Huge arguments broke out before its conclusion — did the Luo Xiaohei comic really run into problems?
“Readers hoped to see richer, more dimensional character development, while the creators were more focused on fleshing out a complex and diverse IP worldview.”
After eight years of serialization, Lanxi Zhen, written by MTJJ and primarily illustrated by Sun Gua, has finally come to an end.
As one of the rare original commercial serialized comics in China that still enjoys a high level of discussion, the conclusion of Lanxi Zhen has drawn considerable attention. However, unlike the nearly unanimous acclaim for The Legend of Luo Xiaohei TV series and its first feature film, the comic's ending sparked enormous controversy — even triggering, in turn, criticism of the animated content.
Some complain the ending was rushed, some question whether the protagonist's characterization fell apart, while others insist this is an above-average work whose reputation slipped simply because audiences projected overly high expectations onto it.
Was this eight-year journey a regrettable “botched ending,” or is there something deeper at play?
Before labeling Lanxi Zhen, let us set aside our judgments of the characters for a moment, return to that world of spirits, and re-examine the positioning and mission of this work.
01 A Worldview Gradually Completed
Unlike many works that present a complete setting from the moment of debut, the worldview of Luo Xiaohei was gradually filled in as the series developed. The entire series takes “the relationship between humans and spirits” as its main thread, with “the establishment of the Guild” and “The Gate of All Beings” as landmark milestones, exploring how the human-spirit relationship changed across different periods and how the two could coexist.
Looking back at the release timeline of the series, we can observe the whole process of construction of the Luo Xiaohei world:
From 2011 to 2017, the TV series The Legend of Luo Xiaohei daily-life arc (episodes 1-27) kept updating, moving readers with its warm, healing style. At this stage, the work focused on specific characters and compact, punchy storytelling; the building of the worldview took a back seat, conveyed only briefly through fragmentary narration — for example, in episode 13, “Psionic Power,” through Agen's words, it first introduced basic settings such as “spirits,” “yokai/spirits,” and “psionic spaces.”
What truly made the world grand and dimensional was the comic Lanxi Zhen, which began serialization in 2018. Although before the 2019 release of the feature film The Legend of Luo Xiaohei 1, the comic still centered on warm slice-of-life storytelling, the author was already consciously adding to the setting — e.g., the term “Six Major Disciplines” first appears in chapter 10, and chapter 18 establishes “when psionic essence dissipates, one returns to nature” and “there is no bringing the dead back to life.”
As the plot progressed, Lanxi Zhen gradually revealed its grand vision: with Laojun, master of all Six Disciplines, and Qingning, a prodigy of the healing discipline, as protagonists, the comic naturally introduced new concepts such as souls, death spirits, and spirit-seeking through their lessons and practice, filling in the background of the “Six Disciplines” and “Five Elements” that the TV series could not fully display, and systematically explaining the underlying setting of “spirits.”
At the same time, lines like “humans' ancestors were also spirits” and “spirits believe in the fixed-species doctrine... all living things today evolved and diversified from the ancient spirit race” pushed the connection between humans and spirits back to a more remote primordial era, strengthening the world's credibility.
Perhaps because the comic had laid the groundwork, in the subsequently updated TV series The Gate of All Beings arc (episodes 28-40) and the 2025 feature film The Legend of Luo Xiaohei 2, the creators no longer explained the underlying logic of spirits and yokai, but directly presented how the world operates.
Unlike the TV series and films, which focus on current events, Lanxi Zhen places greater emphasis on building the worldview. Its core mission has two parts: one is to systematically output the world's settings, and the other is to complete a timeline spanning a hundred years. This includes introducing the origin of the spirits' Guild and its social background, and explaining the reasons behind important TV-series events such as Laojun refusing to leave his mountain and Fairy Qingning's passing. One could say that Lanxi Zhen's worldview groundwork laid the foundation for the animated storyline to fully flex its muscles.
On the other hand, Lanxi Zhen's main storyline spans a full 392 years, and such an enormous time span means an extremely heavy narrative burden — its feel was destined not to be as light and breezy as the animation. To accomplish the ambition of “building a world” within limited space, the author sacrificed, to a certain degree, the delicate carving of characters at the micro level.
The particularity of Lanxi Zhen is thus evident: if you only enjoy Xiaohei's slice-of-life storytelling, beautiful fight scenes, and animation, the TV series and feature films are more than enough; but if you want a systematic understanding of the worldview, Lanxi Zhen is a must-read. And a complete, detailed, and credible worldview is also of great significance to the development of the entire Luo Xiaohei series.
