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This review may contain spoilers
An Exquisite Culinary Feast Paired with a Profound, Thought-Provoking Take on Political Ethos.
"Lower your head when ridiculed, tolerate grievances, and no one can defeat you." - Yao Zijin
Having just finished the show, I genuinely have to ask: how could anyone give this a score lower than 8.0?
Like, seriously? Sure, there are aspects that I found puzzling myself, but I don't think those shortcomings are enough to justify any score lower than 8.0, let alone a 5.0 or below—considering neither the narrative nor the production ever went off the rails. I understand that everyone is entitled to their own opinion, but sometimes it won't hurt if we try to be a bit more thoughtful and responsible on how we express them, since negative feedback can heavily discourage prospective viewers from giving a good show a chance if they are greeted with such unfavorable reviews.
Right off the bat, I want to shower this show with high praise for its brilliant execution in showcasing the rich, vast, and exquisite history of Chinese cuisine in a way that feels authentic and natural through the ever-rigorous culinary preparation and processing, capturing genuine craftsmanship while highlighting true artistry without relying on excessive artificial enhancement and explosive CGIs. This decision not only emphasizes the intricate and unstudied perfection of food making, but also showcases how impressively beautiful, mouthwatering, and satisfying the whole process is in general—which doesn't just boast the massive collection of Chinese culinary culture, but also tells a story of its rich history, heritage, and legacy.
Sadly, all good things must come to an end. One major element I greatly appreciated about this drama was its commitment to staying true to its title, Royal Feast, by maintaining a clear, sharp focus on the Imperial Food Services—highlighting their daily work, conflicts, and trivialities. Frankly, they were my primary source of entertainment and delight. I thoroughly enjoyed their dynamics and was particularly looking forward to their cooking showdowns, which regrettably turned out to be an absolute disaster, because despite the impeccable buildup maintained from the start leading up to the climax, the writers progressively undermined them at highly critical junctures, reducing them to mere instruments used for plot convenience.
Imagine the frustration of watching the very elements that made you excited and fully engrossed in a story getting repeatedly sabotaged into mere plot devices. It is deeply disappointing how high-stakes climaxes meant to showcase the chefs' culinary prowess were repeatedly ruined—and ultimately hijacked—by the writers' obsession with throne succession schemes. Watching the major culinary showdowns between the two rival teams of the Imperial Food Services get sidelined and reduced to such a wasteful conclusion was such an anticlimactic narrative choice that truly annoyed me. They could have easily allowed the culinary battles to finish before switching to the political subplot, granting the competitions their proper spotlight, but instead, they consistently ruined those moments right at their peak, rendering all the accumulated anticipation useless and leaving me in utter bewilderment.
For the record, the political schemes and conspiracies were nicely laid out, intricately woven together, and brilliantly executed. So, I could never discredit or undermine the writing for that. My only frustration is how they were constantly used to interrupt the culinary competitions—aside from that, I have no other complaints.
Another aspect that caused widespread dissatisfaction among critics is the show's light enforcement of punishment. While I completely understand the frustration regarding the lenient consequences imposed on the antagonists for their misdeeds—and felt that same annoyance when major perpetrators repeatedly walked away unscathed and were granted multiple second chances—my perspective differs on one fundamental point: I choose to analyze "why" the writers made this creative choice in the first place. Because only after deeper reflection can anyone finally understand and see clearly that these decisions were not writing deficiencies, but rather the writer's true intention and deliberate thematic choices to drive the drama's foundation toward a heartwarming, lighthearted, and wholesome direction that naturally fosters leniency, forbearance, understanding, and forgiveness—one that relentlessly promotes harmony across familial bonds and relationships, ultimately proving that this forgiving approach isn't just a writing oversight, but the very foundational philosophy driving the entire narrative from the very beginning.
This philosophy is equally evident in the portrayal of the three emperors' reigns throughout the show. It illustrates how the narrative places paramount importance on familial ties, to the extent that even severe transgressions are forgiven in hopes that leniency and a second chance will inspire redemption. However paradoxical this approach may seem, careful evaluation reveals it to be the true bedrock of the drama's premise. Viewing the narrative through this lens was an eye-opener that finally allowed me to understand the writer's underlying vision for this story.
"I considered you as my good friend. Yet, you only cared about Yin Ziping who's good for nothing. What's so great about her?" - Su Yue Hua
The same logic explains why I didn't harbor much animosity toward the main antagonists, Su Yue Hua and You Yi Fan, until the latter half of the show and instead held out hope for a redemption arc—far from excusing their despicable acts, I recognized that they were fundamentally good individuals driven down a crooked path by relentless mistreatment and exploitation. It was precisely this moral ambiguity—standing right on the border between good and evil—that made me eagerly anticipate how their character arcs would unfold.
