In the dazzling world of Chinese showbiz, stories of actresses marrying into wealth are all too common. But few choose to spend their lives with ordinary people, away from the spotlight. Liu Lin is one of those rare few. Her decision once raised countless questions: Why him, of all people?
To understand that choice, we must rewind to a darker chapter in her life. During her three-year entanglement with director Zhang Li, Liu Lin gave everything for love—putting her career on hold, tolerating infidelity, and even choosing to terminate two pregnancies for his sake. But when rumors of Zhang Li’s relationship with actress Liu Bei (刘蓓) surfaced, he turned away without hesitation. That heartbreak pushed Liu Lin to the brink of depression, until her close friend Mei Ting offered a wake-up call: “There are 3.5 billion men in this world—why cling to a withered branch?”
Then came a quiet twist of fate. A humble, unknown photographer entered her life—not a man with fame or fortune, but one who offered steady presence and deep care. To him, Liu Lin was the love of his life. With actions, not words, he built the idea that home is a harbor that never withdraws.
After marriage, this seemingly ordinary family provided warmth that far outweighed material wealth. Her in-laws treated her as their own daughter. Her husband willingly stepped into the role of a supportive stay-at-home partner so Liu Lin could pursue her career. When she decided to have a child at the age of 38—despite the risks—they stood firmly behind her, building a wall of protection around her.
More importantly, her husband truly understood her passion for acting. Even when concerned about the dangers of a late pregnancy, he respected her wish to “accumulate life experience for future roles,” and after childbirth, he took full responsibility for childcare so she could return to work.
This emotional support allowed Liu Lin’s career to reach new heights. From the plain but resilient Jiang Dehua in All Is Well (父母爱情), to the adorably naïve yet sharp “Big Madam” in The Story of Minglan (知否知否应是绿肥红瘦), to the emotionally twisted Zhou Chunhong in The Bad Kids (隐秘的角落), Liu Lin infused every supporting role with soul and nuance. Netizens created memes in her honor, and her appearance on the CCTV Spring Festival Gala spotlighted her nationwide popularity as China’s “National Mom.”
Behind this success stands the same quiet man—cooking soup, changing diapers, and taking care of their home—never seeking recognition, always offering unwavering support.
Looking back, her two relationships mirror each other in contrast. The first was a reckless chase that left her emotionally drained. The second, a grounded choice forged in daily routines, turned to gold over time. In an industry obsessed with “marrying rich,” Liu Lin’s story offers another truth: the greatest luxury in life isn’t wealth or status—but a light that’s always on when you come home late at night.
