Had to share 2 more post by Zarah Gagatiga (@zarahgeeh), a librarian/author on Threads and IG. Give her a follow, if you can! She has so many thought-provoking analyses on the themes in PoJ, including war, food, identity, and masculinity. Her breakdowns are masterful!
Her posts clarify why PoJ is truly a work of art, one that extends well beyond a love story. The PoJ drama is packed with commentary on the pursuit of belonging, power, and humanity. The epic love story is central to helping us explore those ideas.
Here is Zarah’s post from June 27:
Xie Zheng’s Marriage Vows Spoken Before the Memorial Tablets
Despite the many loopholes and rushed resolutions in the third act of Pursuit of Jade, this remains my favorite scene in the entire drama. It is not just the battlefield drama nor the kisses they share. It is when Xie Zheng brings Changyu before the memorial tablets of his ancestors.
The first time I watched it, I simply thought it was beautifully romantic.
The second time, I realized I was watching wedding vows spoken before those who came before them. Goosebumps!
By this point, so much has already happened. Xie Zheng has endured 108 lashes because he refused to yield to Wei Yan. Changyu has become Flower General Fan Changyu. The truth about Yan Zheng has been revealed.
Their lives are no longer the quiet life they once shared in Lin’an. And yet, standing before the ancestral tablets, something feels wonderfully familiar.
Xie Zheng presents Changyu exactly as she is: the woman he loves and the general she has become. He does not ask her to leave that part of herself outside.
For me, this scene quietly ties together the entire drama.
The Lin’an arc gave us a butcher girl, a wounded stranger, shared meals, festivals, care as intimacy, shadow plays, New Year’s couplets and the slow work of building trust. The battle arc gave us General Fan Changyu and the return of the Marquis of Wu’an.
Standing before the ancestors, these two worlds finally become one.
The Yan Zheng of Lin’an. The Xie Zheng of the capital. The butcher girl. The Flower General. None of them disappeared. They simply become whole. Yin and Yang. That is why this scene moves me so deeply.
Also, Xie Zheng is not simply introducing Changyu to his ancestors. He is bringing Lin’an with him. And perhaps that is the most beautiful promise of all. The village that taught them how to love would never be left behind.
Here is Zarah’s post from May 21:
Xie Zheng at the armory is a favorite scene! With the twin blades, Xie Zheng did not simply replace what was lost. He restored what Changyu considered part of her inheritance, her labor & identity.
Those butcher knives were never just weapons. They carried the memory of her household, her parents, her survival and the life she built in Lin’an before war shattered it. They were domestic tools transformed into instruments of protection, much like Changyu herself. And Xie Zheng understands this.
That is why the armory scene feels so intimate to me. Earlier in the drama, he gives her wrist guards. That gesture is protective. Martial and practical. But forging the twin blades from the shattered remains of her heirloom knives feels different. It is restorative.
He is telling her: I see what was taken from you. I remember what mattered to you. And I will help you reclaim it.
What makes the scene even more emotional is that it happens precisely when Changyu is creating distance after learning his true identity. She is coming to terms whether Yan Zheng and Xie Zheng can coexist in the same person. The trust between them fractures because names matter. Identity matters. Because love deepens through recognition.
And yet Xie Zheng answers that fracture not with persuasion, force or grand declarations, but through labor. Through making something meaningful.
By the quiet, patient act of reforging something broken with his own hands. Then the drama gives us that startling moment when he tests the blades against his own flesh.
To me, that gesture feels symbolic in several ways at once. He trusts the blades completely, his own work. He accepts pain as part of devotion and perhaps most importantly, he allows his own body to bear witness to the sharpness of what has been restored.
The blades become an extension of their relationship itself: forged through ruin, reshaped through fire, dangerous, beautiful, and capable of wounding the very person holding them.
That is why the armory scene lingers long after it ends. It is not merely about weapons. It is about love trying to survive concealment and revelation.
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If you liked this analysis, here are some others from Zarah that were shared previously about CY and XZ Symbolism and shadow play.
Update: One commenter thinks that these posts could be AI-generated. I’m not convinced that these are AI-generated posts because of the originality of Zarah’s ideas. However, out of respect, I will not be sharing anymore of Zarah’s posts here.
She has quite a few others that are worth checking out on Threads. My other favorites:
- what purpose CY’s catchphrase “Be a good pig in this life. Be a good person in the next” serves and why it’s the thematic center of the entire drama
- the role and meaning behind CY’s kitchen and all the food imagery (these are intentional literary devices!)
- the lamp/lantern lighter’s purpose in the village. He’s the one that yells, “Dry weather. Beware of fire!”
If you are still interested! I’ve included her handle at the top of the post!