Chinese Star Zhao Lusi Urges Brands to Deal via Agency, Highlighting Growing Professionalism in Celebrity‑Brand Partnerships
Chinese actress Zhao Lusi has thrust a rare glimpse of the behind‑the‑scenes mechanics of the country’s celebrity‑brand ecosystem into the public eye. In a live stream on August 8, the 27‑year‑old star announced that a growing number of brands have been contacting her directly to discuss collaborations – even proposing on‑set filming – and urged them to “go through my company” instead. “If all work communications were handled by me alone, and they were to pay me directly, I would feel very uncomfortable,” she said, a statement that has quickly rippled through China’s entertainment and marketing circles.
8 August 2025
Zhao’s management agency, Silver Cool Entertainment (银河酷娱), responded within hours, expressing surprise at the openness of the actress’s remarks while reaffirming its long‑standing partnership with her. The agency emphasized that it remains committed to its “brokerage duties” (经纪义务) and highlighted its recent actions to protect Zhao’s health, noting that it had coordinated with partners and reshuffled her schedule after she fell ill. “Our priority is always Zhao’s well‑being and the integrity of her contracts,” a spokesperson said.
The actress’s call to action landed under the trending hashtag #赵露思呼吁品牌找公司对接工作, sparking a lively debate online. Some netizens speculated that Zhao’s insistence on formal channels could be a prelude to a move into live‑e‑commerce, a booming sector where stars sell products directly to fans. Others recalled earlier statements in which Zhao hinted at terminating her contract with Silver Cool, questioning why she now appears to be reinforcing the agency’s role. A handful of comments suggested that the actress’s acting calendar has thinned, fueling rumors that she may be pivoting toward a new, more commercially driven phase of her career.
Industry analysts say the episode underscores a broader trend toward professionalization in China’s entertainment market. Talent agencies are increasingly positioned as gatekeepers, tasked not only with finding roles but also with vetting brand partnerships, negotiating fair compensation, and safeguarding intellectual property. By publicly refusing to entertain direct offers, Zhao reinforces the expectation that brands must respect established pathways, thereby reducing the risk of “soft advertising” or undeclared product placements that could run afoul of China’s tightening advertising regulations.
For brands, the message carries both practical and strategic implications. Many companies, especially smaller or newer players, have grown accustomed to direct outreach to influencers, a practice that can be quicker and less costly than navigating agency protocols. Zhao’s stance, however, offers a clearer, more accountable route: a single point of contact that can verify an artist’s availability, negotiate terms consistent with market rates, and ensure compliance with advertising laws. “When we work through an agency, we know the deal is transparent and legally sound,” said He Jing, the head of a kudzu‑root tea brand that Zhao recently promoted. He praised the actress’s professionalism and said the partnership had boosted consumer confidence in his product.
The public reaction has been mixed. While some fans expressed sympathy, noting that high‑profile celebrities are inundated with unsolicited pitches that can blur personal and professional boundaries, others voiced skepticism, pointing to Zhao’s earlier comments about ending her agency relationship. “If she really wanted out, why is she now telling everyone to go through the same company?” one user asked. Others simply appreciated the candor, likening her announcement to a “refresh button” that reminds both fans and advertisers that even megastars have limits.
Zhao’s remarks also cast a spotlight on the growing distinction between traditional entertainers and self‑managed social‑media influencers. In the West, it is common for actors to have dedicated publicists or agents handling brand deals, but China’s market has seen a rapid rise in “in‑house” influencer marketing that bypasses agencies altogether. By insisting on agency mediation, Zhao aligns herself with the former model, suggesting that top‑tier talent may be moving away from the more ad‑hoc influencer approach that characterizes many smaller creators.
The episode arrives at a moment when the Chinese government is tightening oversight of live‑stream sales and influencer marketing. New guidelines require clear disclosures of commercial content, and penalties for undisclosed advertising have become more severe. Zhao’s refusal to accept off‑record product placements or “soft advertising” in live broadcasts could be a preemptive move to avoid regulatory scrutiny, and it signals to other celebrities the importance of compliance.
For now, the exact trajectory of Zhao Lusi’s career remains uncertain. While she has hinted at contract termination in past interviews, her recent public appeal for brands to liaise through Silver Cool suggests at least a temporary alignment with her agency’s interests. Whether this is a strategic pause before a full‑scale entry into the live‑e‑commerce arena, a defensive measure to protect her brand amid a saturated market, or simply a reinforcement of professional boundaries, the episode has already prompted a broader conversation about how China’s entertainment industry handles commercial partnerships.
In the weeks ahead, observers will watch closely to see if other celebrities follow Zhao’s lead. If they do, the ripple effect could bring a new level of transparency and standardization to an industry that has long been characterized by opaque deals and rapid, sometimes reckless, brand-artist collaborations. For brands, the takeaway is clear: to work with China’s marquee talent, the path now runs through the agency gate, not the star’s personal inbox.
