时光靖好，岁月长苏

If they were the only two people in a world without time, he would take Jingyan to Langzhou. He would let Jingyan carry him to the lake, the water so clear you can see your own memories on the bottom. He would tell Jingyan how he likes to be touched. He would let Jingyan show him. At night, when fireflies stream out of summer grass, he would wrap his tattered pennant of a body around Jingyan’s. He would cradle Jingyan’s hands in his own and say, this is all of me now, unarmed, unbound, nothing here but the remains of our long-lost promise to see every mountain and water together, and for thirteen years the duty of righting an impossible wrong kept Mei Changsu alive but it was the thought of your impossible hands that kept Lin Shu alive inside him and I, in this nonexistent time and place, under these dim winged lights, am no longer cursed with a detached heart and false tongue when I chant Jingyan, Jingyan, Jingyan…

skin-glanced, in the flesh | 《睽革》肉体版 faux four hole bare spine sewn binding | 伪四眼裸脊线装 104 pages | 104页

(the post editor malfunctioned and after a series of unfortunate events the original ask post is gone, so I had to make this screenshot mockup of the ask, sorry)

Thank you for prodding me to finish up a draft that's been sitting there for an inexplicably long time.

I will divide puns into exact homophones, which are pronounced exactly the same, and near homophones, which consist of the same phonemes with different tones. Though exact homophones are much punnier in speech, Internet jokes rely heavily upon text input and most people use phonetic-based Chinese input systems, meaning their autocompletes will often suggest near homophones and people will use them if they're funny enough.

To make this slightly statistically sound and not just me making up random puns, I grabbed 700k viewer comments from the years NiF was available on Youku, 2015 to 2020 (courtesy of danmu box). These danmu/弹幕 comments are timed to a particular moment in the show so they splash across the screen while you watch.

Let's start with the heavy hitters:

Xie Yu/谢玉 is an exact homophone of xièyù/泄欲, literally discharging desire, which means satisfying one’s lust or orgasming. Xie Yu's name occurs 5000+ times in the comments versus almost 900 orgasms.

Prince Yu/誉王 is an exact homophone of yùwáng/欲王, meaning prince of lust, and a near homophone, of yùwàng/欲望, which means desire (or the chaotic evil penis). The latter is far more likely to be autocompleted and shows up 1500+ times versus 200+ for the prince of lust.

Yùjīn/豫津 is a near homophone of yùjìn, 欲禁, or forbidden lust/abstinence. Because bath towel/浴巾 is an exact homophone and again far more likely to come up first in autocomplete, people overwhelmingly refer to him as the towel. In the comments, bath towel is used nearly 7000 times, 10x more frequently than his actual name, which is made up of two not-super-common characters.

Mei Changsu is often addressed as Su-xiong/苏兄 by Jingrui and Yujin in canon, which is an exact homophone of sūxiōng/酥胸, a literary term for supple and beautiful breasts that might have the same old-fashioned connotation as heaving bosom does in English. I'm going to call him gorgeous tits because he does bear a striking resemblance to the azure tit:

I've seen Chinese MCS fans note this resemblance before, but these birds don't have titillating names in Chinese so you can have this bonus joke for English speakers. Anyways, gorgeous tits are invoked in nearly 6000 comments versus almost 1200 for Su-xiong itself.

Now you can enjoy one of the comments from the above screenshot exclaiming over these names:

浴巾裹着酥胸，泄欲，这都什么什么 a bath towel (yujin) wrapped around gorgeous tits (su-xiong), orgasming (xie yu), what is all this

And the following off-color joke retold many times throughout the episodes:

Why is Mei Changsu called Su-xiong and not Mei-xiong? Because he has gorgeous tits, not tiny ones (Méi-xiōng/梅兄 is an exact homophone of flat-chested/没胸).

Here are some rarer-but-still-good puns:

Gōng Yǔ/宫羽 is a near homophone of gòngyù/共浴, bathing together (cue viewer comments about how she and bath towel belong with each other).

Níhuáng/霓凰 is a near homophone of nǐhuáng/你黄, slang meaning you’re perverted.

The emperor lives in Yǎngjū Hall/养居殿, a near homophone of penis hall since yángjù/阳具 is the yang implement, though it's most popularly punned with pigpen (I wrote about this here if you scroll to the end).