02 Why Do Modern People Love Luo Xiaohei?
The prevalence of fan-made derivative works makes it clear that the construction of the Luo Xiaohei world is a success. As the Luo Xiaohei IP's worldview has been continuously built and refined, the ways audiences consume it have also changed.
Before the TV series and the first feature film were released, Luo Xiaohei was still in the IP development stage. Referring to Hiroki Azuma's classification of anime consumption modes in Otaku: Japan's Database Animals (Animalized Postmodernity), the audience at that stage was in the transition from consuming small narratives to consuming grand narratives — that is, they were moved by the adorable Xiaohei, the stoic Wuxian, and the warm, healing stories. At that time, fan works were mostly fan art and fan comics of the main cast, and the objects of consumption were still the specific characters and storylines created by the author.
As Lanxi Zhen filled in the worldview, the audience's attention began to extend from the surface-level “story” and “character design” to the “worldview” behind the story, showing a tendency toward “worldview consumption.” In the era of the second film, a series of OC posters set against the Luo Xiaohei worldview appeared in fan communities; by then the Luo Xiaohei IP had been built into a relatively internally consistent world, and audiences were no longer satisfied with merely watching Xiaohei's story — they tried to construct their own identities within that psionic system.
At the same time, The Gate of All Beings arc and the second film also showed a tendency toward “database consumption.” A large number of exquisitely designed characters flash by without their stories or backgrounds being explained, yet they provide the audience with a “database” that can be searched and mined.
But unlike the database consumption described by Hiroki Azuma, which purely pursues combinations of “moe elements,” the character database in the Luo Xiaohei series often serves to supplement the worldview, aiming to prove the authenticity and vastness of this world where humans and spirits coexist.
This may be related to the production team's unique aesthetic orientation and creative habits: rather than precise control over narrative and script, they are more immersed in the design of visual language — creating rich character designs, polishing scenes with a strong sense of everyday life, and designing a logically self-consistent system of civilization. In this process, the priorities of creation shifted as well: the self-consistency of the worldview took precedence, to a certain extent, over the shaping of specific characters, resulting in a large and diverse cast and a narrative approach that resembles “decentralization.”
As a result, some viewers jokingly called the TV series “The Legend of Agen,” the first film “The Legend of Wuxian,” and the second film “The Legend of Luye,” while the protagonist Xiaohei seemed more like a point-of-view character used to string together the various characters with no or only shallow connections under the grand worldview.
On one hand, this narrative strategy makes key information overly scattered, burdening newcomers and casual viewers. To fully understand a character's story, one has to dig through the creators' Weibo, art books, the TV series, and the comic. On the other hand, it has also made the work's reputation mixed: supporters love this “everyone has a story” sense of aliveness; detractors feel the characters appear too chaotically and abruptly, weakening the narrative tension.
Setting aside visual factors like art style and design, why does this fictional world of spirits hold such powerful appeal?
From an IP perspective, the charm of the Luo Xiaohei worldview comes from its clearly layered, rigorously logical “psionic” settings. Through the explicit Six Disciplines of abilities, the promotion path of “becoming an immortal, attaining godhood,” and organizations of spirit forces such as the Guild, the creators have provided fans with a clear, easy-to-identify-with set of rules, making it easier for fans to project themselves into it.
Luo Xiaohei's breakout popularity lies even more in its gentle, understated narrative style. As one netizen joked about Luo Xiaohei's characters, “so utterly unremarkable, and so reassuring” — this series has constructed a warm, mutually respectful, almost zero-social-burden spirit society that fits modern people's pursuit of and longing for freedom and equality, becoming a spiritual utopia where some people rest their hearts.
How does spirit society differ from human society?
Borrowing Fei Xiaotong's view in The Institution of Reproduction: in human society, the family, as the smallest social unit, was fundamentally established to satisfy the need for the human species to continue (i.e., the need for reproduction). To ensure newborn individuals could survive smoothly within the social system, society established the institution of marriage, helping human infants complete the long process of “socialization” through “dual-parent nurturing,” while introducing inheritance systems to ensure the effective transfer of resources and power across generations.
Although these institutions guaranteed the stability of the social structure, over the course of history they gradually merged with economic and power orders, forming the present social system dominated by male and patriarchal power. Gender discrimination, generational divides, and class oppression are often rationalized in the name of “family responsibility” or “social expectations,” becoming structural burdens modern people find hard to shake off.
In spirit society, by contrast, the setting that spirits gather psionic essence to live and cannot reproduce fundamentally deconstructs the responsibilities and burdens brought by family. Without the need for reproduction, there is no gendered division of labor or inheritance pressure arising from it. Spirits can even freely choose their gender according to individual will, confining gender difference to the visual level, no longer carrying substantive biological or sociological distinctions.
