The last two years in the drama market have felt like a desert: too many misses, too few real hits.
When it comes to the industry's definition of who can "carry a drama" (扛剧, means recognition from producers and platforms, not just fan hype), producers and platforms are becoming much more cautious.
Compared to the so-called "traffic stars" whose pulling power is always in a Schrödinger's cat state—sometimes effective, sometimes an illusion—the top actresses who have built their status step by step through solid works are generally seen as the real deal when it comes to carrying a show.
But in just one year, even this assumption has been shaken hard by the turbulence of the market. This rundown isn't about crowning or dismissing anyone—it's about looking closely at how these actresses are holding up in the storm: what they still have in hand, and what is slipping through their fingers.
Yang Zi and Zhao Liying: Invincible Status?
If we're talking about who still has an "unbroken golden body" (metaphor for a stable, almost invincible status), from the '85 generation to the post-2000s, it really feels like only Yang Zi (杨紫) and Zhao Liying (赵丽颖) remain.
Zhao Liying's The Legend of Shen Li (与凤行) was the last proud flag planted by an '85 actress in the xianxia genre. Everything that came after—Fox Spirit Matchmaker: Red-Moon Pact (狐妖小红娘·月红篇), A Moment But Forever (念无双), Kill My Sin (掌心), Love in Pavilion (淮水竹亭)—pretty much burned down the playground for the rest of the '85 flowers. It slammed the door shut for older actresses still hoping to survive in costume idol dramas. Message received: it's time to pivot.
But then came What a Wonderful World (在人间). Its numbers cast a bit of a shadow over Zhao's otherwise clean retreat from costume idol dramas. Director Xu Bing's overconfidence and self-indulgence carry most of the blame, but the point of a "drama-carrying" actress is that she can prop up the hype at launch and maintain baseline viewership even when the show itself underdelivers. In that sense, the show's barely-over-10-million views did dent her reputation a bit. Thankfully, it's still just one miss for now.
The roles Zhao thrives in tend to be grassroots, instinctive, impulsive—characters with a raw vitality rooted in the soil. They move from the gut, not from calculation. That's why shows like The Legend of Shen Li, The Story of Xing Fu (幸福到万家), and Wild Bloom (风吹半夏) clicked, while Who Is the Murderer (谁是凶手) and She’s Got No Name (酱园弄) fell flat. The closer the character is to that "wild and grounded" zone, the more her star power translates into carrying strength. Once she drifts toward the margins, like in The Story of Minglan (知否), then it depends heavily on the ensemble cast and overall directing to keep things afloat.
Yang Zi's case is different. Ever since she dove into idol dramas, she hasn't headlined a serious mainstream drama outside that lane. Her effectiveness is obvious if you plot her projects on a chart of "idol drama purity vs. performance." The more pure the idol drama, the better the numbers: Lost You Forever (长相思), Go Go Squid! (亲爱的,热爱的), Ashes of Love (香蜜). The less pure, the weaker the response: Psychologist (女心理师), Love Endures (要久久爱).
Part of it is because her transition from child star to leading actress was built on idol dramas, so that's the space where audiences both recognize and accept her. But more importantly, idol dramas require actors who can deliver emotional fullness and intensity—and Yang Zi is really strong here. She has impact. Yes, people mock her for "using the same three tricks," but let's be real: in C-dramas, 95% of idol actors haven't even mastered those three tricks.
So, as I've summed up before: Yang Zi's verified "carrying zone" is stories drenched in emotion—intense love and hate, deep devotion, gut-wrenching heartbreak. That's why her historical idol dramas have done better than her modern ones. The only real stumble was splitting Lost You Forever into two parts (which cut the momentum). Whether she can still hold up a drama outside that heavy-emotion idol lane will be tested when Family Legacy (家业) and Tree of Life (生命树) are released.
And since this whole discussion is about "female leads who can carry a drama" , of course the main expectation is that they carry idol dramas. When we look at their performance outside that zone, it's really just to measure how well they're handling their transition.
Zhao Lusi, Esther Yu, Bai Lu: Shaken Up?
Two or three years ago, if you asked who might become the next generation of drama-carrying actresses, Zhao Lusi (赵露思), Esther Yu (虞书欣), and Bai Lu (白鹿) would've been the safest picks.
But the past year has reshuffled things.
