Ifa

Fresh out of university, Shang Zhi Tao steps into the cutthroat world of advertising and immediately finds herself under the watchful eye of Luan Nian, a boss whose favorite way of motivating her seems to be telling her to quit. What begins as an antagonistic workplace dynamic slowly turns into attraction, then a relationship, then a cycle of love, hurt, separation, and reconciliation. Years later, fate brings them together again, with Zhi Tao living a quieter life back home and Luan Nian still carrying the unfinished business of their past.

On paper, The Early Spring has all the ingredients for an addictive romance. Two capable but emotionally complicated adults, an unequal workplace dynamic, undeniable sexual tension, old wounds, misunderstandings, and a second chance at love. In practice, however, there are plenty of layers on screen, but the story rarely takes the time to examine what is actually between them.

The attraction between Zhi Tao and Luan Nian is obvious from the beginning. In fact, perhaps too obvious. They are burning for each other, and once they cross that line, it becomes almost impossible for them to stay away from each other. The physical chemistry is probably the most convincing part of their relationship. For a Chinese drama constrained by censorship, the intimacy scenes are surprisingly effective at creating heat without actually crossing the line. Fans understandably had plenty to scream about. The problem is that the emotional chemistry never quite catches up.

Zhi Tao's attraction is easy enough to understand. She is drawn to Luan Nian's looks almost immediately, and after their first night together, it is clear that the physical attraction has a very strong hold on her. Luan Nian is more difficult to read. The drama tells us that his curiosity and interest in her gradually grow, but it does not show enough of the journey. One moment he is this rude, intimidating boss, and the next he is deliberately waiting to drive this new employee home. Later, we learn that he worried when she got lost in the mountains, was touched when she saved him, and gradually became emotionally invested in her. Those pieces are there, but the connective tissue is missing. It makes their romance feel less like falling in love and more like falling into bed, then figuring out the feelings afterward.

This is especially unfortunate because Luan Nian is potentially the more interesting character. He is arrogant, condescending, rude, capable, well connected, and seemingly experienced with women. Yet underneath that intimidating exterior is someone who apparently does not actually date around and is surprisingly inexperienced when it comes to real emotional intimacy. He can be the knight in shining armor one moment, helping with investments, finances, career problems, and all sorts of practical matters, then turn around and say something so cruel that I wanted to reach through the screen and confiscate his mouth. And yes, Jing Bo Ran is a huge part of why any of this works.

Jing Bo Ran does not simply play Luan Nian. He becomes Luan Nian. The arrogance, the condescension, the quiet jealousy, the intimidating boss energy, and especially that ridiculous amount of masculine charisma are all there. He somehow manages to make a man who says the worst possible thing at the worst possible moment look devastatingly attractive while doing it. That is a dangerous skill.

His wardrobe was another visual treat. Considering Jing Bo Ran's reputation as a fashionista, it was hardly surprising that many of Luan Nian's clothes, accessories, and shoes came from his own wardrobe. Most of the looks worked beautifully for the character, although there were a few details I would have happily edited out. His presence alone explains a significant portion of my willingness to keep watching. Unfortunately, even Jing Bo Ran's face could not completely redeem Luan Nian for me.

There is a difference between a flawed character and a character who repeatedly crosses the line into being unpleasant. Luan Nian's mouth gets him into trouble far too often, and some of the things he says to Zhi Tao are genuinely degrading. The worst comes when he lashes out and essentially reduces her to being cheap, obedient, young, inexperienced, docile, and whatever else he can throw at her in anger. Those words are especially cruel because they hit directly at insecurities she already carries. He is her talented, powerful boss while she is the inexperienced newcomer trying to prove herself. His words reinforce every fear she already has about how he sees her and the imbalance between them. What frustrated me even more was how quickly Zhi Tao forgave him.

Their relationship becomes a strange loop of intimacy, conflict, breakup, reconciliation, intimacy, conflict, and another reconciliation. At first, the push and pull is entertaining. Eventually, it becomes exhausting. The drama seemed to be rage-baiting me into asking the same question over and over again: why are these two still together?

