Fuzzytale

[wenella]

Apr 16 Zhu Yilong Studio: "Branches cascade over the green tiles, and the spring breeze caresses the stone walls. Stroll through the streets and alleys, and fully appreciate the vibrant spring scenery."

Happy Birthday Longge!

[fuzzytale]

How is this man always so beautiful??

[wenella]

Feb 24 Zhu Yilong Studio: "Some paths, once taken the wrong way, offer no turning back; Huang Kai stands on the other side of the light, deviating from the path every moment."

[wenella]

Feb 24 Zhu Yilong Studio DY: "Follow the footsteps of Zhu Yilong, as he enters different realms as distinct characters, writing their stories in time."

From Mo Sanmei to He Fei to Li Xiang to Abi and Huang Kai, enjoy the metamorphosis of Zhu Yilong

[wenella]

Mar 1 Zhu Yilong Studio: "Day by day, warmth fills the air, and all things grow. Embrace the spring breeze, and encounter this corner of gentle beauty. Hello, March!"

[wenella]

EN subbed vid (Feb 28): Scare Out BTS - Yang Mi is too fast for Zhu Yilong 😂

[wenella]

Mar 3 Weibo: Zhu Yilong for Buick

[wenella]

Mar 3 Zhu Yilong Weibo: "Wishing everyone a joyous Yuanxiao Festival and good health!"

[wenella]

Mar 11 XHS: BTS with Zhu Yilong

[wenella]

[vampirejuno]

People who interpret "character playlist" as "playlist of songs the character would listen to" as opposed to the good and honorable "playlist that represents the character" are so alien they're chasing me and my cat around the spaceship. That metaphor got away from me. Much like the cat

[boxoftheskyking]

Ok buddies can we not use HR for heated rivalry bc when I see someone say "I have a bone to pick with HR about the lack of visible cum" I just wanna know where the fuck you work

[ferithtolkienesque]

The Silmarillion fandom is genuinely insane. Like, you hang out on tumblr, read fic on AO3 and you think, yeah. Lots of people have read the Silmarillion. It’s Tolkien. Everyone’s read Tolkien. Barnes and Noble has a whole bunch of the HoME and also a bunch of books by people writing about the legendarium. This is mainstream, surely.

But then you actually touch grass and talk to normal people. Not even that, you talk to people who self diagnose as hard core Tolkien fans. And. None of them have read the Silmarillion. The Silmarillion is famously a book that nobody reads.

And yet. On AO3 The Silmarillion and Other Histories of Middle Earth has more works than The Lord of the Rings. Think about that. That’s baffling. It’s ridiculous. Like I realize that LotR fandom is split a bit by the movie, but still. The Silmarillion has almost four times as many fics as the LotR movies. Everybody has watched the movies!

I need to know what percentage of people who actually read the Silmarillion went on to write fic or draw fanart about it. Because it must be insane, surely. Like, I’m pretty sure the Silmarillion wins some kind of record in this department.

Thinking about the fanfic bell curve where on one end you have “Perfect, needs no improvement or elaboration” (LotR sits here) and on the other you have “So bad it’s no fun to even think about” with the middle being the fanfic zone. But I think there may be a secret fourth Silmarillion option. Which is a book that is perfect* but simultaneously non existent. It’s not even a real story! The language is super pretty and deeply incomprehensible (especially to people who, unlike me, were not raised from early childhood on both the Bible and classic literature). And it’s more of an outline and an abstract painting of cultural and world building vibes (not cultural and world building facts and information) than an actual narrative. There are story hooks galore. There are vivid and fascinating characters, but their lives are glossed over and you only get one or two paragraphs of prose that will reorder your brain chemistry and haunt you forever. There are countless more characters who only exist as names, the implication of whose existence is fascinating. All of this is deeply frustrating, both to casual readers who just want a Normal Enjoyable Book, and super fans who want All the Lore. But it is catnip to anyone who engages in transformative work.

*I am aware that not anyone who is a fan of the silm thinks it’s perfect

[wenella]

EN subbed vid (Nov 10): Defining Zhu Yilong as an adjective, a verb, and a noun

Zhu Yilong X Vogue Man Nov 2025

[wenella]

EN translation of Zhu Yilong X Vogue Man Cover Feature Interview Nov 2025 by wenella

朱一龙，一分为二

Zhu Yilong: In Two Minds

As the camera slowly moves forward, Zhu Yilong reveals two sides.

In one side, he represents himself — he is Mo Sanmei leaning wearily against the doorframe in Lighting Up the Stars, and Ma Zhe, the paranoid and deranged man in Only the River Flows. Each role grants him a different face and fate, but what truly sustains the story is his own essence: a sense of authenticity, an almost stubborn intensity of devotion. He does not rush, nor does he explain; he operates like an engine that insists on letting his character manifest naturally.

The other side evokes the once-iconic male figure of Hollywood cinema.

Zhu Yilong wears a black Chester coat and a slick vintage hairstyle, standing before a spiraling staircase backed by a wall of exposed concrete. If you are familiar with Hollywood films, you will recognize that this scene pays homage to Gattaca (1997), a sci-fi film that challenged the idea of genetic determinism.