The travelogue Mei Changsu wrote annotations in, 翔地记, is an exact homophone of xiángdìjì/降帝记, or records of subduing the emperor (which I can only interpret as MCS’s Dom Diaries on how to conquer Jingyan).

To conclude, here’s a stacked area chart of the four horsemen of punny NiF names and how often they're spammed:

The trouble with collecting merch is it’s difficult to stop once you start. This Jingsu enamel pin is by the prolific 长风万里, who is responsible for some of the most iconic NiF pins (check out the weidian store for a partial selection). Like many fan-made pins, it’s a re-rendering of a scene from canon, in this case episode 52 [x], where Jingsu look on as thunder and wind portend the storm brewing on the horizon after Princess Liyang has agreed to present Xie Yu’s confessed crimes at the Emperor’s banquet.

The pin emphasizes the storm in both design (bamboo leaves scattering in the wind) and name: 风雨同守, loosely enduring the tempest together. As for why the image has been transposed onto a tattered scroll, the pin maker said the inspiration came from rubbings/拓印 and elaborated some more:

Personally, I think of this as an excavated artwork (with the surface damaged in its old age) that was created out of Jingyan’s longing. As if Jingsu actually existed in history and will live on for a long, long time. 我自己把这个当做是一件出土的画作（年岁久远画面有所破损），是景琰怀念所做。就好像历史上真有他们的存在，靖苏真的来日方长。

As he lay down at the site of his every nightmare, he decided what he missed the most was waking to Jingyan’s steady breaths and arms.

After the coronation, the new Emperor readily granted Minister Su’s request to spend the rest of his numbered days at the northern border. He swallowed the herb meant for fifteen years ago, said farewell to the few still left, swung the reins toward the dirt road by the pavilion and never looked back.

Who would have thought Jingyan would go before him?

He should know by now fate did not grant favors. But this wound was fresh, and he was surprised he could still feel. His old life—petitions and protocol, ambitious plans half done—bled away in trickles as he rode north, and by the time he was past the last Liang village, he had thoroughly let go of his worries for the country and thought only of holding and being held.

New habits formed in the gashing void. Every time his mind circled back to Jingyan, he rubbed the two lengths of hair looped tight around his finger and each other. The late Emperor, too ill to speak by then, had plucked the grayer strand from his own pillow and dropped it on his palm.

When the route became too steep for his living companion, he found a fallen branch Jingyan would have liked and climbed Meiling’s ridges for the last time. He could see everything from here, and distance was no more.

They say mountains are for the benevolent and waters are for the intelligent, Jingyan once said, but I am neither, and I choose—

《梅岭千秋》 (roughly Meiling Undying) is a 2016 fanbook with art by Yiran/壹染 and published by 溯年组, depicting scenes and characters from Nirvana in Fire. I had to get my hands on a copy after falling in love with the art.

Yiran paints with ink brushes and watercolor on xuan paper/宣纸, a famous traditional Chinese paper made from the qingtan/青檀 tree especially suitable for calligraphy and painting. Xuan paper is divided into raw/生宣 and processed/熟宣 types, the former more absorbent with a tendency for ink to run free, and the latter processed with alum to be more controllable for precision ink work (the two types of traditional painting, evocative xieyi/写意 and realistic gongbi/工笔, are often split along raw and processed xuan in their choice of medium).

Raw xuan is particularly unforgiving to beginners, but Yiran is a master of her craft, able to achieve both precise lines and textures as well as the misty landscapes so characteristic of Chinese watercolor on this paper (see her Lofter for her process and more art). She often paints an entire series of pieces on a traditional accordion booklet/经折装, a single long sheet of paper folded on itself many times, as she did for this project (photos from her Weibo, which also has more art):

The publisher took care to replicate the original booklet of pieces as closely as possible in the final product. Beneath the outer paper jacket is a cover made of woven Song brocade/宋锦, with 38 accordion-folded A5 pages inside. The pages are textured imitation xuan paper, printed with a lacquered black ink that glows under the light:

One side of the folded pages is mostly landscapes and scenes inspired by canon: Mei Changsu and Lin Chen in Jiangzuo beside flowers in bloom, an all-smiles Lin Shu embracing Jingyan in the before times. The other is a series of individual character portraits rendered with their attire from the show, their faces referencing the actors’s features but not overly imitative. There’s something revelatory in the way she paints a dreamy, ephemeral scene in one panel and then renders Jingyan’s robes with dramatic, almost impasto-like textures:

Each portrait is also paired with a poem written by 海月. Jingyan’s is

关山诏递寒雨遥，兵戈交鸣追风啸。 赤心不随江河改，铁血独守情义昭。

A possible translation:

Drifting bitter rain in mountains edict-sent, weapons clash as galloping horses scream. A pure heart enduring through shifting tides, alone in his courage, loyalty brought to light at last.