Zhi Tao is not innocent in this dynamic either. She is actually a surprisingly complicated and sometimes hypocritical character. From the beginning, she is presented as career driven and determined to put her work first. Yet she quickly gives in to Luan Nian despite knowing the company has rules against office relationships and despite the obvious power imbalance between them. She knows she is playing with fire, and Luan Nian is standing there enthusiastically adding gasoline.

She is not a completely passive woman. She knows Luan Nian cannot get enough of her, and she knows exactly how to push his jealousy buttons. She can handle him better than most people can. But when it comes to him, she repeatedly sacrifices the boundaries she seems to value everywhere else. That contradiction could have made her character fascinating if the drama had explored it more deeply. Instead, it often feels like Zhi Tao simply cannot resist the Luke allure.

Every reconciliation seems to follow a familiar choreography. He gets close, touches her, stares closely at her face, the tension rises, and suddenly we are back to physical intimacy. At some point, I started wondering whether their relationship had any other language. The drama tells me they love each other, but it rarely gives me enough emotional evidence to actually feel it.

Their relationship is also oddly ambiguous. They move back and forth between situationship and relationship for so long that I sometimes felt the drama itself was unsure what exactly they were. Given the nature of their relationship in the novel and the restrictions of Chinese drama censorship, I cannot help wondering whether this was simply a messy adaptation. If the writers intentionally wanted to preserve that ambiguity, I wish they had used it to explore the emotional confusion rather than mainly turning it into another source of sexual tension.

Sun Qian's performance as Zhi Tao was a mixed bag for me. I have enjoyed her in other roles, and she does well with Zhi Tao's happier, innocent, hardworking, and more passive moments. However, the heavier emotional scenes did not always land. Her crying scenes in particular often amounted to a few tears and a hand partially covering her face. Her fights and breakups with Luan Nian were serviceable, but rarely devastating. The biggest disappointment was Sun Yuan Zhu's death.

Yuan Zhu is presented as someone who has a significant place in Zhi Tao's life, so I expected his death to leave a substantial emotional scar. Instead, the grief felt strangely brief. I understand that people grieve differently, but I simply could not feel the weight of the loss from Zhi Tao. The following episode immediately moving into her promotion made the whole thing feel even more bizarre.

I also found Yuan Zhu's death unnecessary. Liu Xiao Bei did a wonderful job portraying him, especially the character's hidden struggles, quiet affection, longing for family, and depression. I genuinely felt sorry for him and understood the pain underneath his calm exterior. That made his ending feel even more frustrating because the drama did not seem interested in giving his death the emotional space it deserved.

Afterward, the grief mostly disappeared, with Sun Yu being the one person whose pain I could really feel. Even Luan Nian suddenly going from being jealous of Yuan Zhu to talking about how he was a wonderful person and how he should thank him felt almost comical. If the purpose was to give Yuan Zhu closure or follow the novel, then the drama needed to build toward that ending properly. Otherwise, simply allowing him to move on from Zhi Tao and acknowledge that he could not have her would have been more meaningful.

The drama's symbolism, however, is something I appreciated. There is clearly more thought behind the visual language than the actual storytelling sometimes suggests. Jing Bo Ran mentioned that Luan Nian's early outfits were more buttoned up, often closed with a scarf or tie, representing how guarded he was. As he becomes closer to Zhi Tao, the clothes gradually open up. There are also recurring symbols involving the typewriter, fish tank, and other elements associated with control and barriers. These details give the drama an additional layer that I wish the writing had matched.

Visually, The Early Spring is generally beautiful. The medium contrast, soft color palette, slight grain, camera angles, and settings create a polished and easy-on-the-eyes aesthetic. When the story stays in China, the drama looks particularly good. Then comes Phuket.

The Phuket arc was where both the visual quality and editing started to fall apart for me. The studio shooting was painfully obvious, and the editing became increasingly choppy. For such a short storyline involving Alex's resignation, employee scouting, and its consequences, the company trip to Phuket felt unnecessary. The same plot could have happened in Beijing or somewhere else in China without losing anything important. If the production really wanted Phuket, then they needed to either commit to the location properly or smooth the editing. As presented, it sometimes felt less like a meaningful story setting and more like an excuse to manufacture another intimate scene. There are several other scenes like this where I found myself wondering, "Why are we here?"