The camera follows him as the stairs coil downward — like the double helix of DNA, a symbol of both order and the origin and end of life. He raises his head slightly, light and shadow converging in his eyes. In Zhu Yilong’s world, two spirals intertwine upward — one from cinematic fiction, the other from reality — while many of his own stories are nested in the space between these two planes.

Part 1: The Dream

When Zhu Yilong stepped onto the set, he was quickly seized by a sense of familiarity. The set, busking in light, has twisted time and fused it with his memories. He said that cinema can sometimes be magical; it can help you recall stories from certain periods of your life.

Let us return to the turn of the millennium, at Hongqi Theater in Qingshan, Wuhan. Zhu Yilong was still a primary school student.

That was his first time in a movie theater, watching the revolutionary film Sparkling Red Star (1974). He didn’t yet understand words like “character” or “acting,” only remembering the defiant look in the young protagonist’s eyes. He started to have a dream.

Years later, Gattaca became another pivotal moment for him during his university years. Looking back, he said what impressed him most was the film’s discussion of fate and imperfection. The so-called “DNA defect” does not determine whether a person is perfect, nor can it define success or failure in life.

He hadn’t expected that, years later, he would one day reenact a character from that very film. Smiling, he recalled a college anecdote: “There were nine boys in our class, four to a dorm. Because my surname starts with ‘Z’, I was placed into a room of directing students.”

That turned out to be a blessing. His roommates often watched obscure films, analyzing them frame by frame late into the night. Laughing, he said, “It’d be hard to spend eight hours watching Raging Bull now. But back then, through that slow, frame-by-frame process, I learnt so much. It was a turning point when the DNA of my acting was reshaped.”

In that dorm room, he learned the meaning of “watching.” He said that much of his intuition in acting today comes from those years. Why did a director shoot something that way? Can a certain shot carry another meaning? Over time, his body learns to take note of these rhythms. He believes that “relaxation” is not laziness, but awareness; it is a process of bringing all sensations back to the body.

“I love movies because they are about building dreams. They don’t just record reality; they turn dreams into reality.” Over the years, Zhu Yilong has gradually come to understand another layer of what building dreams means: the coexistence of technique and intuition. “The techniques that we learnt in school are tools that help us transition into the industry smoothly. Things like how to turn your head before the camera, when to pause, how to find rhythm. They help you get into character faster during auditions.” He paused, then added, “But once you truly start creating as an actor, you have to unlearn those ‘correct’ methods. Every emotion is different; there’s no fixed formula for acting. You have to follow your inner voice.”

Zhu Yilong enjoys rewatching films that draw him in completely, like The Godfather and Goodfellas. Those performances, he said, feel almost instinctive. “When an actor fully relaxes and merges with the character, their reactions on camera are the most authentic. It is hard to achieve that state, but I admire it deeply.” He also knows that such an ideal state cannot be forced. “Film is a collective creation. The person you imagine when reading the script and the one you see after shooting may be entirely different. You have to let time test whether that character is what you had envisioned.”

Perhaps this is Zhu Yilong’s own “spiral”: from the lights and shadow of his childhood cinema, to the frame-by-frame film analysis in his college dorm, to the awareness and balance he finds on set. Each loop circles back to the same point. Dreaming, being carried away by dreams, and then rebuilding them with his own hands once more.

Part 2: The Leverage

Michael Nyman’s original score for Gattaca played on loop at our shooting location.

Zhu Yilong stood on the staircase where light and shadow intertwined, his fingers gently resting on the handrail, his expression composed and focused, as if waiting for an emotion to find its landing point. If “building dreams” was his first emotional connection with cinema, then “leverage” is how he understands balance in acting. Zhu Yilong says that true acting isn’t about “what you’re thinking,” but about “how deeply you can relax.”

“When your whole body is completely relaxed, it begins to feel the environment naturally, your co-actors, and the plot’s circumstances. At that moment, you don’t have time to think about anything. Every reaction you have is your body acting on your behalf.” He said that what he cherishes most during filming are those “instinctive, physical reactions.” Once he fully enters a role, the flow of emotion no longer follows a predetermined path; it becomes as natural as breathing. “We often talk about how to act a crying scene, or how to portray repression. But those aren’t the key. Once you relax to a certain point, the emotion will arrive on its own.”

Grasp a point, leverage its force, act without strain, then relax again. Zhu Yilong often describes acting as a “search for equilibrium.” It must be steady yet light. “Once you reach a certain level of proficiency, everything you’ve trained for has become part of your body. You don’t need to use it consciously; it just emerges naturally.”

He rarely talks about ideal roles, or career plans. “Each project should be something I truly want to perform at that moment.” It’s not that he doesn’t know that there are “safer” choices that could secure his reputation or cater to the mainstream market. Rather, he prefers to choose what interests him, even if the outcome is uncertain.

“You can never really predict what audiences will like. If I’d made decisions based purely on market taste, maybe I wouldn’t have filmed Lighting Up the Stars, or Lost in the Stars. Would making those choices guarantee success? Not necessarily. But at least every project I’ve done was one I genuinely cared about.” He said this lightly, but with a quiet conviction.

