The Apothecary Diaries, episode 47

Rating: A

For the Shi clan, there is no possible happy – or even neutral – ending. At least two of its principle members knew that, accepted it, and so left the stage on their own terms. Meanwhile, the one who didn’t – and couldn’t – accept that falls in disgrace. In many ways it’s a very poetic climax to a storyline which encompasses more of what this series is, what this setting involves, than was apparent at first.

How tragic any of this is can be heavily debated, as there’s plenty of guilt to go around. Much of what went wrong can, to some degree, be traced back to the former Emperor, or perhaps even farther back to his mother, but the cause and effect relationships here are deeply intertwined. Shishou deserves at least some sympathy as a man whose heart was stolen by a woman every bit as much as Lakan’s was, but unlike Lakan, Shisou’s idol could not be satisfied with just him. Her ambitions were greater at first, and even when Shishou later offered her a way out, she couldn’t be content with that in the face of the shame that the Emperor she had pursued passed her over for her lady-in-waiting. She ultimately couldn’t accept, either, that Shishou merely loved her wholeheartedly; as much as he schemed to get her, he wasn’t scheming on that. And so her rage over her circumstances ultimately led her down the path to ruin.

But Shishou wasn’t an innocent, either. He was responsible for the building of the secret path, and at least partly for the expansion of the Rear Palace. (I’ll get back to this.) But he was torn between two priorities: his love for Shenmei and his love for his country. So he helped set up circumstances that would lead to one of two ends: either they would take over the country, or the rot within the Shi clan would be gathered and exposed, allowing the palace to be purified. Thus the Shi clan’s defeat, in a sense, still accomplished his goals, hence how he was able to die with a laugh.

Loulan understood all of this perfectly, and played it through to the very end. The rigged feifa gave her two options until the end: either it would kill Jinshi when he tried to take it from her and use it, or he would cooperate and thus allow her to bring what she felt she needed to do to conclusion. She was, in her way, as much a conniving manipulator as either of her parents were, and that she had some compassion for others – that she was making some effort to make sure not everyone died in this calamity – doesn’t change that. She cut Jinshi’s cheek as much to technically keep her promise to her mother as to insure that his underlings would be incensed, and she slyly used Maomao’s hairpin from Jinshi to try to protect Suirei. (Jinshi had to know what was really going on there, even if he’s not shown reacting to it.) Is it any wonder that Jinshi was fascinated enough by her to let her play out her final dance at the end, even as his guards prepared to gun her down?

The irony of her final dance cannot be overlooked, either. In the last episode of season 1, Maomao danced atop the walls of the Rear Palace (a veritable fortress) against the vista of the star-filled night sky in order to celebrate her biological parents. Here, Loulan is dancing atop a fortress against the vista of a start-filled night sky in tribute, in a way, to her parents as well. But where Maomao’s dance signified her parents coming together to move forward, Loulan’s dance signified the ending of a line and a release from all the scheming. No wonder she’s also smiling as she falls from the wall after being apparently-mortally shot; in that moment her expression is simultaneously both Loulan and Shisui

Let’s not forget what was said about the great expansion of the Rear Palace, either. The sheer size of it – 2,000 women and 1,000 eunuchs – boggled the mind initially, as that seemed excessive even for an institution designed to help the Emperor generate heirs. Even an explanation that it was expanded by the former Empress Dowager to get the former Emperor interested in women never seemed like sufficient justification. Here, finally, we find out why: the parallels occasionally made in the past between slavery and the Rear Palace weren’t idle ones. The Rear Palace is, literally, a replacement for slavery. Its upper-level courtesans may be effective hostages and playing pieces, but the lower-level ones, servants, and eunuchs are mostly a more dignified way to deal with those who might otherwise be sold off through less reputable means. The irony in that is deep as well.

Finally, we can’t forget Loulan’s very specific choice of words when making requests to Jinshi. Those comments definitely seem to further reinforce the use of the resurrection potion on the kids, as she knows that Jinshi will be bound by his assent.

The circumstances do allow at least a slight chance that Loulan might not be dead. As much as her death would hurt Maomao, though, finding a way out of it is not necessary and arguably not even desirable. This was an ending on her own terms, one that had as much dignity as the situation would allow, and hoping for more is unreasonable. Kudos to the series for executing this plot through to the end, allowing next week’s finale to play clean-up.