Huayu: Starting with Xiang Yu, the Hegemon of Western Chu

The release date poster for "The Moon Over the Mountains" was released at 6 PM on a Friday.

The poster features Zhu Di's back in the center, clad in a dragon robe and wielding a long sword, amidst a vast landscape and heavy clouds pressing down on the horizon. In the lower left corner stands a young man, his profile turned to the side, his gaze fixed on the distance, his figure slender yet his back ramrod straight.

A line of text at the bottom of the poster:

It will premiere on CCTV-8 next Monday during prime time.

The news caused an uproar among history drama enthusiasts across the internet, as if it were Chinese New Year.

The number of people who "want to watch" on Douban exceeded 120,000 within 48 hours.

The first episode airs promptly at 8 PM on Monday.

Chen Mo did not watch the premiere.

He sat in his apartment, put his phone on silent, and pulled out the pre-Qin historical materials that Luo Yifeng had mentioned last time, starting with "The Annals of Qin Shi Huang" in the Records of the Grand Historian.

He doesn't like watching his own shows. Every time he watches them, he can't help but find fault with them, and the more he watches, the more conflicted he feels. He'd rather not watch them at all.

But tens of millions of people across the country are watching.

The first episode opens in the first year of the Yongle reign, when Zhu Di has just ascended the throne. The court is in turmoil, and the Mongol cavalry is pressing in from the north, with internal and external troubles erupting at the same time.

Wang Xueqi's portrayal of Zhu Di stunned everyone in the very first court assembly scene. With just one glance, not a single official dared to raise their head, and the comments section was instantly flooded with "This is the real Emperor Yongle."

But what really caused an uproar among viewers was the ending of the first episode.

In the last three minutes of the film, the camera cuts to a dimly lit side room in a palace, where a seven or eight-year-old child sits cross-legged on a futon. On the table in front of him is an old copy of "Zhenguan Zhengyao" (Essentials of Governance in the Zhenguan Era). The candlelight casts his shadow on the wall, swaying gently.

A distant commotion could be heard outside the palace; there were eunuchs running and the clanging of armor.

The child looked up, listened for a while, didn't move, and then lowered his head to continue reading.

The door was pushed open, and an old eunuch walked in, his back hunched and his voice trembling.

"Your Highness, His Majesty has returned to the palace."

The child closed the book and stood up.

The camera slowly zooms in from the back of the figure to the side profile.

A face that still looked childish, with bright eyes, slightly pursed lips, and an expression that was neither happy nor nervous.

He spoke the last line of the entire series.

"understood."

The tone was flat.

There was no excitement, no elation, none of the joy a seven or eight-year-old child would have upon hearing that their grandfather was coming home.

There was only a calm "I understand".

He exudes a composure beyond his years.

As the end credits rolled, "Zhu Zhanji - Chen Mo" appeared as the third name.

Three terms appeared on the trending searches within fifteen minutes.

The first one is "The Moon Shines Over the Mountains and Rivers" premiere.

The second one is "Wang Xueqi Zhu Di".

The third is "Chen Mo Zhu Zhanji".

These episodes didn't become an instant hit as expected upon their premiere.

The reason it trended on social media was simply because the production team was making normal promotional efforts.

After all, it's not a wish-fulfillment historical drama that focuses on a particular protagonist, but rather a historical drama based on historical context.

At the same time, the participation of popular celebrities is missing.

This show will be a slow burn.

But that is precisely why.

Viewers of this type of drama tend to focus their attention and discussion more on the actors' performances.

Whether an actor is good or bad in normal times will be magnified at this time.

Any shot that breaks the immersion of the audience will be criticized.

Fortunately, Wang Xueqi is a veteran actor who opened the show, and he effectively drew the audience into the drama.

In the third episode, the segment depicting the young Zhu Zhanji accompanying Zhu Di on his northern expedition officially begins.

The real test of Chen Mo's acting skills is just beginning.

If his appearance pulls the audience out of the story, then the play will undoubtedly be a failure.

However, Chen Mo's dedication to the drama paid off after it aired.

His portrayal of Zhu Zhanji was not out of place.

in contrast.

Highly praised.

When the scene at Juyong Pass aired, the re-dubbed line, "Grandpa, can we ever come back?" came through the television, trembling slightly, yet crystal clear.

The live chat exploded.

Episode 5, post-war morning, wilderness, empty shot.

As the young Zhu Zhanji walked alone across the desolate plains littered with arrows and tattered flags, that monologue began to resonate.