I’ll end with my favorite piece, Chief Mei and His Majesty beholding their mountains and waters:

Hua Mulan/花木兰 is unquestionably the most famous woman warrior of ancient China. But how much of her legend actually happened is of debate, while there were many historical women generals who were more similar to Mu Nihuang in NiF. Here are a few of the most notable, in chronological order:

Fu Hao/妇好 (Hao is her family name; before the Qin Dynasty, family names for women were at the end, reversed from the current name order; Fu means married woman now, but could have referred to priestess then), the earliest woman military leader on record, lived during the Shang Dynasty and died in 1200 BCE. Because her time period predated paper, what we know about her came from oracle bone script and the hundreds of weapons in her tomb, which is a burial rite afforded only to generals. As consort to King Wu Ding/武丁, she led an army of 13,000 to many successful military campaigns against the Shang’s enemies. She was not only a general and high priestess, two of the most important roles in that time era, but also owned her own land, which was extremely unusual for feudal women. After her death, the king made many sacrifices at her tomb in hopes of receiving her spiritual guidance to defeat invading enemies.

Mother Lü/吕母 (name unknown, so she is referred to as a mother of the Lü family) lived during the Western Han Dynasty in Langya Commandery and was the first woman rebel leader in Chinese history. After her son was executed for not punishing peasants who could not pay their taxes, she aided peasants under hard times by giving away her considerable family wealth while plotting revenge on the government. During this time, a consort kin to the Emperor had seized the throne and started his own Xin Dynasty/新朝 (literally New Dynasty), enacting many radical socialist reforms such as land redistribution and abolishing the slave trade. A series of natural disasters and poor implementation of the new policies led to great unrest and suffering among the peasant class. Commoners united around Mother Lü, and three years later, in 17 CE, she amassed thousands of loyal followers and declared herself the leader of the rebellion. They took the city, and she beheaded the county magistrate who had killed her son, sacrificing his head on her son’s tomb. As news of her successful rebellion spread, thousands more joined her even as the government attempted to quash her forces. Though she died from illness a year later, many in her army joined the Chimei Army/赤眉军 (literally red brows), a key force in the eventual downfall of the Xin Dynasty.

The most similar to Nihuang is probably Lady Xian/冼夫人, who lived in the 500s CE and served the Liang (the Liang of NiF is very loosely based on this dynasty), Chen, and Sui Dynasties. She was the daughter of a chieftain of a clan of the Li/俚 people and demonstrated great leadership and political acumen from a young age (women in her family could inherit command). She favored diplomatic solutions over fighting as much as possible and was always loyal to the reign, putting down local rebellions and eliminating corruption. Nihuang’s title of commandery princess/郡主 was also one of her titles, and as thanks for her bringing many minority peoples under unified rule, the Sui emperor gave much of modern-day Hainan to her command, much like Nihuang. She lived to around 90 and was given a posthumous name by the emperor as a sign of great respect. Hundreds of temples in the south were built in her honor, where she was deified and remains worshipped today as the Saintly Mother of Lingnan/岭南圣母.

One of many statues of Lady Xian.

Princess Pingyang/平阳公主 (personal name unknown) was the third daughter of the founding emperor of the Tang Dynasty. Her father was an aristocrat who decided to seize the opportunity during the chaos of the failing Sui Dynasty to raise an army in 617 CE, and she decided to help her father ascend to power. With remarkable leadership and recruitment power, she quickly recruited several Jianghu volunteer armies under her wing. More and more people joined as her reputation spread, such that she had seventy thousand under her command by the end in what was known as the Woman’s Army/娘子军. Her forces registered several victories before rendezvousing with her father’s forces to take Chang’an, which would become the capital of the new dynasty. She was given the title of Princess Pingyang and higher honors than her sisters as a sign of her father’s gratitude for her help in starting his new dynasty.

