty to Ruyi over personal advancement) and characters like Wei Yanwan (who tramples everyone in her path) illustrates how the same oppressive system can bring out both the best and worst in people.

Integrity in an Impossible Situation: Ruyi's entire arc is about trying to maintain your true self in a place that demands you become someone else. She enters the palace determined to be authentic, to speak truthfully, to not play the typical games. And she suffers for it repeatedly. The drama asks: how much can you compromise before you lose yourself? And is it worth holding onto your integrity if it means losing everything else? Ruyi's answer, ultimately, is yes – she'd rather lose her position, her comfort, even her life than become someone she doesn't recognize. It's both inspiring and heartbreaking.

The Price of Unconditional Love: Ruyi loves the emperor unconditionally for most of the drama, forgiving him again and again, believing in the man he used to be, even as evidence mounts that he's changed. The drama doesn't necessarily celebrate this as heroic; instead, it shows the toll it takes on her. There's a sadness in watching someone give and give and give to someone who can't appreciate it. The theme here is complex – it's about the beauty of steadfast love, yes, but also about the importance of knowing when to walk away, when forgiveness becomes self-destruction.

Generational Cycles and the Harem System: The drama brilliantly shows how the harem system perpetuates itself. Women who were once victims become perpetrators. The Empress Dowager, who suffered in her own time, becomes someone who inflicts suffering on the next generation. Characters like Empress Fuca, who starts with good intentions, becomes twisted by jealousy because the system gives her no other path to fulfillment. The drama suggests that the real villain isn't any individual person – it's the institution itself that forces people into these roles.

A Closer Look at the Unforgettable Characters

The characters in Ruyi are complex, flawed, and achingly human. Let me dive deep into some of the key players:

Ulanara Ruyi (played by Zhou Xun)

Ruyi is hands-down one of my favorite female protagonists ever, and Zhou Xun's performance is absolutely phenomenal. What makes Ruyi special is that she's not your typical strong female lead. She's not a fighter in the traditional sense – she doesn't scheme, she doesn't plot elaborate revenges, she doesn't claw her way to the top. Instead, her strength lies in her integrity, her refusal to become something she's not, even when it would be easier.

Zhou Xun brings such depth to this character. Her voice is incredibly soothing and calming, which perfectly captures Ruyi's gentle nature. But there's also steel underneath that gentleness. Watch Ruyi's eyes in any scene where she's being unjustly accused or when someone she loves is in danger – you can see the fire there, even when she's speaking softly.

What broke my heart about Ruyi is how she loves so completely. She enters the palace believing in her love with the emperor, trusting that their bond is strong enough to survive anything. And we watch as that trust is betrayed over and over – not through one big dramatic moment, but through a thousand small cuts. There's a scene midway through the series where Ruyi is in the Cold Palace, suffering from the cold and isolation, and she still finds ways to smile, to take care of the servants around her, to maintain her dignity. Zhou Xun plays these scenes with such quiet grace that I found myself crying without even realizing it.

Ruyi's arc from hopeful young woman to empress to finally someone who chooses herself is masterfully portrayed. By the end, when she cuts her hair and severs ties with the emperor, it feels both shocking and inevitable. Zhou Xun makes you feel every ounce of Ruyi's pain, exhaustion, and ultimate liberation.

The Qianlong Emperor/Hongli (played by Wallace Huo)

Let me be clear: I absolutely HATE Qianlong by the end of this drama. But Wallace Huo's performance? Absolutely incredible. And that's what makes it so devastating – you can see exactly how and why this man transforms from someone who genuinely loved Ruyi to someone who destroys her.

Young Hongli is charming, protective, and deeply in love. He fights against his father and the Empress Dowager to keep Ruyi by his side. He promises to always trust her. Wallace Huo plays these early scenes with such sincerity that you truly believe this love will conquer all. There's this beautiful scene where young Hongli and Qingying are under a pavilion during rain, and he promises her that he'll never let anyone hurt her – Wallace Huo's eyes are full of such genuine emotion that you can't help but believe him.