Moreover, since spirits have extremely long lifespans and powerful abilities, they do not rely on class or strong organizations to obtain resources for survival. The way spirits get along resembles Laozi's “small state, few people,” where “people grow old and die without visiting one another.” Spirit organizations form mainly through geographic ties and master-disciple lineages.
But even when born in the same region, spirits do not form guardianship responsibilities or nurturing obligations based on order of birth; instead, like siblings, they treat each other as equals. Taking a master is usually a voluntary act as well — one may form deep bonds over shared interests, or, like Xuanli, simply take a master for the sake of cultivation, without needing to form overly deep emotional ties.
“Spirits are infinitely varied and can only be judged as individuals”(chapter 48) — this immense degree of choice and autonomy, compared with the unchosen bonds of blood, better fits modern people's desire for freedom and self-determination.
Such a worldview also more easily gives rise to “big heroine characters” like Luye. In realist narratives, a female character's charm often comes from her difficult breakout through the cracks of patriarchy and male power; but in spirit society, the systemic resistance faced by female spirits is minimized.
So when the screenwriter shapes these characters, she need not consider the reproductive anxieties and family responsibilities human women so often face, staying far from the resulting gender stereotypes of being considerate, gentle and cute, or selflessly devoted, allowing the character to explore the world and establish her self purely according to individual will.
This is also part of why some readers placed such high hopes on Qingning. In such a relatively equal world, Qingning could have broken through gender stereotypes and achieved complete personal independence, answering the audience's expectations of an ideal self, an ideal woman — but the work failed to show Qingning's complexity, reducing her to a perfect yet stereotyped “Saint” and “Fairy.”
03 Why Did Lanxi Zhen Spark Controversy?
In this author's view, the polarization of Lanxi Zhen's reputation is not only because the creative team's shaping abilities were limited, but even more because readers and the author held different expectations and positioning for this work: readers hoped to see more dimensional character development, while the creators focused more on how to flesh out a complex and diverse IP worldview.
From MTJJ's response, we can see the misalignment between the two. This article will mainly use Qingning as an example.
The creative team seems to believe that Qingning's growth was already complete when she followed Naga to the Northern Territories, and that the three hundred years there were merely a deepening of “repetitive and lonely” emotions; but from the readers' perspective, those three hundred years were the process of Qingning transforming from “human” to “immortal” — they should not be glossed over so simply, and deserved to be elaborated in ink.
The readers' doubts are not unfounded. Due to the shift of narrative focus, although Qingning's character arc had taken embryonic form before she left for the Northern Territories, it lacked force. This author will select three key events along Qingning's growth as examples for analysis:
First, traveling alone (chapters 49-60). After taking Laojun as her master, Qingning left Lanxi Town and Laojun's side for the first time, stepping into wider society, initially realizing the complexity of human-spirit relations and pondering the question of her stance on healing. At that time, her understanding of human-spirit relations mostly remained at the emotional level.
Second, attending the hairpin ceremony (chapters 80-84). “When a woman is promised in marriage, she may undergo the hairpin ceremony” — in ancient Han society, women generally underwent the hairpin ceremony before engagement and marriage, symbolizing adulthood. For Qingning, this should have been the turning point where she participated in social decision-making as an independent individual.
Earlier, the creators had designed two small plot points to show the “internal and external troubles” facing Lanxi Town after the war ended — Wuxian seeking Laojun's help on how to govern the calamity (the spirit calamity), and Mr. Zheng wanting to leave Lanxi Town in search of freedom. Qingning's decision at this moment to attend the hairpin ceremony showed her awareness and determination to formally participate in handling these complex conflicts. Yet in the narration, the work simplified the deeper impact of these social changes on Qingning, and by having her reaffirm her feelings for Laojun, contracted the conflict down to the dimension of “love” — the character development had already gone wrong here.
Third, heading to the Northern Territories (chapters 97-105). Yet between the hairpin ceremony and Naga forcing Laojun to hand over Qingning, there is a lack of plot involving Qingning making decisions on her own. Under these circumstances, Qingning suddenly stepping forward to ask Naga for a one-day reprieve, and persuading Laojun to let her go to the Northern Territories, in fact lacks the necessary psychological tempering and accumulation of ability. The qualities she displays — intelligence, strength and resolve, consideration for the greater good — seem innate rather than gradually formed through growth. There is a certain rupture in the character development here as well.
Good plot design should drive the arc of all core characters. During the three hundred years in the Northern Territories, Laojun goes from knowing nothing of love to understanding emotion, and Xuanli goes from impetuous rashness to learning restraint — both overcome their own flaws under the guidance of their goals and achieve clearer self-knowledge.
