Recently, the 3rd Beijing Online Audiovisual Art Conference officially kicked off, attracting a number of celebrities including familiar faces like Xiao Zhan, Bai Lu, and Zhang Linghe. Amid the sea of stars, it was Li Landi who quietly captured the spotlight with her graceful presence.
Dressed in a white blazer shirt paired with black trousers, her sleek, long black hair gave off an elegant and refined aura. Her makeup was light and natural, enhancing a sense of composure and freshness. Sitting calmly among the crowd, she exuded a serene poise that resonated with many viewers.
Online commenters couldn’t help but draw comparisons:
“She looks like the heroine from a ‘high-ranking family’ web novel.”
“This must be what beauty looked like during the economic boom 20 years ago.”
In Chinese internet literature, the “高干文” (high-ranking cadre novel) genre typically features protagonists from privileged families with strong backgrounds. These heroines are calm, confident, and grounded—traits that Li Landi seemed to embody effortlessly at the event.
Her posture was upright, her eyes steady, and she carried a quiet confidence, free from the usual rush to please the camera or fight for attention. The understated makeup and styling only amplified her natural charm, proving that true presence doesn’t need to be loud.
Li Landi is no stranger to audiences. She first gained fame for her role as Yu Zhouzhou in My Huckleberry Friends (《你好，旧时光》), where she played a pure, innocent schoolgirl. With a touch of baby fat on her cheeks, she captured the sweetness and confusion of adolescence and became many people’s “campus goddess.”
However, she later faced criticism for looking “puffy” in period costume during Dream Back to the Qing Dynasty (《梦回大清》). Questions were raised about her suitability for historical roles, and it was likely a challenging period for her.
But as is often said—an actor proves themselves through their work. Last year, Li Landi played Li Mujia in Bright Future (《一路朝阳》), a regular young woman trying to make it in Beijing. She portrayed the character’s vulnerability, stubbornness, frustration, and perseverance with convincing detail. Her performance, especially the scenes where she held back tears, won her renewed praise and marked a strong comeback.
This summer, she’s taking on the role of Qin Wan, a female forensic doctor in ancient times, in the upcoming series Records of Frost and Snow (《朝雪录》). Judging from stills and preview clips, she seems to have undergone a transformation—her gaze is cooler, more composed, and deeply professional. Once criticized for her “round face,” that very feature is now being seen as a strength, breaking the mold of the “slim, fair, and youthful” beauty standard.
The phrase “beauty from the economic boom era” may sound nostalgic, but it captures something real: a kind of unhurried, confident beauty that doesn’t rely on flashy appearances or forced appeal. It’s reminiscent of a time when public figures seemed calmer, more grounded, and content to simply be.
Perhaps Li Landi’s current aura is the result of her own journey—rising from a child star, facing public doubt, and slowly regaining her footing through diverse roles and steady growth. And in this sense of inner calm, she’s never looked more radiant.