But then, slowly, we watch him change. It's not sudden – it's gradual, which makes it more horrifying. As emperor, he becomes more suspicious, more prideful, more willing to believe court gossip over the woman who's stood by him for decades. Wallace Huo brilliantly captures this deterioration. You can see the moments when the emperor's paranoia wins over Hongli's love. There's a scene where Ruyi tries to explain something to him, and you can literally see in his face the moment he chooses to doubt her instead of trust her. It's chilling.

What's fascinating about Wallace Huo's performance is that he never plays the emperor as purely villainous. Even when he's being absolutely terrible to Ruyi, you can see the conflict in him, the remnants of the love he once felt. This makes it more tragic because you realize he's not incapable of love – he's just become someone for whom power and pride matter more than love.

Apparently, Wallace Huo cried when he read the script because he realized what a horrible person Qianlong becomes, and honestly, that makes me respect him even more for bringing such nuance to this character. The emperor isn't a monster – he's a man who makes terrible choices and realizes too late what he's lost. Wallace Huo's performance in the final episodes, when the emperor finally understands what he's done, is absolutely gutting.

Keliyete Hailan/Noble Consort Yu (played by Janice Chang)

Hailan is genuinely one of the most beautiful characters I've ever encountered in any drama. She's Ruyi's ride-or-die, and their friendship is the anchor that keeps Ruyi going through the darkest times.

Hailan starts as a poor embroidery lady from a Mongolian clan who is accidentally assaulted by the emperor (he was drunk and entered the wrong room). This traumatic event leaves her humiliated and ostracized, but Ruyi helps her gain status and respect. From that moment on, Hailan is completely devoted to Ruyi – not in a subservient way, but out of genuine love and gratitude.

What I love about Hailan is that she's willing to be morally gray for Ruyi. She's kind-hearted by nature, but she'll scheme, manipulate, and destroy anyone who threatens her "sister." There's a scene where Hailan literally seduces the emperor to help get Ruyi out of the Cold Palace, sacrificing her own comfort for Ruyi's freedom. And when she gives birth to a son and says, "Sister, I've given birth to a son for both of us," I completely lost it. That line captures everything about their relationship – they're not just friends, they're soulmates in the truest sense.

Janice Chang plays Hailan with such warmth and fierce loyalty that every scene between her and Ruyi feels genuine. Their friendship is honestly more romantic and devoted than many actual romance plots. Hailan is the person Ruyi should have ended up with, honestly.

Wei Yanwan/Imperial Consort Ling (played by Li Chun)

If you've seen Story of Yanxi Palace, you need to forget everything you know about Wei Yingluo because Wei Yanwan is a completely different character. In Ruyi, Yanwan is one of the most frustrating villains I've ever watched because she's not even clever – she's just persistent and manipulative, and somehow that's enough.

Yanwan starts as a noble lady who falls from grace after her father's corruption is exposed. She becomes a servant in the palace and develops an intense grudge against basically everyone, especially Ruyi. What makes her infuriating is how she constantly plays the victim, justifying her evil actions by talking about her tragic past or the mistreatment she received. But the drama makes it clear that her motivations are really just greed and jealousy.

What's terrifying about Yanwan is how effectively she manipulates the emperor. She's not particularly smart, but she knows how to weaponize his paranoia and pride. She whispers poison in his ear, plants seeds of doubt about Ruyi, and plays the role of the devoted, suffering concubine perfectly. Li Chun plays her with this sickly sweet fakeness that makes your skin crawl – you can see the calculation behind every tear, every trembling voice.

The worst part is that Yanwan actually succeeds for a long time. She becomes Imperial Consort Ling and wields enormous power. Watching her win while Ruyi suffers is genuinely painful. But there's something satisfying about knowing that even in her victory, Yanwan never achieves what she truly wants – the emperor's genuine love and trust. He uses her, but he never loves her the way he loved Ruyi.

