u/DI_85

Does higher billing automatically mean a higher paycheck? And how much does your favorite star actually earn from dramas?"

I’ve been going down a HUGE rabbit hole about cdrama budgets and actor salaries lately and honestly… the numbers are insane!
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The biggest pay scandal in C-ent history involved now-banned actress Zheng Shuang. Leaked chats from her former partner claimed she was paid 160 million RMB (~$22M USD) for a single drama filmed over roughly 77 days. Which means she was allegedly making: 2.08M RMB/day (US$287K/day).

This, combined with Fan Bingbing’s tax evasion and yin-yang contract scandal, triggered a major government crackdown on celebrity pay in China.

The Salary Cap Rules
After these scandals, China introduced strict caps:

1. Total cast salaries ≤ 40% of the drama’s total production budget
2. Top-billed actor(s) ≤ 70% of that total cast payroll

These rules are real, officially issued by the NRTA (National Radio and Television Administration) and strengthened after Zheng Shuang’s 2021 investigation.

And THIS is where things get really interesting because drama budgets in China are HUGE.

Typical CDrama Budget Tiers
- (B) Low-budget web dramas 5M–20M RMB (US$690K–2.8M)
- (A, A+) Standard idol/romance dramas 30M–80M RMB (US$4.1M–11M)
- (S, S+) High-tier streaming dramas 100M–300M RMB (US$13.8M–41M) to 300M–500M+ RMB (US$41M–69M+)

For example, a mega-hit historical drama from last year starring an A-list actor with sole top billing was rumored to have a production budget of about: 528M RMB (US$73M)

Under China’s salary cap rules:
- Maximum total cast payroll: 211.2M RMB (US$29.2M)
- Maximum allowed for top-billed actors: 147.8M RMB (US$20.4M)
Now HERE’S the important part: That 147.8M RMB does NOT automatically go to one person.It depends heavily on agreement contract (billing order, contract negotiations, agency power, popularity/traffic, profit-sharing agreements)

So if a drama has:
ONE sole top-billed actor just like the example above, then that actor could theoretically receive MOST of the top-billed allocation of 147.8M RMB (US$20.4M).

But if the drama has: dual leads then that amount gets divided according to the contracts.

For example:
Actor A: 70M RMB (US$9.7M)
Actor B: 50M RMB (US$6.9M)
Remaining amount distributed among veteran/supporting cast

Which honestly explains why billing wars in C-ent are SO intense 😭 Because first billing in China is not just about prestige anymore. It can literally affect tens of millions of RMB. BUT important disclaimer because these are just estimates!

The salary cap only shows the MAXIMUM allowed structure. It does NOT mean actors automatically receive the full 40% allocation or the full top-billed limit. Actors can absolutely earn LESS depending on again on contract agreement! Industry whispers about actors lowering their fees are real!

- Zhang Linghe reportedly reduced his fee from 12 million RMB to 3.5 million RMB (a reduction of approximately $1.17 million USD) to secure his role in Pursuit of Jade. In the same drama, Tian Xiwei (female lead) earned approximately 3 million RMB, while Kong Xue'er (supporting role) earned approximately 1.5 million RMB.

- Tan Xiwei was also rumored to have offered a lower salary than another actress to win a project.

- Multiple actors are now negotiating down to 3M–5M RMB due to the "limit order."

So while people love calculating the “maximum possible salary,” the REAL numbers are probably all over the place depending on the drama and the actor.

Still… compared to the pre-crackdown era, things already seem WAY more controlled now because some productions back then were reportedly spending more on traffic stars than on the actual drama itself!

Which artists actually belong in each tier right now? And where would you place your fave, and why? Curious to see how different everyone’s rankings are 👀

This topic came to mind after I saw a viral post on X about a possible collaboration between a 90s A-list actress and a post-85s actor, and the comments immediately turned into a debate over whether he’s A or B tier.

First, it’s important to say this clearly: there is no official ranking system in the Chinese entertainment industry. No authority is assigning these tiers. What we see are mostly fan interpretations, media narratives, and industry speculation, all of which can shift very quickly.

When netizens talk about tiers, they’re usually combining multiple factors, like:

- Commercial value (endorsements, brand deals, ad rates)
- Film and TV performance (ratings, box office, hit dramas)
- Resource access (quality of projects, directors, co-stars)
- Public recognition or “national popularity”
- Awards and critical acclaim
- Ability to carry a drama or film

Based on these factors, people tend to loosely group artists into tiers, even if the definitions aren’t fixed:

A-list:
Top-tier stars with strong commercial value, consistent hit projects, and high public recognition. They usually have access to premium resources and can carry a project on their own.

