The recent snapshot shared by Deng Chao (邓超) ignited social media—a seemingly simple picture of three men shoulder-to-shoulder, chopsticks poised over a simmering hotpot. Yet this frame held ten years of unwritten history.
Deng, Lu Han, and Chen He, once the chaotic core of Keep Running, now mirrored their 2015 personas in 2025 attire: Deng’s receding hairline, Lu’s sharpened cheekbones from touring, Chen’s steadfast belly. Their grins, however, remained untouched by time. "Just being together," Deng captioned, echoing a bond that transformed from scripted banter to unbreakable kinship. This wasn’t reunion; it was continuity.
Keep Running Days
"Captain Deng," "Silly Deer Lu," and "Chen the Schemer"—their 2015 debut on Keep Running was pure comedic chemistry. They hurled mud, sabotaged challenges, and groaned through missions, crafting TV gold from chaos. Audiences adored their friction-turned-friendship, a dynamic where Lu’s earnestness balanced Deng’s leadership and Chen’s wit. Few predicted these "variety show brothers" would outlast the program itself.
Their early bickering masked deepening respect. Lu, the youngest, absorbed Deng’s protective instincts; Chen’s pranks became a language of affection. During a water-balloon fight, Deng shielded Lu from a direct hit while Chen "accidentally" tripped the attacker. These moments built an unspoken pact: rivalry on-screen, loyalty off it.
By Season 3, their synergy was legend. During a spy mission, Chen discreetly passed Lu a clue despite being on opposing teams. When Deng injured his ankle mid-chase, both rivals halted to carry him. The audience roared—not just at the antics, but the authenticity brewing beneath.
Brotherhood Forged in Adversity
The first test came in 2017. Deng collapsed on a film set, requiring spinal surgery. Lu, leveraging private medical networks, secured specialists within hours. Chen canceled a commercial shoot, flying overnight to plant himself at Deng’s hospital bedside. "He complained about my snoring," Deng later joked, "but never left."
2020 saw Lu Han engulfed in online vitriol after a livestream controversy. Silence from others; not from Deng and Chen. They flooded social media with throwback photos: Lu mid-laugh on "Keep Running," Lu grinning over hotpot. "That laugh? We know it best," Chen wrote. Deng added: "Always our deer." The storm calmed; their defiance spoke louder than hate.
Their 2023 travel show Ha Ha Ha revealed the bond’s maturity. Stranded in a desert, they shared one water bottle without debate. Deng mused to cameras: "Ten years—we’ve gone from brothers to family." Chen nodded; Lu smiled. No script needed.
The Unspoken Language: A Bond That Defies Time
Modern glimpses of their kinship thrive in subtlety. Since 2023, all three adopted matching Weibo avatars: a desert shot from Ha Ha Ha, windswept and beaming. Fans dubbed it "friendship’s living fossil." When Lu’s Shanghai concert sparked health concerns ("Too thin!"), Chen livestreamed reassurance: "He’s fine—just passionate." Deng’s viral photo strategically captured Lu’s stronger profile.
Fan culture embraced them too. After Lu’s supporters donated to a hearing-impaired café in the trio’s name, the shop posted: "Thanks to ‘family’—your bond’s sweeter than coffee." Deng replied: "Brothers do meaningful things together."
The ultimate callback looms: Lu’s July 4-5 Qingdao concerts. Old clips resurface—Deng’s 2015 vow on "Keep Running": "Next concert? We three share the stage." Six years later, anticipation soars. Will "We are family" echo live? For fans, it’s destiny delayed, not denied.
From mud pits to microphone stands, Deng, Lu, and Chen redefined brotherhood in an industry of fleeting alliances. Their journey whispers a truth louder than variety show slogans: real kinship needs no performance—just presence. As Qingdao’s stage lights prepare to shine, a decade’s promise simmers, ready to boil over.