Su Yue Hua, in particular, was a character I held deep faith in at first—partly out of my fondness and adoration for Wang Churan, but primarily because her early actions and intentions were rooted in doing good and causing no harm. She left an indelible mark on me through her consistent projection of a complex blend of desire, longing, gentle melancholy, affection, regret, and a faint hint of jealousy all at once whenever she looked at Yao Zijin and Yin Ziping together. It broke my heart thinking about how she might never have gone down the evil path if only she had a figure like Yao Zijin right beside her. It may sound like I am justifying her actions, but whenever I look back at her confrontation scene with Yao Zijin, a wave of logic takes over, prompting multiple "what if" scenarios in my head. She is the perfect example of a character who was led astray because she tended to retreat rather than advance to show her determination and resolve to befriend Yao Zijin. This is also why I felt so much pity for her when she finally fully embraced her villainous turn, for she simply wasn't built to be evil. In the end, she really had no one to blame but herself. Personal bias for Wang Churan aside, Su Yue Hua is truly a character I was glad to see get a chance to turn over a new leaf, even if it took Matron Meng immense sacrifices to guide her back.
"When someone set a trap for a rat, why did you have to be the rat and get yourself caught in the trap?" - Yin Ziping
Meanwhile, my only regret regarding You Yi Fan's character is that his feelings for Yao Zijin weren't thoroughly explored. It makes sense, given that he is a man who values his convictions over love and affection. Still, he was a character with immense potential to be led down the right path if only Yao Zijin had shown him enough attention and guidance—after all, the story's ending proved he was redeemable.
The last baffling point I want to talk about is the "seduce, conquer, and run away" tactics Yao Zijin used to catch Zhu Zhanji's attention—especially since she claimed she never wanted to be tied to him in the first place.
She frustrates me so much! God knows how hard I tried, but I still couldn't understand her, to the point that I wanted to smack her in the head. I understand she refused his proposal because she wanted to continue pursuing her passion as a chef and didn't want to be caged in the Forbidden City, but my question is: why did she exert so much effort to catch Zhu Zhanji's attention, if she didn't want to be committed to him at all—knowing full well what the consequences would be if she succeeded. What's even crazier is that despite being forced into the Forbidden City, she was never tasked or required to interact with him at all—in fact, all of their initial interactions were out of her own free will. I have also considered every logical reason—like how she could have grown attached to him or even fallen in love with him, given that she was his designated princess consort back when they were younger. Yet, her true intentions remain a complete mystery to me. I refuse to believe that it wasn't intentional because despite looking meek and detached, she is in fact a highly intelligent, meticulous, and strategic person.
Ultimately, I deeply admire her wisdom and hold her moral principles in such high regard—with the sole exception of this specific tendency of hers. She is confusing and complicated as hell.
"Power should be exercised with caution. With that power, you should respect life. One doesn't gain respect from their birthrights. What makes your place in the world is your every word an action." Zhu Zhanji
Story - 9.0, Although my review focuses heavily on the drama's flaws, it was, on the contrary, an incredibly entertaining watch. The story’s ability to consistently pull its main plot together from start to finish greatly compensated for its shortcomings, delivering a seamless and well-grounded conclusion. What truly set this show apart was the flawless execution of its finale. It provides a lenient yet logical resolution that ties up every loose knot, inspiring deep reflection on the story's core message. Ultimately, this allowed me to fully appreciate its strengths and moral direction, leaving me with a genuine sense of warmth, comfort, and peace.
Acting/Cast - 9.5, This drama boasts a fantastic cast. Seeing so many familiar faces in the lead roles gave me immediate relief and assurance that I was in for a thrilling, enjoyable ride. The single detail that bothered me, however, was Wu Jinyan’s creepy, theatrical laugh, as it didn't entirely suit the tone of this drama the way it did in Story of Yanxi Palace. At times, it felt so jarring that it actually sent shivers down my spine, leaving me genuinely creeped out and wondering if her character had gone completely insane. Hahaha! Sorry, Wu Jinyan—I still love you a lot, though!
Music - 9.5, The soundtrack complemented the show remarkably well, but what I liked most was how it instantly invigorated and elevated the mood every time they played, taking the emotional impact of each scene to an even higher level.
Rewatch Value - 8.0, A rewatch-worthy drama for its fascinating culinary and political subplots, though not so much for the love story. I still feel baffled whenever I think back on Yao Zijin's "seduce, conquer, and run away" tactic.
Overall - 9.0, A drama that genuinely stood out to me for its culinary focus and political intrigue, though it was those very elements that kept it from earning a perfect score. The political subplots often felt ill-timed, repeatedly killing the momentum of the exciting culinary showdowns. Stress!! Hahaha!
