Ding Chengxin’s One‑Swoop Lift of Zhang Li Goes Viral, Spotlighting China’s Idol Masculinity and Fan Culture
When the hosts of Hunan TV’s “Hello, Saturday” (known in Chinese as 你好星期六) asked their guests to “princess‑carry” a fellow celebrity, the resulting scene quickly went viral. In a single, effortless motion, Ding Chengxin—one‑half of the popular boy band TNT (时代少年团)—hoisted actress Zhang Li, prompting the hashtag #丁程鑫一把抱起张俪 to dominate Weibo’s trending list. The moment, seemingly a light‑hearted stunt on a variety show, has ignited a flurry of discussion that illuminates the mechanics of China’s entertainment industry and the cultural expectations that still shape it.
24 August 2025
The lift occurred during a segment orchestrated by the show’s veteran host He Jiong, whose quick cue—“Pick her up!”—provided the perfect set‑up for an Instagram‑ready tableau. Ding’s smooth execution drew immediate applause from the studio audience and an avalanche of comments online, many of which praised his strength and the “sense of safety” he gave to Zhang. For entertainment companies, such episodes are gold. A single clip can generate millions of views, sustaining fan interest between album releases and drama premieres. In an environment where idols are marketed not only for their vocal or acting talents but also for charisma, charm, and even perceived physical prowess, a “princess carry” becomes a shorthand for an idealized masculine image.
That image, however, is not without its contradictions. On one hand, the moment reinforces traditional gender scripts: the male idol is the protector, the physically capable figure who can effortlessly lift a woman. For fans who grew up on a steady stream of similar tropes, the sight of Ding bearing Zhang feels reassuring, a modern echo of a long‑standing narrative of chivalry. On the other hand, the incident adds pressure to an already demanding idol culture. Male stars are often expected to maintain a certain physique and display a confident, athletic demeanor. The public’s fascination with “who can’t pick up a girl,” as a recent online thread humorously warned, underscores how quickly strength—or the lack thereof—can become a talking point in a celebrity’s reputation.
The authenticity of the lift also adds a layer of intrigue. Variety shows in China are meticulously produced, and the line between genuine spontaneity and carefully scripted spectacle can be blurry. Whether Ding’s maneuver was rehearsed or happened in the moment matters less to viewers than the perception that it was a real display of camaraderie and physical ability. That perception fuels the narrative of a beloved idol who is both talented and relatable, enhancing his marketability across music, television, and endorsement deals.
Beyond the industry’s inner workings, the incident touches on broader social currents. For many young fans, idols serve as aspirational figures, shaping ideas about body image, confidence, and what it means to be attractive. Seeing a popular idol perform a physically demanding task without breaking a sweat can reinforce certain ideals of masculinity and fitness. At the same time, the entertainment landscape offers an avenue for escapism; moments like Ding’s lift give audiences a brief respite from daily life, allowing them to indulge in the fantasy of a perfect, all‑capable celebrity.
Political implications are minimal, yet the episode contributes, in its own small way, to China’s cultural soft power. Figures like Ding Chengxin represent a new generation of Chinese entertainers who project a modern, vibrant image of the country to a global audience. As Chinese variety shows and pop groups gain traction beyond domestic platforms, the values and narratives they disseminate—whether through a daring lift, a catchy song, or a scripted skit—become part of the nation’s cultural export.
In the days after the episode aired, the phrase “Ding Chengxin picked up Zhang Li in one swoop” circulated widely, not only on Chinese microblogs but also in English‑speaking fan forums that track the latest K‑pop‑style trends in China. The translation captures the essence of the moment: a single, decisive action that impressed viewers and sparked conversation. Whether discussed in terms of fan engagement, gender expectations, or the ever‑blurring line between staged performance and authentic interaction, the lift serves as a microcosm of how a seemingly trivial gesture can ripple through the entertainment ecosystem, reinforcing existing norms while also highlighting the evolving expectations placed on today’s idols.