‘The First Frost’: A soul-stirring and angsty masterpiece
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‘The First Frost’ is the type of drama that stays with you long after the credits have rolled.
The First Frost is an urban romance drama directed by Qu You Ning and based on Zhu Yi’s novel. A spin-off of the popular and well-rated Chinese drama Hidden Love, The First Frost takes a different approach, and it has a unique charm. It pierces your heart, tears it apart, and then stitches it back together. And let me say it straight — you need to watch this.
The First Frost differentiates itself with its beautiful storytelling, breathtaking cinematography, and gut-wrenching acting.
Bai Jingting and Zhang Ruonan bring Sang Yan and Wen Yifan to life, creating a romantic story about yearning, healing, growth and the bittersweet weight of time.
From the very first episode, The First Frost set the tone for the emotional chaos ahead.
“Wen Yifan, am I just your backup option?” Sang Yan asks, his voice laced with pain. And just like that, the heartbreak begins.
The narrative then moves to the present-day, where Wen Yifan, now a reporter, goes to her hometown and unexpectedly reunites with her former deskmate, Sang Yan, a bar owner. After years apart, they pretend they don’t know each other but continue to cross paths. When harassment pushes Wen Yifan to move and Sang Yan’s flat is destroyed by fire, they end up co-renting an apartment, where awkwardness evolves into a slow burn romance.
Unresolved emotions erupt when “almost” lovers share the same space. Sang Yan discovers that Wen Yifan is sleepwalking as a result of prior trauma. He quietly looks after her, making sure she feels safe without making her feel shattered. What begins as awkward cohabitation blossoms into a beautiful, calm understanding, and their hearts quickly begin to open again.
One of the turning points? New Year’s Eve. Sang Yan opted to stay with Yifan rather than celebrate with his family. Then came one of the most heart-warming moments: Wen Yifan’s birthday. Knowing her love for strawberries, Sang Yan presented her with a cake and a special gift: perfume.
That moment, full of honesty and teasing, was pure cinematic gold as Yifan sat with her eyes shining in the candlelight. “What did you wish for?” He asked, keeping a careful eye on her. Yifan said, her voice light but uncertain, “If I say it, it won’t come true.”
“If you don’t, how can I make it come for you?” “Sang Yan insisted, his tone tinged with something deeper, something that made her heart rush.
“It’s about work.” Yifan hastily deflected, but he wasn’t buying it.
With a smirk, he leaned in ever so slightly and threw in the smoothest line of the century — “I thought you wanted me to be your boyfriend.”
Millions of hearts burst at once, years of longing were condensed into one conversation. The way he stated it — half-joking, half-serious — was enough to send the fandom into a frenzy.
On Sang Yan’s birthday in Episode 18, Wen Yifan was stuck at work, but she still sent him a message past midnight, along with a birthday cake. His reply was simple yet telling: “I can wait. This year, I’ll celebrate my birthday a day later.”
As the rain poured down on Beiyu, Wen Yifan retraced their steps, walking through their former school and visiting their favorite noodle shop. The memories were vivid, and the ache was real. She thought back to the night she left him in the rain and realized: Sang Yan deserved all the best things in the world.
With that, she made a brave choice. She called him. “Would you consider letting me pursue you this time?”
The rain kept falling. Wen Yifan sat by the window, thinking she might never return. Then, a familiar voice cut through the storm.
Sang Yan. Standing in the doorway, umbrella in hand, steady as ever. Without hesitation, he told the shop owner, “I’m here to pick someone up.”
Outside, under the rain that once witnessed their heartbreak, he looked at her and said, “Have you noticed? After all these years, I still only like you.”
Wen Yifan smiled. “If you think words like that are too sentimental, then from now on, I’ll be the one to say them.”
The rain that once marked their goodbye had now become the perfect backdrop for their love story’s loveliest chapter, the “we are mutually in love” moment.
That night, she booked Sang Yan a room on the same floor. At his request, she stepped inside. He noticed the weight she had lost, the small wound behind her ear, his heart aching at the sight. Then, leaning in, he whispered, “I came to claim my birthday present,” before pressing a kiss to her lips. As she left, she asked about his wish. His reply? “It already came true.”
And the long wait is over their dating era began. In Episode 20, after hearing that a kiss at the top of a Ferris wheel meant forever, Sang Yan took Wen Yifan on another ride and sealed it with a kiss. Episode 22 was even sweeter, as Sang Yan carried a tipsy Wen Yifan home, witnessing her beautiful drunken antics before waking up to find her at ease alongside him. The intensity of their relationship became apparent throughout that calm morning, and this writer could sense it as well. I had never felt “single” until that scene, which made me want to fall in love all over again.
But love wasn’t without its shadows. When her past resurfaced, Wen Yifan fled for Hong Kong to heal and reclaim her ballet dancing drive. To protect him, she had to leave. But Sang Yan never wavered. He found her, and in their quiet reunion, Wen Yifan opened up. Sang Yan kissed the corner of her lips as night fell, whispering, “Thank you, for protecting my Shuang Jiang.” It was their first true moment of togetherness, as if the universe had finally made sense.
And, of course, the finale. It all began in high school and came full circle, ending back where it all started. It was revealed that Sang Yan had meticulously planned their first meeting — pretending to play basketball just to catch Wen Yifan’s attention, so she would ask him for directions to her room. Little did they know, they would end up as seatmates in the same room. The finale recreated that very moment, bringing them back to that spot before strolling down memory lane.
They entered their old classroom and sat in the same corner seats. But this time, Sang Yan had something special in mind. A video full of loving messages, a ring box hidden inside the music box he once gave her —every detail was loaded with years of a yearning but the story will now have a happy ending.
He was nervous, but his love was unwavering. And then, the moment that made hearts melt: Sang Yan gently handed Wen Yifan a Dancing-Doll Orchid and said, “To me, you look like a fluttering butterfly. You always shine. I want you to fly free forever. I want, like I said, to give you wings and destroy all your pain.”
No grand spectacle, no kneeling — just pure, unwavering devotion for the love of his life. He wasn’t just asking for forever; he was promising to be her home, her family.
This is easily one of the most stunning proposals in Chinese drama. Everything felt authentic, even the acting and the lines. It was as if it were an open letter to everyone, encouraging them to give love another chance and find their own “Sang Yan.”
The First Frost is the type of drama that stays with you long after the credits have rolled — a warm, lingering hug on the coldest of nights.
Sang Yan and Wei Yifan have an intense yet achingly sweet relationship, like a slow-burning spark that ignites with every stolen gaze and unspoken whisper.
More than romance, it exposes layers of workplace abuse, toxic parenting and underlying trauma. With breathtaking cinematography and a heartfelt soundtrack, this is one of the best C-dramas of 2025.