After the coup of Chang’an, there was nothing in recorded history about her until her funeral. A rite officer had objected to burying her with military honors instead of a princess’s rites, but her father and emperor said she always fought at the vanguard of her army, so there was nothing wrong with full military honors. She is the only woman in recorded Chinese feudal history to be interred by soldiers.

Qin Liangyu/秦良玉 (1574-1648) was born to a civil bureaucrat in the late Ming Dynasty who believed in educating women, and she became skilled at riding, archery, and poetry. She looked up to Lady Xian and Princess Pingyang from a young age, and told her father that she would equal their accomplishments if she had military command (倘使女儿得掌兵柄，应不输平阳公主和冼夫人). She was married to a local county commissioner who often led armies to quash invasions from the neighboring Manchu Jin Dynasty, and he gave her command of part of his army. When he died in prison being falsely accused of wrongdoing, she assumed his role, as their son was still young. She defeated numerous Jin invasions across the country, and the Emperor gave her the title of Marquis in recognition of her actions in defending the homeland. She’s famous for being the only female general recorded alongside men in the official histories of her dynasty.

A portrait of Qin Liangyu.

So, what made these women leaders of armies while most women throughout Chinese history couldn’t even dream of such a thing? Fu Hao lived a very long time ago, well before the later Confucian system where wives are supposed to obey their husbands and serve at home. For the others, there are some common factors: growing up in a well-to-do family that educated daughters, demonstrated interest and skill in fighting and leadership, being around military power (true of a vast majority of male generals as well, of course), and some kind of unusual circumstance that gave them power, whether a husband or father allowing them to do so or an environment of unrest that gave them an opportunity.

The warrior princess trope exists for a reason: it’s the highborn daughters and wives of generals who are most likely to get the opportunity to command an army. And their stories are more well-known than, say, women like Chen Shuozhen/陈硕真, who came from destitute upbringings and called herself the emperor while leading a peasant rebellion that eventually failed. All history is biased, and contemporary Chinese history seems to favor those who quashed rebellions and promoted national unity.

Given these historical examples, it’s not so outlandish to imagine that Nihuang was educated by her father in the military arts from a young age, showed great fighting and leadership ability, and was then able to take command when he died during a crisis and while her brother Mu Qing was still too young. She is an exception in a field of men, as these historical women were. And like these women, she was very much still subjected to the expectations and boundaries of feudal women.

In some sense, show Nihuang is an ideal female Confucian role model. She is the perfect daughter and older sister who assumed the family mantle when there are no capable men, doing her duty under a corrupt regime for twelve years, with the implication that she will give up at least some of her responsibilities to Mu Qing when he’s ready. She is the perfect widow who never strayed from her arranged marriage pact. And she is the perfect potential wife who shed all of her commanding aura whenever she interacted with post-identity reveal Mei Changsu—she may question him but she will always listen to him, in the end. Her first scene is of a warrior princess soundly defeating men, and her last big scene is her telling Feiliu she wants to obey her Lin Shu-gege.

This is a far cry from book Nihuang, who moved on in those twelve years and found someone else to love. To be clear, there is nothing intrinsically wrong with characters displaying period-typical attitudes, and other female characters in canon, like Consort Jing, are compelling without being hidebound by tradition. Within the microcosm of NiF the show, the change to Nihuang’s character may only be due to the creators wanting to increase her screen time in a male-heavy show and add a tragic romance element that they felt the book lacked. But media doesn’t exist in a vacuum, and after some prominent examples of one-sided adaptation changes in recent years—The Rise of Phoenixes taking a book starring a strong female character and dramatically increasing the male character’s screen time for the actor to get top billing, Serenade of Peaceful Joy adapting a book centered around a princess’s futile rebellion against feudal expectations for women into a show about her loving daddy emperor trying to do the best for his daughter by keeping her in line, even Reset giving some of the main female character’s heroic moments in the book to the main male character in the show, to name a few—was Nihuang’s change from book to show a harbinger of the male-dominated Chinese television industry increasingly reshaping strong female characters into what they think women should be like?

This issue of media depictions affects historical women generals, as well. For various reasons, they haven’t gotten their big breaks in modern mainstream media, and the most famous Chinese female warriors remain Mulan and a few other very fictionalized characters who have had popular shows and movies made about their lives. A Qin Liangyu drama was supposed to be filmed a few years ago but never aired, and as typical of this era of Chinese media censorship, no one seems to know what happened to it.