Previously, my impression of Comrade Rui Chenggang was limited to him being a proud and talented journalist who spoke fluent English. It wasn’t until I saw the shocking news online that he had been taken away by prosecutors that I realized this person was extraordinary. If he were also classified as an idol, he must have had tens of thousands of fans, especially among passionate and educated young people. Now, mentioning him probably evokes a different kind of discussion.
The collapse of idols is no longer news. The shining stars we once fervently chased may inevitably encounter unconventional events in their work and lives. Once amplified by powerful media, they indeed become hot topics.
What is an idol? In my opinion, an idol refers to a specific person who has a significant impact on your spirit over a relatively long period, generally in a positive way. However, never expect your idol to always sail smoothly through the long river of life. Those who navigate life without any turbulence are not called humans; they are called gods. Clearly, your idol is not a god.
How should we treat idols? I remember when I was in elementary school, “My Fair Princess” was a nationwide hit. Like many of my classmates, Ruby Lin became my first film and television idol. I would buy colorful stickers from stores to decorate my beloved notebooks. If someone had a high-definition picture of her, I would try every means to get it. Back then, I probably liked her role as Ziwei in the drama and her delicate beauty.
Later, in middle and high school, I met more classmates and friends who liked her, which greatly expanded the scope of our conversations. The focus shifted to who she had liked, who she was dating, and her recent status. However, I also began to hear questioning voices and rumors about her, both true and false. I never argued but continued to like her.
Over the years, she has long shed the naivety of her youth and stepped into a rich and wonderful life. She successfully transitioned from an actress to a producer and director, quietly engaging in public welfare and subtly exuding her enduring charm. This year, at Vivian Hsu’s wedding, she was the most beautiful bridesmaid. Back then, I was chasing an illusory star; now, I appreciate a real person. No matter what happens to her, I am grateful for the color she added to my most innocent years.
As I grew older, my judgment also improved. Whether I like a star or not is largely determined by my life outlook, experiences, and taste. Or perhaps it’s because they possess qualities I lack or even starkly contrast with my own. Because I don’t have them, I like them.
Among the domestic female singers I like, besides the universally adored Faye Wong, I am quite fond of Karen Mok. “A gentleman changes like a leopard, his patterns are magnificent.” She lives up to her name. Her career is full of novelty and the exploration of her own charm. Her sensuality is the kind that flows from her voice into her bones and then manifests in her appearance, leaving a lasting impression. Her songs are not mere whining but are inspired by everyday life. The melodies, neither too close nor too far, are perfect for people with stories. Unfortunately, my voice isn’t outstanding, so I can only hum along to the simpler tunes.
I started liking Zhou Xun many years ago, seemingly from her song “Looking at the Sea.” Her fashion sense, her straightforward attitude, and her bright smile have quietly made me a fan for so many years. To my delight, “Little Taiping” Zhou Xun happily got married. Seeing her sweetly dressed in a wedding gown, I couldn’t help but start to envision my own wedding day, not grand or ostentatious, but full of deep affection.
If I had to name a favorite, in recent years, it would undoubtedly be Tang Wei. She has an extraordinary temperament, is low-key and elegant, capable yet humble, a typical high-quality and powerful idol. She smiles gently, “Without contention, there is still your world.” A woman doesn’t need to compete externally; doing so would lose her grace and demeanor. If there is to be contention, it should be internal, striving for her own standards and demands. A person without self-control and restraint, constantly competing, can even lose their true self. Speaking of Tang Wei, one cannot avoid mentioning “Lust, Caution.” But talking about “Lust, Caution” is better replaced by discussing Tang Wei in a cheongsam. In my heart, her appearance in a cheongsam is as beautiful as a lotus quietly blooming in the morning dew, elegant and refined, to be admired from afar but not to be trifled with.
I am somewhat embarrassed to admit that the domestic male stars I like are all older gentlemen. Time is a good thing; it sifts through the sand to find the gold. The tastes that have stood the test of time are considered classics. Here, I will give one example each of a singer and an actor. The former is Jacky Cheung, and the latter is Chen Jianbin.
After saying so much, in reality, the connection between ordinary fans and idols is maintained through silent attention. You don’t know me, but I have already placed you in my heart.
Do not impose on others what you do not desire yourself. Idols are not gods; they are also walking the real journey of life.