"I used to think that fighting a war was just about my grandfather leading a large army to charge in and drive the enemy away, and that's how we won. That's what the books said too. But the books didn't mention these things. They didn't mention that blood on the ground would freeze into ice, that flags would be trampled by horses' hooves if they fell into the mud, or that after winning, the people who should be happy wouldn't have the strength to be happy."

The voice was very soft and flat, without any sorrow or emotion.

A thirteen-year-old boy described death on the battlefield in the same tone he used to describe the weather.

The barrage of comments suddenly changed from a screen full of text to a large number of ellipses and periods.

Many people typed and then deleted, because they didn't know what to say.

Several seconds passed before the barrage of comments started to fill up again.

Why is his voice so flat? It's so flat that it makes people feel uneasy.

"Because he's still a child, he doesn't know he should be sad. He's just saying what he saw, and that's the scariest thing."

"Chen Mo, how did you do that? At twenty-three, you portrayed the feeling of a thirteen-year-old who 'hasn't learned sadness yet'?"

On the night the fifth episode aired, the top trending topic on blogs was "Zhu Zhanji's post-war monologue".

Episode 8.

The scenes featuring the young Zhu Zhanji reached their climax.

During Zhu Di's northern expedition, he was ambushed by Mongol cavalry. His vanguard was cut off and his central army was surrounded. In the most critical moment, Zhu Di handed Zhu Zhanji over to the captain of his personal guard and ordered him to take the imperial grandson and retreat south.

The moment Zhu Zhanji was carried onto the horse, he looked back once.

Smoke and dust billowed on the battlefield, and Zhu Di's figure on horseback grew smaller and smaller in the yellow sand.

Zhu Zhanji did not cry, shout, or struggle; he simply looked back.

Then he spoke, his voice barely audible due to the sound of horses' hooves and the wind.

"Put me down."

The captain of the guard ignored him and spurred his horse to accelerate.

"Put me down."

The second time, it was a bit bigger, carrying a ruthlessness that even he himself wasn't aware of.

The captain of the guard still didn't stop.

Zhu Zhanji reached out to grab the sword at the waist of the captain of his personal guard.

A thirteen-year-old boy, on the bumpy back of a horse, reaches out to grab the sword of an adult general.

He couldn't reach it; his fingers touched the handle but slipped away. He reached for it again, his fingernails gripping the end of the handle, and he pulled hard.

The captain of the guard grabbed his wrist.

"Your Highness! His Majesty's decree—"

"I'm not leaving."

The third time, the sound suddenly became even.

It's not a compromise, but a peace that comes after a decision has been made.

"Grandpa's there, I'm not leaving."

The density of the bullet comments was so high that they completely blocked the screen.

"The moment he reached for the knife, my hand clenched tightly."

"The phrase 'I won't leave as long as Grandpa' was said was delivered too calmly. The first two times it was said with urgency, but the third time it was suddenly calm. That kind of calmness was more unbearable than urgency."

That evening, four of the top ten trending topics on blogs were related to "Mountains and Rivers Under the Bright Moon".

"Zhu Zhanji snatching the knife" ranks first.

Chen Mo's phone lit up briefly on the desk.

It was a message from Wang Bao.

"Brother Mo, I just watched episode eight."

A voice message followed, which Chen Mo clicked to listen to.

Wang Bao's voice in the recording carried an excitement he had never heard before.

"Brother Mo, I don't know what nice words to say, I just think... I think the boy you played was amazing!"

The audio ended there.

After listening, Chen Mo stared at the screen for two seconds.

He replied with a message.

"How's filming going on your end?"

Wang Bao replied instantly.

"Great! Director Zhao said I've improved a lot!"

"That's good. Stop watching TV and go to bed early."

"Okay, Mo-ge!"

Chen Mo put down his phone and continued reading "Records of the Grand Historian".

Turning to the third page of the Annals of Qin Shi Huang, he picked up a pen and drew a line next to a passage.

"At the age of thirteen, King Zhuangxiang died, and Zheng succeeded him as King of Qin."

Thirteen years old.

She turned thirteen again.

Zhu Zhanji went to the battlefield with his grandfather at the age of thirteen.

Ying Zheng ascended to the throne of Qin at the age of thirteen.

They were all teenagers, and they were bearing those things at an age when they shouldn't have had to.

Chen Mo stared at the line of text for a long time, then picked up a pen and left a question in the blank space next to it.

"Is he afraid?"

Then he closed the book.