Zhao Lusi actually had the strongest hand. Her direct predecessor Zhao Liying started as the "sweet girl" type but shifted into tougher, more grounded roles once she was established, leaving the "sweet heroine" market open. With her naturally round face and soft look, Zhao Lusi was a perfect fit. After her breakout in The Romance of Tiger and Rose (传闻中的陈芊芊), she kept stacking up sweet-girl roles and climbed steadily to the top tier among post-95 actresses.
And in idol dramas, the "round-faced sweet heroine" is an evergreen demand. Zhao's projects that leaned into this—Dating in the Kitchen (我,喜欢你), The Long Ballad (长歌行), Love Like the Galaxy (星汉灿烂), Hidden Love (偷偷藏不住)—all scored strong results. Whenever she went against her natural type and comfort zone, like in Who Rules the World (且试天下), Gen Z (后浪), or The Story of Pearl Girl (珠帘玉幕), the results were inevitably poor.
That alone wouldn't have been fatal—miscasting can always be corrected with another sweet-girl hit. But instead of sticking to her strength, she pivoted under pressure from being mocked online as a "plain-looking girl" , changing her styling and even her entire vibe by nearly 180 degrees. In the process, she undercut the very foundation of her appeal.
Worse still was the drama around her health-related hiatus and lightning-fast return. To producers, she now carries the one thing capital hates most: massive uncertainty. Few are eager to gamble on her right now.
By comparison, Esther Yu has always been clear about her strengths. Her challenge isn't confusion but limitation.
Her career track is straightforward: she broke out with the role of Cai Minmin in Find Yourself (下一站是幸福), blew up with Love Between Fairy and Devil (苍兰诀), and after a dip, climbed back to the top with Love Game in Eastern Fantasy (永夜星河). Every one of these characters matched perfectly with the personal brand she showed during Youth With You 2 exaggerated, bubbly cuteness.
For some, that over-the-top cuteness is annoying. For others, it's her unique charm. The fit of the role matters: the more fantastical the setting and the less grounded the plot, the better it plays to her style. When the background is too realistic, the clash is obvious—exactly why Ski into Love (国王在冬眠) flopped.
From the moment Esther Yu started gaining attention in the drama world, she was walking a very narrow and very controversial path. A strong personal style is a blessing when you're on the rise—it gets you noticed and talked about quickly. But once you need to consolidate your position, that same style can turn into a weakness. With too distinct a style, your role options shrink, and audiences burn out faster. On top of that, her "if people say I'm fake, I'll just be even more over-the-top" attitude only sharpens the line between those who like her and those who can't stand her, making the debate around her louder.
That's why she matches so well with producer Wang Yixu. It's not just that both share a love for "baby-style fantasy aesthetics". More importantly, Wang Yixu has an entire production system built to support that vibe, which makes the end product feel coherent instead of embarrassing. If you compare Love Game in Eastern Fantasy with Sword and Fairy (祈今朝)—both with relatively juvenile plots—you can see the difference in how much better her style is contained within the right environment.
Compared with her, Bai Lu's career took a different route. She built her presence step by step by playing second lead alongside male stars with strong followings.
In 2020's Love Is Sweet (半是蜜糖半是伤), she acted opposite Luo Yunxi, who was still riding the Ashes of Love wave. In 2021, One and Only (周生如故) and Forever and Ever (一生一世) paired her with Ren Jialun, whose career had resurged thanks to Under the Power (锦衣之下). In 2023, Till the End of the Moon (长月烬明) reunited her with Luo Yunxi, and then she finally headlined her own successful drama, Story of Kunning Palace (宁安如梦). That marked the moment she was recognized as a true leading actress.
Zhao Lusi also worked with a big-name actor—Yang Yang—but her breakthrough didn't rely on that. Bai Lu's trajectory, though, gave her a specific advantage: by being a Keep Running regular, she quickly built broad visibility among general audiences, which in turn boosted her dramas.
Pointing out this career path isn't meant to undermine her current status, but it does highlight a core issue: the lack of a clearly defined role identity.
Sure, the red-robed rooftop jump scene from One and Only went viral. But if you ask audiences what the unique traits or inner essence of that character were, most would struggle to answer. The same is true for her leads in Till the End of the Moon, Love Game in Eastern Fantasy, and even this year's weaker Moonlight Mystique (白月梵星) and The Feud (临江仙). Too often, her characters feel pieced together rather than fully realized.
As a result, when people think of Bai Lu, what comes to mind are generic xianxia clips—characters spitting blood, stabbing each other, unleashing flashy powers—or her hearty laughs on variety shows. It feels like she can play anything, but nothing stands out as truly hers.