B-list:
Well-known and active leads with solid careers, but slightly less consistent hit rates, lower commercial value, or weaker “national recognition” compared to A-list. This is also where a lot of debate happens, since the gap between strong B-list and lower A-list can be very thin.

C-list:
Recognizable supporting actors or leads in smaller productions. They may have steady work but limited influence when it comes to casting power, budgets, or overall market pull.

D-list:
Newcomers, less active artists, or those with minimal visibility in mainstream projects. This tier is very fluid and can include both rookies and actors who haven’t had a breakout moment yet.

Because of that, rankings are constantly changing. One hit drama can elevate someone overnight, while a few weaker projects can shift perception just as fast.

There are definitely artists who are widely recognized as A-listers. But there’s also a gray area where some names get labeled A-list by certain fans or marketing accounts, yet still spark debate because that status isn’t universally agreed upon, like Cheng Yi, Bai Lu, Zhao Lusi, Liu Yuning, Zhang Linghe, and Dylan Wang.

Personally, at the end of the day, tiers are just labels. They might be fun to debate, but they’re not why I watch dramas. As long as the story works and the performance pulls me in, that’s what actually matters.

If acting is what matters most, why are realistic role visuals still used as insults?

There have already been many discussions recently about how visuals affect the viewing experience and how pretty privilege shapes the way audiences judge acting. Many often claim that performance matters more than looks, but what I keep noticing is that what *many say and the reality are completely different.

When actors take on grounded, slice-of-life, or less glamorous roles, the conversation quickly shifts away from acting and toward appearance. Rival fandoms constantly use screenshots from certain scenes or roles to mock an actor’s looks or compare them to their fave, which shows that many still prioritize polished, whitewashed visuals over realism, even while pretending acting is the most important factor.

Both Xu Kai and Wang Hedi’s buzz cuts and rougher appearances in their latest dramas were criticized as a “visual collapse,” with netizens saying they should go back to doing idol costume dramas. The discussion was rarely about whether the look fit the character. Instead, it became another debate about whether they still looked attractive enough.

During the height of the Zhang Linghe SEA controversy, photos of his character from Our Generation were circulated to frame him as “ugly,” despite the styling clearly matching the tone of the role. The irony is that when Zhang Linghe appeared as a handsome general in an idol costume drama, they also complained that he looked too polished and unrealistic. So when he looks idealized, he gets criticized for not being believable. When he looks realistic, he gets mocked for “visual collapse.”

For Xiao Zhan, rival fandoms repeatedly used clips and stills from his film Geizhi Town to attack his appearance or push the idea that their fave had better visuals. Yet those same photos came from the exact performance that later won him Best Actor. The same scenes rival fandoms weaponized to mock his looks were also scenes that judges and critics considered strong enough to award. That contradiction says a lot. Even the material used to drag him became proof that the performance itself worked, because those visuals existed in service of a role that was critically recognized.

At this point, it feels like many superficially say acting matters more than looks, but the moment an actor steps away from glamour, the first reaction is still to judge appearance. Maybe the real issue is that audiences claim to want realism, but only when it still fits conventional beauty standards.

Photos:
Zhang Linghe in Our Generation
Wang Hedi in Light to the Night
Xu Kai in Eight Hundred
Xiao Zhan in Geizhi Town

*edited ( people -> many)

Do you think the post-95 male actor generation is genuinely struggling more than previous generations, or are expectations simply higher now?

Who do you think has truly broken through, and who still feels stuck in that awkward “popular but not fully established” stage?

This has become a hot topic in the C-drama fandom recently, with many discussions centered on whether the post-95 male actor generation has truly broken through or is stuck in an in-between stage of popularity. It all started with a ss of a ‘supposedly industry insider’ comment.

First, a quick definition. "95 male actors" or "post-95s male stars" refers to Chinese male actors born between 1995 and 1999. This generation is currently in their mid to late 20s and early 30s, caught between the idol-driven traffic system and the desire to be recognized as serious, award worthy actors.

What makes this generation interesting is that many of them are already recognizable names. They have fanbases, lead roles, brand endorsements, and decent platform visibility. Yet despite being “popular,” very few seem to have achieved a true breakthrough that shifts them into a different level of industry recognition.

A lot of discussion around this group comes down to a few recurring questions:

1. Why do so many post-95 actors remain stuck in idol drama cycles?

2. Is popularity enough to sustain a long career without awards or prestige projects?

3. Are they facing a talent gap, a resource problem, or simply bad timing within the industry?

4. Has the shrinking drama market made breakthrough opportunities rarer than before?

Some actors are commercially strong but still struggle to gain recognition in serious dramas or film circles. Others have starred in multiple lead projects but still feel like they are permanently in the “almost there” category. There are also actors who seem to have momentum for a year or two, only for the hype to disappear quickly.