Empress Fuca/Langhua (played by Dong Jie)

Empress Fuca is one of the most tragic characters in the series because she's not inherently evil – she's a product of her circumstances. Born into the powerful Fuca clan, she's raised to be the perfect wife and empress. She does everything right according to the rules, but it's never enough because the emperor doesn't love her. He respects her, appreciates her efficiency, but his heart belongs to Ruyi.

That jealousy eats away at her until she becomes twisted and cruel. Dong Jie's performance brilliantly captures this transformation. Early on, you can see Langhua trying to be gracious, trying to accept her position. But gradually, the resentment builds. There are scenes where you can see her literally trembling with suppressed rage when the emperor shows favor to Ruyi.

What makes Empress Fuca tragic is that her scheming ultimately destroys her own happiness. Her sons die, her daughter is married off to Mongolia (essentially exiled), and in her final moments, she realizes that all her fear and envy led to losing everything she actually cared about. The scene where she dies, understanding too late what her choices cost her, is both devastating and a bit satisfying. She's not a villain in the way Yanwan is – she's a victim of the system who became a perpetrator.

Why I Loved It (And Why It Destroyed Me)

Ruyi's Royal Love in the Palace is not an easy watch. It's 87 episodes of slow-burn tragedy, and there were times I wanted to scream at my screen or throw something at the emperor's stupid face. But it's also one of the most emotionally powerful, beautifully crafted dramas I've ever experienced, and here's why:

The Cinematography and Aesthetics Are Breathtaking: Every single frame of this drama looks like a classical Chinese painting. The cinematography is absolutely stunning – the way they use light and shadow, the composition of scenes, the gorgeous palace settings. The costumes are exquisite, with incredible attention to historical detail. I became obsessed with the elaborate Manchu hairstyles and those beautiful nail guards. The visual beauty of the show makes the emotional ugliness of what's happening even more striking. There's something deeply poignant about watching betrayal and heartbreak unfold in such a beautiful setting.

Zhou Xun's Voice and Performance: I mentioned this before, but I have to emphasize it again – Zhou Xun's voice is incredible. It's soothing, calming, and perfectly captures Ruyi's gentle strength. There were times I would just close my eyes and listen to her speak because her voice has this quality that makes you feel safe, even in the most traumatic scenes. Her entire performance is a masterclass in subtle acting. She doesn't need big dramatic gestures; everything is in her eyes, her posture, the slight tremor in her voice when Ruyi is hurting but trying to maintain composure.

The Emotional Realism: This drama doesn't give you easy answers or satisfying villain defeats. Bad people win sometimes. Good people suffer unjustly. Love dies even when both people once wanted it to survive. That realism is brutal, but it's also what makes the drama so powerful. I've never watched anything that captured the slow death of a relationship quite like this. It's not about one big betrayal – it's about a thousand small moments where you choose pride over vulnerability, suspicion over trust, power over love.

The Friendship Between Ruyi and Hailan: In a drama full of heartbreak, the one consistently beautiful thing is the friendship between Ruyi and Hailan. Their scenes together are the only times you can fully relax and smile. They support each other, sacrifice for each other, and genuinely love each other. In many ways, this relationship is more romantic and devoted than the actual romance. That famous line "Sister, I've given birth to a son for both of us" still makes me cry just thinking about it.

It Respects Your Intelligence: This drama doesn't hold your hand or spell everything out. It trusts that you're paying attention, that you understand the significance of small gestures and subtle changes. The character development is gradual and realistic. You have to really watch and think about what's happening, which makes it more rewarding when you catch all the layers and symbolism.