IF you find my review helpful please let me know.
Having just finished the show, I genuinely have to ask: how could anyone give this a score lower than 8.0?
Like, seriously? Sure, there are aspects that I found puzzling myself, but I don't think those shortcomings are enough to justify any score lower than 8.0, let alone a 5.0 or below—considering neither the narrative nor the production ever went off the rails. I understand that everyone is entitled to their own opinion, but sometimes it won't hurt if we try to be a bit more thoughtful and responsible on how we express them, since negative feedback can heavily discourage prospective viewers from giving a good show a chance if they are greeted with such unfavorable reviews.
Right off the bat, I want to shower this show with high praise for its brilliant execution in showcasing the rich, vast, and exquisite history of Chinese cuisine in a way that feels authentic and natural through the ever-rigorous culinary preparation and processing, capturing genuine craftsmanship while highlighting true artistry without relying on excessive artificial enhancement and explosive CGIs. This decision not only emphasizes the intricate and unstudied perfection of food making, but also showcases how impressively beautiful, mouthwatering, and satisfying the whole process is in general—which doesn't just boast the massive collection of Chinese culinary culture, but also tells a story of its rich history, heritage, and legacy.
Sadly, all good things must come to an end. One major element I greatly appreciated about this drama was its commitment to staying true to its title, Royal Feast, by maintaining a clear, sharp focus on the Imperial Food Services—highlighting their daily work, conflicts, and trivialities. Frankly, they were my primary source of entertainment and delight. I thoroughly enjoyed their dynamics and was particularly looking forward to their cooking showdowns, which regrettably turned out to be an absolute disaster, because despite the impeccable buildup maintained from the start leading up to the climax, the writers progressively undermined them at highly critical junctures, reducing them to mere instruments used for plot convenience.
Imagine the frustration of watching the very elements that made you excited and fully engrossed in a story getting repeatedly sabotaged into mere plot devices. It is deeply disappointing how high-stakes climaxes meant to showcase the chefs' culinary prowess were repeatedly ruined—and ultimately hijacked—by the writers' obsession with throne succession schemes. Watching the major culinary showdowns between the two rival teams of the Imperial Food Services get sidelined and reduced to such a wasteful conclusion was such an anticlimactic narrative choice that truly annoyed me. They could have easily allowed the culinary battles to finish before switching to the political subplot, granting the competitions their proper spotlight, but instead, they consistently ruined those moments right at their peak, rendering all the accumulated anticipation useless and leaving me in utter bewilderment.
For the record, the political schemes and conspiracies were nicely laid out, intricately woven together, and brilliantly executed. So, I could never discredit or undermine the writing for that. My only frustration is how they were constantly used to interrupt the culinary competitions—aside from that, I have no other complaints.
Another aspect that caused widespread dissatisfaction among critics is the show's light enforcement of punishment. While I completely understand the frustration regarding the lenient consequences imposed on the antagonists for their misdeeds—and felt that same annoyance when major perpetrators repeatedly walked away unscathed and were granted multiple second chances—my perspective differs on one fundamental point: I choose to analyze "why" the writers made this creative choice in the first place. Because only after deeper reflection can anyone finally understand and see clearly that these decisions were not writing deficiencies, but rather the writer's true intention and deliberate thematic choices to drive the drama's foundation toward a heartwarming, lighthearted, and wholesome direction that naturally fosters leniency, forbearance, understanding, and forgiveness—one that relentlessly promotes harmony across familial bonds and relationships, ultimately proving that this forgiving approach isn't just a writing oversight, but the very foundational philosophy driving the entire narrative from the very beginning.
This philosophy is equally evident in the portrayal of the three emperors' reigns throughout the show. It illustrates how the narrative places paramount importance on familial ties, to the extent that even severe transgressions are forgiven in hopes that leniency and a second chance will inspire redemption. However paradoxical this approach may seem, careful evaluation reveals it to be the true bedrock of the drama's premise. Viewing the narrative through this lens was an eye-opener that finally allowed me to understand the writer's underlying vision for this story.
"I considered you as my good friend. Yet, you only cared about Yin Ziping who's good for nothing. What's so great about her?" - Su Yue Hua
The same logic explains why I didn't harbor much animosity toward the main antagonists, Su Yue Hua and You Yi Fan, until the latter half of the show and instead held out hope for a redemption arc—far from excusing their despicable acts, I recognized that they were fundamentally good individuals driven down a crooked path by relentless mistreatment and exploitation. It was precisely this moral ambiguity—standing right on the border between good and evil—that made me eagerly anticipate how their character arcs would unfold.