Qingning alone, apart from the increase in her physical age and cultivation, does not overcome her flaws or improve her self-knowledge in response to the changed environment — the character's growth is missing. This is precisely why readers accuse Qingning of being marginalized and comment that Lanxi Zhen is really “The Legend of Laojun.”
In fact, in this author's view, Qingning should have used her growth in power to break free from the fate of the “healing discipline's” passive sacrifice; she needed to reshape the standards of healing, display her uniqueness and subjectivity, and thereby complete her character arc.
But this process was simplified in the narration. As Laojun's disciple and a born healer, her acts of healing were not merely personal choices — they represented Laojun's stance and were enough to influence the direction of human-spirit relations. Early Qingning could save people through emotional kindness, but the later “Fairy Qingning” ought to have displayed a more rational process of deliberation and weighing, more befitting her identity.
The problem with Qingning's characterization lies partly in the production team's insufficient exploration of Qingning's social identity, and partly in the idealistic tone that permeates the work.
Yet looking across the entire Luo Xiaohei series, the creators seem afraid to give their protagonists “flaws” and “fears,” leaving character growth without internal resistance. Most characters also lack strong desires and goals, presenting a calm, “detached from all four elements” serenity and divinity. While this makes the work warm, it also renders the characters similar and lacking depth, making it hard for readers to resonate deeply.
According to the theory in 45 Master Characters, although Laojun and Qingning both belong to the “Savior” archetype, Laojun still has a transformation from “Hermit” to “Messiah,” whereas Qingning's positioning wavers among “Maiden, Savior, and Nurturer”: she combines the strengths of these archetypes (optimistic, powerful, and innately altruistic) but loses the predicaments these archetypes must face:
As a “Maiden,” she lacks the process of moving from naive dependence to strong independence; as a “Nurturer,” her devotion seems effortless — she is neither hurt by over-giving, nor shaken in her personality or values by choosing not to heal someone.
Even if a character's core is kindness and resilience, when facing certain losses of control they should still go through the shift from “wavering in the loss of control” to “establishing values.” Qingning lacks such a transformation, and thus lacks the process of metamorphosis from “maiden” to “immortal,” seeming more like a “sage” born with all knowledge and in no need of growth.
In building character relationships, characters should establish multidimensional personalities through mutual attraction and repulsion. The thinness and absence of Qingning's social relationships render her personality one-dimensional. By comparison, the most fully realized character in the entire series should be Fengxi from the first film: he has tenderness and kindness toward his own kind, and also cruelty in disregarding human lives;
he has the boldness and decisiveness of a leader of the exiled island group, yet hesitates and agonizes when seizing Xiaohei's domain; he has the calm and meticulousness of a planner, and also the madness and finality of scattering his spirit.
Perhaps precisely because Fengxi is a villain, the creators dared to give him intense flaws and conflicts. By contrast, positive characters like Wuxian and Xiaohei inevitably become caricatured due to the lack of internal antagonistic design.
The problem of characterization is also related to medium. The production team is better at shaping characters through audiovisual language, but comics can only convey information and emotion through static panels and dialogue; if the relationship between image and text is not handled well, emotion easily loses force in transmission. Films, with their tight pacing, emphasize narrative and character development, requiring characters to have clear desires and obstacles. The comic and TV series, with their slower pace and positioning leaning toward warmth and memes, tend to prioritize worldbuilding over deep exploration of characters.
04 Lanxi Zhen: A Dignified Farewell
Returning to the IP universe: as a prequel, Lanxi Zhen has indeed completed its mission for this stage. It not only outlines the Guild's development, but also explains the distribution of spirit forces in the Guild's founding period, essentially completing the construction of the worldview and the connection of the timeline, providing background support for the feature films and the TV series.
While systematically outputting the “psionic settings,” it also constructed a utopian spirit society free of blood ties and kinship ethics, offering a spiritual haven for modern people yearning for freedom and equality.
The many controversies Lanxi Zhen faced also expose the creative team's shortcomings in long-form work: scattered narrative focus, incomplete character arcs, and insufficient character complexity. This may be related to the team's creative habits: they seem better at everyday storytelling than at grand, complex narratives.
Considering the toll that eight years of serialization took on the creators' energy, ending here is already a sincere and dignified account.
But judging from The Gate of All Beings arc, Hanmuchunhua clearly wants to explore the deeper proposition of “human-spirit coexistence.” Deepening the theme inevitably raises higher demands for character development. According to official announcements, the pre-school arc of The Legend of Luo Xiaohei will be serialized in the second half of this year, and the comic Sword Saint Wuxian will meet readers in a few years.
We look forward to Hanmuchunhua continuing to improve and bringing more excellent works in the future.