The Ending, Despite Destroying Me, Is Perfect: I ugly-cried through the entire final episode. Like, we're talking full-on sobbing, tissues everywhere, questioning my life choices kind of crying. But the ending is exactly what it needed to be. It doesn't give you false comfort or a last-minute happy ending that would feel cheap. Instead, it gives you catharsis – Ruyi finally chooses herself, the emperor finally understands what he's lost, and we're left with this profound sense of tragedy but also completion. The final image of young Ruyi and young Hongli, full of hope and love, is absolutely gutting but also beautiful.

It Made Me Feel Everything: This drama put me through the emotional wringer. I laughed (not often, but there are some genuinely funny moments, especially early on), I cried (oh god, I cried so much), I raged at the screen, I felt my heart break, I felt hope, I felt despair. That's the mark of truly great storytelling – when it can make you feel the full spectrum of human emotion.

Personal Takeaways

Watching Ruyi's Royal Love in the Palace was more than just entertainment – it was an experience that left me with some profound lessons:

Love Alone Isn't Always Enough: This is probably the hardest lesson from the drama. Ruyi and the emperor genuinely loved each other, but love couldn't survive the toxic environment of the palace, the emperor's paranoia, or the constant external pressure. The drama taught me that while love is important, it needs other things to survive – trust, communication, mutual respect, and sometimes just a healthy environment. You can love someone with everything you have, but if the circumstances are wrong or if the other person isn't willing to fight for that love, it will die. That's a painful realization, but an important one.

Know When to Walk Away: For most of the drama, Ruyi forgives the emperor again and again, believing in the man he used to be even as he continuously disappoints her. It's only in the end that she finally says "enough" and chooses herself. Watching her journey taught me that there's a difference between steadfast love and self-destruction. Sometimes the most loving thing you can do for yourself is to walk away from someone who keeps hurting you, even if you still care about them.

Your Integrity Is Your Own: One of the things I admired most about Ruyi is that she never becomes someone she's not, even when it would be easier. She refuses to play the typical palace games, to scheme and backstab like everyone else. Yes, she suffers for it, but she also maintains her sense of self. In a world that constantly pressures you to compromise your values, Ruyi's determination to stay true to herself is inspiring. The drama reminded me that you have to live with yourself at the end of the day, and that's more important than winning by becoming someone you'd hate.

Power Corrupts, Absolutely: The transformation of Hongli from loving partner to paranoid emperor is a perfect illustration of how power changes people. It's not that he became evil – it's that he became someone for whom power and pride mattered more than human connection. This made me think about how we all have to be careful about what we prioritize in life, because once you start valuing the wrong things, it's a slippery slope.

Sometimes the Villain Is the System: While there are definitely individual villains in Ruyi (looking at you, Wei Yanwan), the real villain is the harem system itself that creates these impossible situations. It forces women to compete for one man's attention, it gives one person absolute power over everyone else, it punishes authenticity and rewards manipulation. The drama made me think about how many of our problems aren't really about individual bad actors, but about systems that incentivize bad behavior.

Your Story Matters: In the end, Ruyi writes down her own story, ensuring that her truth is preserved even if the emperor rewrites history. There's something powerful about that – about insisting that your experience matters, that your perspective deserves to be heard. It reminded me that our stories have value, that our truths deserve to be told, even if the world tries to erase them.

Final Verdict & Recommendation

Let me be completely honest with you: Ruyi's Royal Love in the Palace is not for everyone. If you're looking for a feel-good romance with a happy ending, this is absolutely NOT the drama for you. If you need your dramas to move quickly with constant action and plot twists, you'll probably get frustrated with the deliberate, slow-burn pacing. And if you can't handle watching good people suffer while bad people sometimes win, this will break your heart in ways you're not prepared for.

But if you're willing to commit to 87 episodes of slow-burn tragedy, if you appreciate character-driven storytelling that prioritizes emotional depth over plot gimmicks, if you want to experience one of the most beautifully crafted, heartbreakingly realistic portrayals of love's deterioration ever put to screen – then Ruyi's Royal Love in the Palace is an absolute must-watch.

