At 6:00 AM, at a resort in Zhengzhou, Yuan Jiyi, 72 years old, sat before a mirror. Today, he was portraying a white-haired Taoist priest, clad in a robe, holding a fly whisk with a calm demeanor.

Despite having only more than 10 lines, he and his co-star had to reshoot repeatedly throughout the morning in the 8 degrees Celsius cold.

Yuan in a short film. Photo: Global People

Around 2020, as the wave of vertical short dramas exploded in China, Yuan became an in-demand face. Thanks to his benevolent appearance and accumulated experience, he was frequently cast in specific roles such as corporate chairman, miracle doctor, professor, or esteemed elder. Appearing in over 100 films, audiences affectionately call him the "king of short films" or the "CEO of short films".

However, the glamour of acting comes with considerable hardship, especially for someone in his seventies. Besides enduring the cold, he once had to wear 4 layers of period costumes while filming under the scorching summer sun at the Yellow River beach, almost fainting from heatstroke.

He compared the wig, tightly bound to his head for hours, causing pain, to Sun Wukong's "golden fillet" (a magical headband from Chinese mythology). Declining memory is also a challenge. He often writes his lines in large print on paper, rehearsing them whenever and wherever possible, even while babysitting his grandchildren. Despite this, Yuan's family views this as a source of pride and an opportunity for him to earn additional income.

Yuan appearing as a short film CEO. Photo: Global People

Born in Wuhan, Yuan lost his father at a young age and his mother was paralyzed, forcing him to struggle to make a living before becoming an engineer at a local factory. In 2009, he and his wife moved to Zhengzhou to live near their son. Though he yearned for art in his youth but had no opportunity, it was only after retirement that he began studying dance, painting, vocal music, and Tai chi at a senior center.

The opportunity arose when a retired performing arts troupe introduced him to performing. He began with guest roles in advertisements and propaganda films.

For this former engineer, acting is his greatest joy in his later years. He often reviews his scenes to learn from them, constantly striving to improve his acting. "Age may lead to retirement, but it doesn't mean stopping a meaningful life", Yuan said.

Yuan's story is a testament to China's "new elderly" generation – individuals willing to re-enter the workforce, seeking spiritual fulfillment rather than viewing retirement as an end point.

Nhat Minh (according to Global People, cnjiwang)