At the same time, this generation is squeezed from both directions. Older actors often dominate prestige projects, while younger actors born after 2000 are entering the industry with fresh hype and increasingly strong resources.

*Translation of an ‘industry insider’ comment that is shaking the cdramaland rn:

———Start————-

"The current dilemma for post-95s male stars: Those who have already blown up lack career drive. Those who are half famous lack box office pull. Those waiting to blow up can't get popular no matter how hard they are pushed.

Already blown up: Bozi (Yibo) isn't taking on new projects. Whatever Sanzi (Wang Junkai) is doing, nobody knows. Liuyuan (Liu Haoran) and Huangya (Zhou Dongyu) are caught up in dating drama. The only ones with some career drive are Leizi (Wu Lei) and Wanghou (Wang Hedi), but their recent big budget films all flopped hard.

Half famous: Weizi (Deng Wei) and Dinghou (Ding Yuxi) went from second or third lead to first lead, and all their first lead projects flopped. Another one who relies on CP buzz, Lin, has had too many flops and can't even qualify as half famous anymore.

Waiting to blow up: Zhang Xincheng, Ao Ruipeng, Chen Zheyuan, Chen Xingxu, Zhang Linghe, Zeng Shunxi, Hou Minghao, Wang Anyu, Song Weilong — all hopeless cases who just won't take off. To be honest, anyone who has starred as the lead in three or more big dramas and still hasn't blown up never will — regardless of gender."

——-End——-

Disclaimer: The wording and viewpoints referenced here come from a circulating screenshot claiming to summarize industry-insider opinions, not my personal views. (MTL by DeepSeek)

Who do you think has benefited the most from pretty privilege in cdrama land, and do you think visuals alone were enough to sustain their career?

I’ve been seeing this discussion come up a lot lately, especially with people talking about how visuals affect the viewing experience and beauty standards in cdramas. So I’m curious where people stand: can “pretty privilege” actually carry an actor long-term, or is there always a limit?

First, let’s define it so we are on the same page. Pretty privilege means people who are seen as more attractive get more chances, attention, and benefits than others. In the entertainment industry, it means actors who fit beauty standards get more opportunities and better treatment.

This can show up as better roles, more visibility, less harsh criticism, and faster career growth, sometimes putting looks ahead of actual acting skills.

Some common patterns:

- Casting and roles: attractive actors often get bigger roles because they are seen as more marketable

- Halo effect: people may think they are more talented just because they look good

- Media focus: social media and entertainment news focus more on visuals, which affects how actors are judged

- Double standards: mistakes may be forgiven more easily, and they may not be judged as strictly

In cdrama land, visuals can help actors get lead roles faster, bring brand deals and popularity or keep them getting projects even if a drama does not do well

And let’s be real, when this topic comes up, names like Yang Yang, Yang Mi, and Dilraba Dilmurat are always mentioned. Not as hate, but because they are known for top-tier visuals and have been very visible for a long time.

Then you have newer actors like Song Weilong, Dylan Wang, Zhou Ye, Zhang Linghe, and Wang Churan who are also in their visual era, where people focus a lot on their looks and wait to see if their acting improves.

But pretty privilege is not only an advantage. It can also be a disadvantage.

Take Xiao Zhan, Ni Ni, Liu Yifei, and Hu Ge. Even when they act well, there is still a narrative that their success comes from their looks. This creates doubt about their skills and makes it feel like they always have more to prove.

Xiao Zhan also has the disadvantage of being extremely popular with a very large fandom, where a lot of his success is credited to his looks and fanbase instead of his acting.

For Hu Ge, it took more than a decade for his acting to be fully recognized, even though he had strong performances much earlier. This shows how hard it can be to move past the “visual” label.

On the other hand, actors like Yang Yang and Dilraba Dilmurat show how pretty privilege also brings constant criticism. Their acting is always under close watch.

With Yang Mi, even when she gets official recognition for her acting, the criticism about her weaker performances does not really go away.

There is also this quiet belief in C-ent that if an actor is not conventionally attractive, people focus more on their acting. You can see this with actors like Jackson Yee and Zhang Yi, where discussions are more about their performance than their looks.

This idea is sometimes even used in marketing to present someone as a serious actor, especially for actors who are not considered to have strong visuals, like Cheng Yi and Bai Jingting.