From Meme to Make‑over: How a Viral Hashtag Restored Fu Xinbo’s Image and Redeemed His Marriage to Ying Er
The Chinese internet is abuzz with a new meme that has turned a once‑controversial marital saga into a light‑hearted celebration of love, loyalty and, surprisingly, good looks. The hashtag #颖儿是怕我惦记付辛博#, which roughly translates as “Ying Er is afraid I’m thinking about Fu Xinbo,” has surged on Weibo over the past week, prompting a cascade of jokes, apologies and, most notably, a dramatic reversal of public opinion about the couple.

8 August 2025
The phrase originated from a candid remark made by popular actress Ying Er during an early‑season episode of the reality series “Wife’s Romantic Travel.” In the show’s “observation room,” she half‑jokingly warned the camera crew that she didn’t want anyone “thinking about” her husband, actor‑singer Fu Xinbo, a comment that was seized on by gossip columns and quickly spun into a narrative of possessiveness and marital tension. At the time, discussions about the pair focused heavily on two controversial issues that had surfaced on the same program: their so‑called “AA system” – a financial arrangement described by the show as each spouse managing his or her own money – and Ying Er’s decision to return to work only weeks after giving birth to their daughter.
The “AA system” was painted in a negative light, suggesting that Fu Xinbo was reluctant to shoulder household expenses, while the postpartum return to work was framed as a sign of financial strain. The combination of those storylines fed a broader perception that the marriage was unbalanced, with Ying Er appearing as the vulnerable partner forced to juggle career and motherhood. Social media users echoed the sentiment, often portraying Fu Xinbo as the aloof, perhaps even unsympathetic, husband.
That narrative began to shift dramatically in early July when Fu Xinbo appeared on the competitive music variety show “Call Me By Fire” (披哥). The program, a high‑profile showcase that pits established male entertainers against each other in singing, dancing and performance challenges, gave Fu Xinbo a platform to display a full spectrum of talent that many internet observers had not previously seen. Viewers praised his polished vocals, deft choreography and charismatic stage presence, dubbing him an “all‑around good man” with “looks, acting skills, and singing/dancing ability.” The surge of positive attention sparked a wave of retrospection among netizens who revisited the couple’s past on‑screen moments with fresh eyes.
One of the most striking effects of Fu Xinbo’s revived popularity has been a chorus of apologies directed at him. Users who once sided with Ying Er or who had criticized the husband’s alleged financial indifference are now publicly acknowledging that they may have been misled. Comments such as “I’m sorry for misunderstanding Fu Xinbo” and “We judged him unfairly; he’s actually a great guy” have proliferated, and many have explicitly linked their changed view to the new footage of his performances.
The reconsideration does not stop at the show’s stage. The “AA system” is being re‑examined in light of behind‑the‑scenes footage from the reality series. Rather than each partner isolatedly handling finances, several posts point out that Fu Xinbo actually took charge of the household budget, paying for utilities, groceries and other shared expenses, while Ying Er managed her own earnings from acting projects. The clarification reframes the arrangement not as a cold split but as a practical division of labor, suggesting that Fu Xinbo was more financially supportive than previously believed.
Similarly, the narrative around Ying Er’s early return to work after childbirth is being updated. Earlier commentary insinuated that she was compelled by money worries, but newer interpretations argue that her decision stemmed largely from personal anxiety and a desire to stay active, while Fu Xinbo took a self‑imposed ten‑month hiatus from his own projects to give her space and support. A string of posts noted that “Fu Xinbo stopped working for ten months to look after his wife,” effectively debunking the earlier claim that he forced her back into the office.
The discourse surrounding their arguments has also softened. Earlier clips from “Wife’s Romantic Travel” seemed to present Fu Xinbo as a win‑or‑lose debater, with Ying Er portrayed as the exhausted party who lost sleep over disagreements. Fans now point out that, in the same clips, Fu Xinbo frequently conceded to Ying Er’s points, suggesting a dynamic where he was more accommodating than the earlier “hard‑headed” image implied.
Amid this flurry of reassessments, a more cynical thread has emerged. Some users, wielding the new meme, question whether Ying Er’s earlier comments were a strategic attempt to “blacken” Fu Xinbo—that is, to cast a shadow over his reputation in order to keep him “to herself.” The joke is carried forward in the hashtag itself: by declaring “Ying Er is afraid I’m thinking about Fu Xinbo,” netizens humorously insinuate that the actress is protective to the point of fearing anyone else might covet her husband. This tongue‑in‑cheek accusation is less a serious indictment and more a way to highlight the couple’s evident affection, especially now that Fu Xinbo’s charm is on full display.
The phrase’s popularity has also led to broader cultural comparisons. Users have likened the couple’s evolving image to that of other high‑profile celebrity pairs and have labeled Fu Xinbo as the “second celebrity after Zhou Yiwei to gain ‘guilty fans’”—a term for observers who feel embarrassed about their earlier, misguided judgments. Memes juxtaposing his “Big Prince” role in the hit drama “Joy of Life” (《庆余年》) with his newfound variety‑show charisma have proliferated, cementing his status as a multi‑talented entertainer whose public perception has undergone a rapid transformation.
All of this is happening against a backdrop of rapid information exchange on Weibo, where the phrase has become a touchstone for a larger conversation about how reality‑show editing, selective soundbites and sensationalist reporting can skew public understanding of private lives. Analysts note that the “observation room” commentary—where hosts and editors often frame participants’ statements to fit a predetermined storyline—may have been the original source of the misunderstanding, rather than any direct admission from Fu Xinbo himself. The recent correction of that narrative underscores a growing awareness among Chinese netizens that context matters, and that a single spoken line can be amplified far beyond its intended scope.
In sum, #颖儿是怕我惦记付辛博# is more than a viral joke; it is a barometer of shifting sentiment toward one of China’s most watched celebrity couples. The meme captures a collective moment of re‑evaluation: fans are reconciling past impressions with fresh evidence, apologizing for hasty judgments, and celebrating a marriage that, despite earlier controversy, appears to be built on mutual support and affection. As the phrase continues to trend, it serves as a reminder that in the age of reality television and social media, narratives are fluid, and the truth often surfaces when the spotlight shines on a different stage.