If you don’t try, how would you know?

“You need to come closer,” Miyue said, beckoning her first love, whom she had not seen in years. They are all so much older now. “I can’t see you clearly.”

Zixie hesitated, keeping his face neutral. “You can see me clearly even in your sleep.”

Miyue smiled uncertainly. “I don’t think I can even see myself clearly these days.”

That was one of the many moments in the Legend of Miyue show that laid bare life’s many truths; growing up changes you. Sometimes it’s good, sometimes you’re caught off guard by the person you’ve become.

I’ve finally finished watching all 81 episodes, and like all good stories, it leaves you breathless, changed, and looking at the world in a new light. I can go on and on about the brilliant characterisation, the beautiful sets, the intricate plot and many other things to try to convince you that it is a good show that is worth your time. But I’ve done enough of that, and it’s time to look back on the journey the show has brought me on.

(Spoiler alert!)

On Boldness

For once, ‘epic’ is not an exaggeration. The story began before Miyue was born, and it ended with the legacy she’s left behind – a much stronger Qin state that was the foundation for the first emperor of China to unite all states decades later.

Miyue’s defining character trait was her insistence to take life into her own hands; no matter what society says about people born into her station, or about what women should or should not do, she worked to live the way she wanted to, and did it without compromising her integrity and values. I admire her sense of agency, but what was more inspiring was how this made her a brilliant political tactician – her moves were unexpected and bold because she was not constrained by the need to conform.

“You are indeed smarter than me, but you cannot best me,” Miyue told Chulizi, the most senior and respected official in court, “because I can stake my life on a bet, and I can endure suffering.

“Even if I was born into a royal household, I was always bullied and grew up with nothing. I do not conform, and I do not hold bias. I can bet everything on one move, and I can forgive and forget with one smile. These, you cannot do.”

Her boldness came from her experience with failure and destitute, from knowing what could and could not be lost – material things could be lost and regained, intangible things like discipline, values and self-respect could never be lost. It reminded me of JK Rowling’s Harvard commencement speech, where she talked about how ‘rock bottom became the solid foundation’ on which she rebuilt her life:

“Failure gave me an inner security that I had never attained by passing examinations. Failure taught me things about myself that I could have learned no other way. … The knowledge that you have emerged wiser and stronger from setbacks means that you are, ever after, secure in your ability to survive.”

It’s one of the ironies in life that you are more well-positioned to win when you start by losing, because it makes you unafraid. I am very cautious by nature, and I am afraid of many things. But fear holds you back – and I am tired of it. Miyue’s boldness and courage inspire me, and I want to be more like her.

On Ambition

Another irony in Miyue’s life is that her only wish was to have a happy family, and yet she ended up achieving things that the most ambitious men of her era could only dream of. While married to the King of Qin, she became inspired by a greater purpose – a quest to unite the people across the warring states and to bring about peace. To that end, she sacrificed many easy ways out, many chances to have the simple family life that she longed for.

At one point in the story, she had to choose between her first love, who had stayed single for her all these while and had promised her a home in her motherland; and going back into danger to risk everything to fix a broken nation-state, to help fulfill the dream of uniting the land.

I knew what she would choose, of course. But it doesn’t make the choice less relatable – it feels like a choice that many of us have to make at some point in life, and for women in particular. A career is perhaps not quite comparable to a larger than life purpose such as uniting the land, but I can’t help drawing the parallel. Having achievements and a body of work to call your own outside of family is important to me, and even more so is the chance to become part of something bigger.

It is a very personal choice, but I cheered when she made the choice to go back to serve a larger purpose. If I ever need to make that choice, I wish only to have her courage.

On Family

Family is a complex concept in this show about royal families. So many of those ties are in name only, and so many of the bonds were between people who had no blood relations. But it was very clearly Miyue’s priority, and it was both her greatest strength and her greatest weakness. Her kindness and caring forged very strong bonds that saved her life time and again, but it also led to choices that undo her hard work and broke her heart.

Her family also often wanted different things – her brilliant mind often led her to choices that others could not understand or accept, and she often had to persuade them in different ways, or tried to marshal loyalty. She did it compassionately and without being manipulative, and it was enlightening and educational to watch.

Life is often about compromise, but it doesn’t always have to be. Like her favorite refrain,

“If you don’t try, how would you know?”

If

I haven’t been this inspired by a story in a while. It has been a brilliant ride – and one day I will build a story like this.

In the mean time, Miyue reminded me of a poem from my school days – ‘If’ by Rudyard Kipling. She may be a woman, but she has certainly embodied the spirit of this poem – and I can only work harder to do the same:

If you can keep your head when all about you

    Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,

If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,

    But make allowance for their doubting too;

If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,

    Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies,

Or being hated, don’t give way to hating,

    And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise:

If you can dream—and not make dreams your master;

    If you can think—and not make thoughts your aim;

If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster

    And treat those two impostors just the same;

If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken

    Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,

Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,

    And stoop and build ’em up with worn-out tools:

If you can make one heap of all your winnings

    And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,

And lose, and start again at your beginnings

    And never breathe a word about your loss;

If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew

    To serve your turn long after they are gone,

And so hold on when there is nothing in you

    Except the Will which says to them: ‘Hold on!’

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,

    Or walk with Kings—nor lose the common touch,

If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,

    If all men count with you, but none too much;

If you can fill the unforgiving minute

    With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,

Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,

    And—which is more—you’ll be a Man, my son!