Nicholas Tse Puts His Sons on Stage, Redefining Celebrity Fatherhood and Star‑Kid Culture in Hong Kong

The latest developments began on 16 February 2025, when a netizen spotted the 17‑year‑old Lucas on a snowy slope in Japan, bundled up with his father during a weekend ski trip. The photograph, shared widely on social platforms, sparked a flurry of comments praising the father‑son dynamic and noting how Lucas, now tall and strikingly handsome, seemed to have inherited his dad’s chiseled features.

A few months later, on 4 May 2025, Lucas and Quintus made a coordinated debut at one of Nicholas Tse’s concerts. The twins, both close to their mid‑teens, were ushered onto the stage for a brief performance that sent fans into a frenzy. Observers immediately drew visual parallels: Lucas mirrored his father’s sharp jawline and confident posture, while Quintus bore a resemblance to his mother, actress Cecilia Cheung. The media described the moment as a “genetic copy‑cat” and highlighted the rarity of a celebrity using a concert platform to showcase his children in such a personal way.

Later that summer, around 22 August, reports surfaced that the Tse family had established a sizable trust fund for the boys, an arrangement that signals a long‑term financial plan despite the fact that primary custody remains with their mother. Although the sum involved has not been disclosed, the announcement has reinforced the perception that Nicholas Tse is intent on securing his sons’ futures, a narrative that aligns with his recent public statements about responsible parenting.

The concert appearances have been more than flash‑in‑the‑pan moments. During a recent show in Hangzhou, a video captured Lucas sharing the microphone with his mother, delivering a duet that quickly went viral. Another Hong Kong concert saw Nicholas invite his elder son to the stage, giving Lucas a brief chance to sing alongside his dad. Both events have been framed by the press as tender father‑son interactions, a counterpoint to the often‑cited stereotype of distant fathers in celebrity divorces.

Even as the twins’ public visibility has risen, neither Lucas nor Quintus appears poised to follow directly in their parents’ footsteps. Lucas, now 17, has publicly stated that he has no immediate plans to enter the entertainment industry, preferring to focus on his studies and a burgeoning interest in motorsports. Although advertisers have reportedly approached him for high‑profile campaigns, the family has declined, citing a desire to protect the twins from premature exposure.

The evolution of Nicholas Tse’s relationship with his sons must be understood against the backdrop of his 2015 divorce from Cecilia Cheung. Following the split, the children lived primarily with their mother while maintaining regular, though limited, contact with their father—media estimates put the average at three joint outings per year. Over the past decade, Tse has gradually increased his involvement, using vacations, ski trips and appearances at his own concerts as opportunities to bond with Lucas and Quintus. The recent frequency of these public moments suggests a deliberate strategy to rebuild a visible father‑son relationship.

Beyond the personal dimension, the twins’ emergence on stage reflects larger trends within the Asian entertainment market. “Star kids” are a potent commercial force; their faces can command advertising fees that rival established celebrities. Industry insiders note that once Lucas and Quintus step fully into the limelight, they could become valuable assets for brands seeking to tap into the celebrity lineage appeal. Yet the Tse family’s insistence on shielding them from early fame also indicates an awareness of the pitfalls that have befallen many second‑generation performers.

The public response has been largely admiring. Social media users have praised Tse for his “real‑man” approach to fatherhood, especially in a culture where divorced fathers are sometimes perceived as disengaged. Commentators have highlighted how the family’s wealth‑transfer plans—establishing a trust rather than handing over cash directly—exemplify a modern take on inheritance, prompting discussions about responsible wealth stewardship among Hong Kong’s affluent class.

At the same time, the narrative fuels broader societal conversations. Observers question how divorced families can effectively co‑parent when one parent is a high‑profile figure, and whether the visibility of such arrangements reshapes public expectations of paternal involvement. The showcase of a father actively sharing stages with his children also challenges traditional gender norms, suggesting a more hands‑on model of masculinity that blends celebrity with caregiving.

Economically, Tse’s concerts, amplified by the surprise appearances of his sons, have been credited with boosting local tourism and entertainment revenues. The Hangzhou and Hong Kong shows have drawn crowds eager not only for music but also for the rare glimpse of a celebrity family moment, underscoring how personal stories can become drivers of cultural soft power and commercial activity.

In sum, the past year has seen Nicholas Tse’s sons transition from private, child‑care settings to highly publicized stages, a shift that illuminates the intersection of family dynamics, celebrity culture, and societal values in contemporary Hong Kong. While the boys remain firmly under the radar of an entertainment career, their continued presence alongside their father keeps the conversation alive about what it means to be a modern parent in the glare of the public eye, how wealth is passed across generations, and how the personal lives of stars can echo far beyond the confines of a concert hall.