This drama is best suited for viewers who love historical dramas, palace intrigue with substance, and stories that don't shy away from the darker, more painful aspects of human relationships. If you enjoyed dramas like Empresses in the Palace or appreciate complex character studies, you'll find a lot to love here. Fans of Zhou Xun will get to see her deliver what might be the performance of her career – her portrayal of Ruyi is subtle, nuanced, and absolutely devastating. Wallace Huo's transformation from loving Hongli to paranoid Qianlong is equally masterful, even if it makes you want to throw things at your screen.

I'm giving this drama a 9/10, but with major caveats. It's a perfect 9 for what it's trying to be – a tragic, realistic portrayal of how power corrupts love, how the palace system destroys humanity, and how even the deepest connections can wither under constant pressure. The Emperor ragebaited me a little too much for a 10. The production values are impeccable (seriously, every frame is gorgeous), the acting is phenomenal across the board, the writing is intelligent and doesn't insult your intelligence, and the emotional impact is profound.

Here's my recommendation: have a LARGE box of tissues ready. Like, I'm talking multiple boxes. You will ugly cry. You will sob. There will be moments where you need to pause the episode and collect yourself. I cried so much during the final episodes that I literally gave myself a headache. But those tears were earned – they weren't manipulative or cheap. They came from watching characters I'd grown to love over 87 episodes face the consequences of their choices and the cruelty of their circumstances.

Also, be prepared for the pacing. The first half of the drama is slower and focuses on building relationships and establishing the world. It's worth it because it makes the second half hit so much harder, but you need patience. Some viewers recommend stopping around the time Ruyi becomes Empress and pretending she lived happily ever after if you can't handle tragedy. Personally, I think you HAVE to watch until the end – yes, the second half is brutal, but the ending provides closure and catharsis that makes the journey worthwhile.

If you're coming to Ruyi after watching Story of Yanxi Palace, know that these are fundamentally different dramas even though they're set in the same time period with some of the same historical figures. Yanxi is about a powerhouse fighting her way to the top and winning. Ruyi is about a woman who refuses to compromise her integrity even when it costs her everything. Yanxi is empowering and fun. Ruyi is devastating and profound. Both are excellent, but they're not comparable.

One more thing: this drama will change how you think about love, relationships, and power. It's not just entertainment – it's an experience that will stay with you long after you finish. Months later, I still think about Ruyi's quiet strength, about that scene where she cuts her hair, about the plum blossom tree finally blooming. I still get emotional thinking about Hailan's loyalty or the emperor's too-late realization of what he lost. That's the mark of truly great storytelling.

So, should you watch Ruyi's Royal Love in the Palace? If you're prepared for an emotional marathon, if you value depth and realism over easy answers, if you want to experience one of the best-acted, most beautifully shot, most emotionally resonant dramas in recent memory – then absolutely yes. Just go in with your eyes open, knowing that this is a tragedy in the classical sense. It's Romeo and Juliet, it's Hamlet – it's epic, it's devastating, and it's absolutely worth experiencing.

Fair warning though: you might need a palate cleanser after finishing. I immediately rewatched some comedy dramas because I needed something light and fluffy to recover from the emotional devastation. But I have zero regrets. Ruyi's Royal Love in the Palace is a masterpiece, and I'm so glad I experienced it, even if it broke my heart into a million pieces.

Final Rating: 9/10

Have you watched Ruyi's Royal Love in the Palace?

• Yes, and I loved it!
• Yes, but it wasn't for me
• No, but it's on my watchlist
• No, and I'm not interested

About the Author: I'm Jophy Lin, a high school senior and researcher. I blog about a variety of topics, such as STEM research, competitions, shows, and my experiences in the scientific community. If you’re interested in research tips, competition insights, drama reviews, personal reflections on STEM opportunities, and other related topics, subscribe to my newsletter to stay updated!