Zhu Yilong is in no rush to define himself. When asked, “What kind of actor do you want to be?” he laughs and says, “I don’t want to be defined by any one type, because cinema knows no boundaries.” To him, an actor’s job is not to follow trends, but to preserve a sense of authenticity in a constantly shifting world. That, perhaps, is his art of balance - the ability to remain true and grounded amid change.

On the day of the cover shoot, he walked down to the final step of the staircase. At the instant the shutter clicked, his hand once again fell naturally on the railing. Gripping the rail was an instinctive motion, yet it helped to capture the perfect frame within 1/24 of a second.

Part 3: The Placement

During the recent National Day holiday, Zhu Yilong picked up golf again and found a new sense of understanding and interest in it.

At first, he found golf rather dull. There was no competition, no rush of adrenaline; by the time a round was over, he felt as though time had simply slipped away. What a waste. But after a few early-morning games, he realized that the time he thought was“lost,” was, in fact, being reclaimed through the rhythm of the sport. He said that years of work had made him overlook the duration of daylight. “I tend to focus on movies, books, and scripts at night. I concentrate the best after dark. But staying up late for an extended period means that you are wasting daytime. When you wake up late, your day becomes highly compressed.”

Golf changed that for him; it made him reappreciate time. “A friend dragged me to the course. From the first swing to the end of the game, I looked at my watch and saw it was only just past ten. The feeling of having done something substantial, yet the day still stretches ahead, felt refreshing.”

Zhu Yilong also noticed something interesting: during those four hours on the course, he almost never looked at his phone. His gaze shifted from the close-up glow of a screen to the endless expanse of green grass and trees. The wind brushed over his head, and the world seemed to slow down. It became gentler and quieter.

Golf is unlike any other sport he had loved before. He used to enjoy basketball, a game of confrontation and sudden bursts of energy. Golf, by contrast, was an extended conversation with himself. “It seems repetitive, but every swing is different. Your stance, your balance, your inner state - everything changes the outcome. If you mess up one shot, you have to let it go; otherwise, the next one will be affected too.”

Eighteen holes, four hours. He must constantly adjust his body. “It made me realize that I’m really wrestling with myself. I’m not hitting the ball. I’m testing my focus.”

His life, too, has gradually taken shape under this rhythm. When he’s not filming, he goes to the company, chats with friends about scripts, watches movies, and exchanges ideas. Sometimes after a film, they’ll eat together and talk, not just about creative work, but also about life. “I like this state,” Zhu Yilong said. “It’s not driven by a sense of purpose, yet I can feel myself moving forward, little by little. Life is like that too. We all have to find our own point of landing.”

Part 4: The Revolving

At the end of the interview, the conversation returned to the topic of “perfection and imperfection” in acting.

Zhu Yilong kept silent for a long time, before he explained honestly that the answers he finds as an actor and as a viewer are not the same.

From the former's perspective, both performances and works are not measured by immediate feedback, but rather by their ability to endure and be validated over time. In reality, whenever he revisits his past work, he can feel the mark of its era and its limitations. “When we were filming, many of the performances in front of the camera felt perfect to me. But after time passes, I start to see all sorts of problems.” For actors, then, perfection in film and performance is fleeting.

But from the latter’s perspective, things are different. A film lasting just a few hours that can make people laugh and cry with its characters. That, in itself, is perfect enough. He recalled how, as a student, he had watched the works of Martin Scorsese, Quentin Tarantino, and Takeshi Kitano with awe and reverence.

Zhu Yilong noted that in today’s fast-paced world, phones and short videos have broken down old barriers of information, bringing new challenges to cinema. When he meets with friends, they often share this same anxiety. But over time, he says he’s come to understand that the source of perfection still lies in the content itself: to make good stories, to create images that feel worthwhile.

He cannot predict how people will judge him in the future. What he hopes for is simple: to be remembered as an actor. “That there was once an actor named Zhu Yilong. That’s enough.”

Such is the course of human destiny: DNA writes the beginning, but what follows must be written by human effort.

During the shoot, one frame was captured: Zhu Yilong wearing glasses, one lens shattered, the other flawless. Through the lens, his gaze was unwavering. If DNA symbolizes the origin and continuation of fate, then Zhu Yilong’s present and future lie in finding his own way of interaction within the spirals of acting and life. It is not the pursuit of an illusory perfection, but the realization of an authentic self.

**THE END**

[wenella]

Nov 7 Zhu Yilong Studio: “The Start of Winter bids farewell to autumn, as all things begin to store for the season. Sharing a set of street snapshots of Zhu Yilong. Wishing everyone a joyful winter; stay warm and take care!”

[wenella]

Oct 27 Zhu Yilong Studio: "A silent narrative unfolds, crossing time and space, spreading across a realm of ease. Step into Zhu Yilong’s Vogue World moment."

[wenella]

Oct 27 Zhu Yilong Studio: "Serene on the surface, luminous within — all eyes are drawn effortlessly to Zhu Yilong."