Top Stars Stripping Down, Divas Heading to the Countryside — Is the Superstar Squad Working Overtime to Save Their Boss?

After twenty years away from the stage, Nicholas Tse has finally revived his concert tour. Meanwhile, Joey Yung — often praised as “Hong Kong’s last great diva” — has once again become the industry’s tireless workhorse. Before mid-November even arrived, she had already performed in Leshan and Kunshan. Many believe this sudden surge of activity among Hong Kong’s biggest stars can be traced back to one headline: Emperor Group has reportedly defaulted on HK$16.6 billion in bank loans.

Hong Kong entertainment has rarely been this lively. Nicholas Tse’s concert comeback after two decades has triggered endless speculation. Joey Yung’s rapid-fire schedule has people joking that she is literally working city by city. And behind it all, netizens suspect it is connected to Emperor Group’s massive debt crisis. The company may be under pressure, but fans are celebrating like it’s New Year’s Day, even teasing the bank to “keep pushing Emperor harder.”

Online, this wave of humor has given birth to a new nickname: the “Emperor Debt-Repayment Squad.” Every move these artists make becomes a stage in the comedy. Nicholas Tse, who has been thriving as a celebrity chef, suddenly announced a full tour stretching all the way to 2026. His last concert was in 2005. The internet immediately filled with dark jokes: “He paid his father’s debts as a teenager, now he’s paying the company’s debt in his forties. Looks like Nicholas can’t avoid debt in this lifetime.”

Meanwhile, Kenny Kwan staged his first concert in six years and pushed the envelope further. His posters showed off a ripped physique, and onstage he stripped off his shirt, joking that if going shirtless sold a hundred extra tickets, it was worth it. The performance resembled a high-energy male revue, complete with aerial bars and pole-dance-level stunts. His collaboration with Yumiko Cheng was so bold that netizens joked they almost got a nosebleed. Fellow artists watched and cheered, fully supporting the so-called “debt repayment spirit.”

Joey Yung barely finished appearing as Kenny Kwan’s guest before rushing to yet another performance, including multiple multi-artist concerts across the provinces. In August she performed in Meixian, in October she appeared on a school field in Xinxing County. When Emperor later pulled her from that show, ticket prices dropped by eight yuan, sparking the now-famous joke: “Joey Yung is worth eight dollars.” Fans continued teasing that at this rate, she might one day become the resident singer at a countryside guesthouse. Audiences in Guangdong and Guangxi were even more delighted, saying that as long as Emperor owes enough money, everyone in the region will eventually see Joey performing near their home.

The “family” culture of Emperor is so well-known that netizens naturally connect the dots. During Nicholas Tse’s tour, the company boss showed up with nearly the entire artist roster, demonstrating the company motto: “A family must stay united.” Gillian Chung once said she lacked a sense of belonging growing up, but found it after joining Emperor. Joey Yung has expressed similar feelings, describing the company as more like a home than a workplace.

Long contracts are a hallmark of Emperor. Nicholas Tse signed at 16 and never left. William Chan has stayed for more than 20 years, and fans jokingly claim even his newborn child is already reserved for a future Emperor contract. Artist-manager bonds run deep. Mani Fok, Nicholas Tse’s lifelong manager, was the one who discovered Joey Yung and insisted she had the potential to become a diva. She is often seen attending staff and artist weddings, calling it “marrying off my daughters,” radiating warmth and maternal pride.

This kind of old-school loyalty is not unique to Emperor but is part of the fabric of Hong Kong entertainment. When Dicky Cheung faced bankruptcy years ago, he turned to Andy Lau, who immediately wrote him a massive cheque and told him, “What you learn, teach others. What you earn, share with others.” When veteran actor Benz Hui passed away recently, Charmaine Sheh broke down while promising to care for his family. Many stars visited him during his illness, a testament to an industry built on affection and solidarity. It’s no surprise that jokes about “collectively repaying debts” go viral — they reflect a culture that still treasures loyalty.

The financial jokes aside, the situation is more complex. Emperor Entertainment is only a small slice of the larger Emperor Group, contributing roughly 5–15% of total revenue. The real trouble lies in its real estate investments, which reported HK$1.54 billion in valuation losses and HK$16.6 billion in overdue bank loans. Yet the group still holds over HK$30 billion in non-current assets and is actively selling and restructuring properties. Business activities continue — Emperor Jewelry opened a new store in Hangzhou, chairman Albert Yeung prepared hundreds of rare wines for a Sotheby’s auction, and he even hosted a grand 40th anniversary celebration with his wife. Joey Yung clarified publicly that her hectic schedule had been arranged long before the rumors and that her boss reassured her the situation was manageable.

Still, the bigger story is that Hong Kong entertainment has been quiet for too long. The golden age of Cantonese pop is long gone. Classic songs once dominated Asia, but today it’s hard to find a Cantonese track that breaks through nationwide. TVB’s glory days are sealed in history, and even after shifting to livestream commerce, the decline continues. Hong Kong cinema also struggles. Only four local films crossed HK$10 million in the first half of 2025. Without Stephen Chow’s comedies or iconic martial-arts films, the industry leans heavily on nostalgia.

Perhaps the most pressing issue is the shrinking pool of new talent. The same veteran actors — Louis Koo, Nick Cheung, Jackie Chan, Tony Leung Ka-fai — carry film after film. Few young artists can match their influence. Emperor too relies heavily on its near-midlife stars to keep the industry spotlight alive. It is both a sign of decline and a reminder of resilience. The industry may be fading, but the old guard — with their loyalty, grit and enduring charm — is still here, still working, still holding the stage together.