Su Yue Hua, in particular, was a character I held deep faith in at first—partly out of my fondness and adoration for Wang Churan, but primarily because her early actions and intentions were rooted in doing good and causing no harm. She left an indelible mark on me through her consistent projection of a complex blend of desire, longing, gentle melancholy, affection, regret, and a faint hint of jealousy all at once whenever she looked at Yao Zijin and Yin Ziping together. It broke my heart thinking about how she might never have gone down the evil path if only she had a figure like Yao Zijin right beside her. It may sound like I am justifying her actions, but whenever I look back at her confrontation scene with Yao Zijin, a wave of logic takes over, prompting multiple "what if" scenarios in my head. She is the perfect example of a character who was led astray because she tended to retreat rather than advance to show her determination and resolve to befriend Yao Zijin. This is also why I felt so much pity for her when she finally fully embraced her villainous turn, for she simply wasn't built to be evil. In the end, she really had no one to blame but herself. Personal bias for Wang Churan aside, Su Yue Hua is truly a character I was glad to see get a chance to turn over a new leaf, even if it took Matron Meng immense sacrifices to guide her back.
"When someone set a trap for a rat, why did you have to be the rat and get yourself caught in the trap?" - Yin Ziping
Meanwhile, my only regret regarding You Yi Fan's character is that his feelings for Yao Zijin weren't thoroughly explored. It makes sense, given that he is a man who values his convictions over love and affection. Still, he was a character with immense potential to be led down the right path if only Yao Zijin had shown him enough attention and guidance—after all, the story's ending proved he was redeemable.
The last baffling point I want to talk about is the "seduce, conquer, and run away" tactics Yao Zijin used to catch Zhu Zhanji's attention—especially since she claimed she never wanted to be tied to him in the first place.
She frustrates me so much! God knows how hard I tried, but I still couldn't understand her, to the point that I wanted to smack her in the head. I understand she refused his proposal because she wanted to continue pursuing her passion as a chef and didn't want to be caged in the Forbidden City, but my question is: why did she exert so much effort to catch Zhu Zhanji's attention, if she didn't want to be committed to him at all—knowing full well what the consequences would be if she succeeded. What's even crazier is that despite being forced into the Forbidden City, she was never tasked or required to interact with him at all—in fact, all of their initial interactions were out of her own free will. I have also considered every logical reason—like how she could have grown attached to him or even fallen in love with him, given that she was his designated princess consort back when they were younger. Yet, her true intentions remain a complete mystery to me. I refuse to believe that it wasn't intentional because despite looking meek and detached, she is in fact a highly intelligent, meticulous, and strategic person.
Ultimately, I deeply admire her wisdom and hold her moral principles in such high regard—with the sole exception of this specific tendency of hers. She is confusing and complicated as hell.
"Power should be exercised with caution. With that power, you should respect life. One doesn't gain respect from their birthrights. What makes your place in the world is your every word an action." Zhu Zhanji
Story - 9.0, Although my review focuses heavily on the drama's flaws, it was, on the contrary, an incredibly entertaining watch. The story’s ability to consistently pull its main plot together from start to finish greatly compensated for its shortcomings, delivering a seamless and well-grounded conclusion. What truly set this show apart was the flawless execution of its finale. It provides a lenient yet logical resolution that ties up every loose knot, inspiring deep reflection on the story's core message. Ultimately, this allowed me to fully appreciate its strengths and moral direction, leaving me with a genuine sense of warmth, comfort, and peace.
Acting/Cast - 9.5, This drama boasts a fantastic cast. Seeing so many familiar faces in the lead roles gave me immediate relief and assurance that I was in for a thrilling, enjoyable ride. The single detail that bothered me, however, was Wu Jinyan’s creepy, theatrical laugh, as it didn't entirely suit the tone of this drama the way it did in Story of Yanxi Palace. At times, it felt so jarring that it actually sent shivers down my spine, leaving me genuinely creeped out and wondering if her character had gone completely insane. Hahaha! Sorry, Wu Jinyan—I still love you a lot, though!
Music - 9.5, The soundtrack complemented the show remarkably well, but what I liked most was how it instantly invigorated and elevated the mood every time they played, taking the emotional impact of each scene to an even higher level.
Rewatch Value - 8.0, A rewatch-worthy drama for its fascinating culinary and political subplots, though not so much for the love story. I still feel baffled whenever I think back on Yao Zijin's "seduce, conquer, and run away" tactic.
Overall - 9.0, A drama that genuinely stood out to me for its culinary focus and political intrigue, though it was those very elements that kept it from earning a perfect score. The political subplots often felt ill-timed, repeatedly killing the momentum of the exciting culinary showdowns. Stress!! Hahaha!
IF you find my review helpful please let me know.
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