A month ago, Zhao Lusi made headlines due to a contract dispute with her agency. At the time, her emotional outburst on social media came across as chaotic and impulsive, with no clear explanation of the situation. The internet quickly filled with mockery.
Netizens began comparing her to fellow post-95 actress Esther Yu. Unlike Zhao, Esther managed to part ways with her company smoothly, even flooding the media with positive coverage that painted her as “mentally resilient.” The contrast was striking: Zhao was labeled “unstable,” while Esther appeared calm and composed. Esther even trended for her “peaceful termination,” a moment that felt almost like salt rubbed into Zhao’s wounds. Whether it was pushed by marketing accounts or purchased exposure remains unclear, but public opinion at the time leaned heavily in Esther’s favor.
Fast forward one month, and the narrative has quietly shifted. Although Zhao Lusi briefly stirred controversy in a livestream for remarks interpreted as targeting her peers, the storm soon subsided. She has since reemerged at brand events, achieving over 200,000 livestream views and generating a string of positive reports. Fans lined up for five hours and crowded six floors just to see her in person, proving her popularity remains at top-tier levels. While her emotional ups and downs are still visible, the public has become more forgiving, acknowledging her struggles with depression and noting that she carries no damaging scandals from the past.
Esther Yu, meanwhile, has found herself in a tougher spot. Her family background became the subject of scrutiny, criticized by finance blogger Lao Pan Caishang and industry peer Zhang Haoyue. In late August, she was still highly visible—flying abroad for variety shows, posting cheerful selfies from Thailand, and maintaining an image of carefree normalcy. But shortly afterward, she disappeared from the spotlight. Her new drama was delayed, her social media went silent for too long, and even her account stopped showing location details. Fans grew restless, repeatedly calling for her return.
Her commercial prospects have also cooled. Although no brands have formally cut ties, advertisements she filmed remain unacknowledged, and new endorsements have yet to materialize. During the height of the controversy, she opted for a “soft approach”—posting polished photos, hosting cheerful gatherings, and tightly controlling comments. But when criticism intensified, she chose silence. If the accusations were baseless, she could have clarified them directly. Instead, the silence left an impression of guilt, making the fallout harder to contain. Some fans grew disappointed, even dropping support, and the price of her merchandise began to fall.
This contrast reveals a deeper truth: so-called “inner strength” cannot be manufactured through PR or media spin. It must rest on personal integrity and resilience. Zhao Lusi, though fragile in appearance, endured cyberbullying, illness, and agency conflict head-on, which ironically highlighted her genuine toughness. Esther Yu’s carefully curated “serene image,” on the other hand, has weakened under the weight of overexposure.
In an industry where reputations shift overnight, one thing remains constant: true strength is proven not by marketing campaigns but by the ability to withstand storms.