And when she's the sole lead, that becomes a problem. Whether in fantasy or in more serious dramas, viewers are open to giving her shows a try, but it's harder to keep them hooked when the performance feels "not distinctive," "not sharp," "not clearly defined."
Over the past year, all three of these would-be successors—Zhao Lusi, Esther Yu, Bai Lu—have had setbacks. Each has reasons that partly explain their stumbles, and none of their careers are over. The road ahead is long; let's see how they walk it.
Chen Duling, Meng Ziyi, Song Zuer, and others—Taking Turns at the Throne?
Compared with the lucky few mentioned earlier, most 90s- and 95-born actresses are still taking turns in this trial of leading dramas, with no one truly breaking out.
Chen Duling (陈都灵) fans argued that The Glory (雁回时) proved she could carry a drama alone, only for The Excellence (翘楚) to hit back as a flat-performing project. A "flat" rating clearly signals that the platform does not recognize her solo leading capability at this level. Still, Chen Duling's unique "little white flower" charm has at least earned her a foothold in the drama world. She's upgraded her popularity, but cementing herself as a top lead requires more effort.
Fans of Meng Ziyi (孟子义) also argued that Blossom (九重紫) was her showcase, yet that drama's success owed more to the director and the chemistry of the leads. Her follow-up S+ project, Princess Shang (尚公主), pushed for a second pairing, showing industry caution over her solo S+ potential. Meanwhile, the flop of The Princess's Gambit (桃花映江山) raised doubts about her drama scale and stability. Another obstacle for Meng Ziyi becoming a top lead is her too-modern face, which may not fully suit historical or fantasy romance dramas.
After two years of lying low, Song Zuer (宋祖儿) returned aggressively, proving through two historical-romance dramas that she still belongs in the upper echelon of 95-born leads. She's prettier than many who act worse, and more skilled than many who are prettier. Her new projects signal she has passed the crisis temporarily, but unresolved negative perceptions remain a potential threat to her rise.
Zhang Jingyi (张婧仪) and Zhou Ye (周也), both starting strong and maintaining a steady presence, have yet to find their own definitive paths. Each has standout looks and some notable roles, yet both are gradually losing sparkle and novelty in a succession of mediocre idol dramas. When will they establish routes that fully showcase their individuality, no longer letting their beauty go to waste?
Tian Xiwei (田曦薇), once a strong contender among round-faced sweet girls, was criticized as "fake sweet" from the beginning. She has had hot dramas and representative roles, but no truly solid leading-drama achievement.
Guan Xiaotong (关晓彤), once the frontrunner among 95-born actresses, has fallen to the back of the pack. Maintaining her position against continuous decline is already a challenge, and her return to the idol market depends on Dazzling. Li Landi (李兰迪), similarly, has both looks and acting skill but lacks a bit of popular appeal. Her forced hit Coroner's Diary (朝雪录) seemed to contradict her cold-girl image, but with the current weighting of platform metrics (iQIYI popularity), her journey may have just begun.
Wang Churan (王楚然), recently heavily criticized by her own fans, has only just begun recovering from Fireworks of My Heart' (人间烟火) major flop. She's gained attention from pre-release glimpses, but the real test will be when the drama airs. Ju Jingyi (鞠婧祎), whose reputation as a drama carrier was shattered by The Legend of Sword and Fairy 4 (仙剑4), then further exposed by In Blossom(花间令), may now attempt a rebound through collaborations with Guo Jingming and Wang Yixu, potentially turning negatives into positives.
All these actresses have finally reached the level where they can star in an S+ drama, yet they coincided with a market slump for long-form series. Time is running short.
In this era, idol actresses rotate endlessly, and no one truly takes the lead. Is it that this generation is especially underqualified?
At least, it's that this generation's projects are particularly poor.
Usually, the status and charm of a drama-carrying actress comes from the accumulation of memorable characters. But with the current long dramas either mass-produced or chopped into short segments, audiences scrolling short videos may not even remember which project a clip came from. Expecting viewers to recall characters from such content is like chasing fish in a tree.
Conversely, such low-quality projects don't require actors capable of shaping fully realized, distinctive, star-powered characters. The blurrier the face and performance, the easier it is for capital to shuffle and swap romantic pairings.
When projects are unconditional and capital gives no encouragement, only then does it make sense to debate personal talent and effort.
The current state of the entertainment industry is like a badly played chessboard. Already-established top drama actresses cannot truly escape the game, while the rest struggle in a very limited space.