The scene with Zhi Tao and Kitty reporting their work in Donny's hotel room simply ends without proper continuation. There are also various continuity issues and abrupt transitions that made me wonder whether scenes had been cut or rearranged. If episode cuts were responsible, the remaining scenes needed to be chosen more carefully. If they were not, then the writing and editing have some explaining to do. Either way, the result is the same: the narrative often feels jumpy when it should feel seamless.

And then we arrive at the grand ultimate breakup, the arc that fans had been waiting for. Unfortunately, this was another letdown.

I expected the breakup to feel like the culmination of everything that had been building between them. Instead, the reason felt like yet another misunderstanding, enough for a major sulk but not quite enough to convince me that this was truly the end. Zhi Tao never really felt like she exploded after years of accumulated hurt. Given how often she had already swallowed Luan Nian's behavior, the breakup almost felt like the drama simply pressed the reset button.

Luan Nian's devastation afterward was also underwhelming. He calls Zhi Tao's inactive number, apologizes, begs her to come back, and generally behaves like someone who has just discovered that actions have consequences. Yet when people tell him to say those things to her face, he refuses because she has cut him off.

When they reunite, Zhi Tao staying cold toward him makes perfect sense. What does not make sense to me is how Luan Nian chooses to pursue her. He goes to her parents and repeatedly forces his way into her home. I know many viewers will find this romantic, but I found it intrusive. There is no meaningful evolution in his approach. He does not seem to learn how to communicate better, respect boundaries, or rebuild trust. Instead, he simply resumes the same old routine and hopes proximity will do the emotional work for him. It feels less like pursuing her and more like playing house until she remembers she still loves him. And she does.

That is perhaps my biggest frustration with the ending. Zhi Tao's character does not seem to have grown much either. She tries to be cold, but the moment Luan Nian gets close enough, the attraction takes over again. Sun Qian herself mentioned in an interview that Zhi Tao was initially drawn to Luan Nian because of his looks and their physical intimacy, and honestly, the drama reflects that very clearly. Perhaps too clearly.

The ending then tries to patch everything up by finally giving us Luan Nian's perspective. We learn more about his first impression of Zhi Tao, when he fell for her, and why he gave her certain things. These explanations provide some useful context, but I wish we had gotten them earlier. Keeping Luan Nian mysterious can work, but mystery needs enough breadcrumbs for the audience to understand the character. Otherwise, he spends most of the drama looking like a walking red flag, only for the finale to say, "Actually, he was just bad at dating." That is not quite the same thing as character development.

The L necklace was another moment that completely missed me. I understand why viewers might find it romantic, especially with the symbolism of the L representing love and tying back to the beginning of their relationship. But after watching the entire drama, my brain could not stop interpreting it as Luan Nian putting a collar on Zhi Tao. It felt restrictive rather than romantic, which is probably not the reaction the scene was aiming for.

Ultimately, the ending feels more like a leap of faith than genuine growth or closure. The drama does not convincingly show that Luan Nian has overcome his arrogance and inability to communicate, nor that Zhi Tao has learned to establish boundaries, communicate openly, or compromise. They simply choose each other again.

Oddly enough, I still appreciate that The Early Spring does not completely sugarcoat them. Luan Nian and Zhi Tao are messy, contradictory, insecure people, and people like them absolutely exist in real life. Their relationship is toxic in ways that feel recognizably human. My problem is not that they are flawed. My problem is that the drama introduces all these flaws and then rarely digs deep enough into them.

The Early Spring started with the kind of fluttery excitement that makes you understand why people become obsessed with a couple. It had the looks, the chemistry, the fashion, the tension, and Jing Bo Ran being Jing Bo Ran. But somewhere along the way, the story became a loop of sexual intimacy, fights, breakups, makeups, and another round of the same emotional problems. What was initially addictive eventually became exhausting.

Still, one thing refuses to leave me even after the credits roll: the OST. Liu Yuning and Li Changgeng's songs are beautiful, memorable, and probably more emotionally consistent than the relationship itself. I especially enjoyed how certain songs became almost like emotional signposts. The moment a particular OST started playing, I already knew what kind of scene was coming. Sometimes the music understood the characters better than the script did.

In the end, what lingers is Jing Bo Ran's face, a handful of beautiful visual details, some genuinely memorable intimate moments, an OST that refuses to leave my head, and, unfortunately, my rage.