I used to have a very shallow understanding of what a “top star” truly was.
I believed it meant a beautiful face blessed by luck, amplified by the devotion of passionate fans.
And honestly, there’s nothing wrong with loving beauty—everyone does.
But that belief was shattered the moment I watched Gezhi Town.
The film opens with a grimy man in worn, coarse clothing emerging from thick smoke.
His first instinct is not to run but to shield a child—
stuffing him into a pickle jar to hide, while he himself curls beneath a filthy cotton quilt, trembling uncontrollably.
My friend nudged me and whispered,
“That’s Xiao Zhan.”
I froze.
I truly couldn’t recognize him.
And at that moment, I realized—
my previous assumptions were nothing but arrogance.
People often call him a “top-tier holdout,” implying a hidden question:
Why him?
Why, in an industry where popularity shifts like sand, can he remain standing at the peak?
After watching this film, I finally understood:
He doesn’t rely on fan enthusiasm—he builds his throne with his work.
He is not playing a craftsman—he becomes one.
Director Kong Sheng originally didn’t want someone “too handsome.”
He wanted an actor who could disappear in a crowd,
someone ordinary, unnoticed.
But something in Xiao Zhan’s eyes—
a purity, a quiet transparency—
made the director change his mind.
That was precisely the soul of Mo Dexian, the character he would portray.
So Xiao Zhan dove headfirst into a real blacksmith’s workshop in western Hubei,
swinging a genuine hammer for three months.
Not to pretend he had calluses—
but to actually grow them.
He cut his hair, covered himself in grease and dust,
and trained his posture, breath, and movements
to reflect the survival instinct of someone living at society’s lowest rungs.
He wasn’t acting beautifully.
He was disappearing completely.
The scene that shook me to the core
When the invaders strip away the last of what he has,
this timid, trembling man lets out a guttural scream,
raises his hammer,
and charges.
His arm shakes wildly—
not with bravery,
but with fear and rage tangled together in a final, desperate eruption.
That moment made me forget he was Xiao Zhan.
All I saw was Mo Dexian—
an ordinary metalworker fighting for the only thing he has left: his family.
That raw imperfection
is what gives Gezhi Town its soul.
A stunningly believable transformation
Xiao Zhan captures Mo Dexian’s emotional arc with astonishing precision:
from fear and confusion, to helplessness,
and finally to the explosive awakening of a man pushed to the absolute edge.
It is restrained, layered, painfully real.
And this performance proves something important:
This is the finest acting of his career so far.
Even professional critics say so—
praising it as a rare, courageous moment where he completely sheds the “idol image.”
Why can he remain a “top-tier holdout”?
Because while others chase fame,
he chooses craftsmanship.
In the film, the phrase “made with care” symbolizes responsibility—
an artisan engraving his soul into every piece he forges.
And that’s exactly what Xiao Zhan does with his career:
He does not rely on hype.
He does not rely on luck.
He relies on the weight of his roles.
When a top star can make you forget his real identity
for two hours in a dark theater,
when you only see a trembling man holding a hammer—
that is the true qualification.
The film ended.
Outside, the world was loud as ever.
Trends had probably shifted again.
But the image of that man on screen—
shaking, desperate, human—
stayed with me.
Because Xiao Zhan has carved himself, carefully and deliberately,
into a deeper, more enduring place.
That is why he stands firm.
That is the real weight of a top star.
