Set in a fictional imperial Chinese dynasty called the Da Yin, the Chinese web drama Pursuit of Jade (逐玉) has been a genuine streaming event in China and a runaway success elsewhere in the region. In Taiwan, where it has been dubbed by some media as the first true cultural phenomenon to emerge from China in 2026, it has topped the charts on platforms including Netflix, iQIYI, and WeTV.
Off screen, however, there has been an unexpected plot twist. One of the drama’s main characters, the military commander “Yan Zheng” — spoiler alert, he is secretly the Marquis of Wu’an — may be too soft for some stiff-jawed critics back in China.
On March 27, three days before the show’s finale, an official social media account operated by the People’s Liberation Army Daily (解放军報) voiced shock and awe at the drama’s emasculated visual aesthetic. Some of the characters, it said, were “excessively softened and deliberately refined, with some even wearing rouge and powder.”
Why did a media outlet operated by China’s powerful Central Military Commission (CMC), the command center of the country’s defense apparatus, feel the need to launch an amphibious assault on popular streaming content?
The problem was chiefly “Yan Zheng,” the nickname for the military general Xie Zheng, played by actor Zhang Linghe (張凌赫). General Xie should be the embodiment of boots-on-the-ground battlefield decisiveness. And yet, every time he appears on screen for a dramatic moment of courage, he is as impeccably made up as a K-pop star. Even deep into the slaughter of the battlefield, his skin is flawless.
This odd twist on battle readiness has earned this fictional military man the fond — or furious, depending on your preferences — nickname: “General Foundation” (粉底液将军).
For its part, the PLA Daily was not laughing. The drama had crossed the unseen battle line of military machismo. “Literary and artistic creation may certainly pursue aesthetic diversity,” wrote the PLA social account, “Junzhengping” (鈞正平), “but ‘beautifying’ the image of soldiers means losing not only authenticity, but also undermining the spirit of masculinity.”
For the People’s Liberation Army, “General Foundation” is more than just a pretty face. He is a dangerous image of military decadence and defacement just as the Party-run institution is buffeted by wave upon wave of scandals. Since Xi Jinping launched his sweeping anti-corruption campaign in 2012, the military has been a primary target. The crackdown reached the upper ranks of the PLA in 2023, when it brought down several senior commanders of China’s elite Rocket Force, the force responsible for China’s nuclear and conventional missile arsenal.”
More recently, a scandal has toppled Zhang Youxia (张又侠), the country’s most senior general, long known as a close ally of Xi Jinping. Under investigation for “serious violations of discipline and law,” Zhang is accused of undermining the “CMC chairman responsibility system” — suggesting serious breaches of the Party’s command structure. All told, the PLA’s culture of corruption has seriously damaged the institution’s authority and credibility. The fact that the “Junzhengping” account, which generally limits its posts to more important military matters, has goose-stepped into the aesthetics of streaming entertainment suggests even minor blemishes are regarded as an obstacle to the PLA’s efforts to save face.
The “Junzhengping” post clearly advocated for more muscular propaganda, as though the country’s defense depended upon it. “These rouge-and-powder ‘generals’ in period costume dramas cannot bear the social responsibility of cultivating masculine spirit,” it said.
China has never had a free creative environment. Under Chinese law, all television dramas must be reviewed by the National Radio and Television Administration before broadcast. Content touching on politics, the military, diplomacy, ethnicity, religion, and related areas must also obtain sign-off from the relevant authorities.
Whether costume romance dramas routinely pass through PLA review is unclear. What is clear is that since 2021, the Party has maintained specific lists of restrictions for all media, including a ban on so-called “effeminate” (娘炮), or niangpao, aesthetics — a term describing men whose appearance and mannerisms are deemed inconsistent with mainstream masculinity, and one considered highly vulgar and derogatory in Chinese.
“Is the invasion of Taiwan all sorted out already? I suppose there’s plenty of free time to be watching women’s historical romance dramas, huh?” —Comment to “Junzhengping” by a Chinese web user.
Elsewhere, the aptly named “Zhejiang Propaganda” (浙江宣傳), a social media account under the provincial propaganda office of Zhejiang, complained that programs like Pursuit of Jade might spoil the nation’s youth — that stories and images that “blatantly violate historical context” would have “an adverse impact on the aesthetic and cultural values of young people.” The account, which Hong Kong’s Ming Pao reported was founded by Zhejiang’s deputy ministry of propaganda, Wang Gang (王綱), expressed concern that “values are giving way to lookism” (价值观在向颜值观让步).
Following the PLA Daily social post, the “General Foundation” meme trended on Weibo for more than 24 hours, as furious fans offered return fire. “Is the invasion of Taiwan all sorted out already?” one user asked snidely. “I suppose there’s plenty of free time to be watching women’s historical romance dramas, huh?”
Some users noted, however, that China’s official broadcaster, China Central Television (CCTV), had actually praised Pursuit of Jade, and that Zhu Fenglian (朱鳳蓮), a spokesperson at the Taiwan Affairs Office, had commended the drama for “fully demonstrating that Chinese culture is the shared root and belonging of both sides of the strait.”
In the end, the post appeared to most effectively expose the PLA’s own sense of vulnerability and insecurity, conveyed poignantly in its closing appeal: “We call for more works filled with masculine spirit, so that this toughness and sense of responsibility can become the most solid foundation of the spirit of our era.”
