Li Nanxing Once Worked As A Hollywood Calefare To Clear His $2 Million Debt

In real life, though, he’s always been a bit of an enigma. Those who have met him have remarked that he can be quite reticent, with an aura of melancholy that lends gravitas to the brooding heroes he plays on TV. Today, though, we see a new side to Li Nanxing. As someone who has been through it all — acting success barely out of his teens, then a bitter divorce with actress-turned-property agent Yang Libing, crushing debts from a failed business venture, subsequent gambling and drinking addictions — he confirms now that life is indeed good. A calmer, domesticated, fish farm- and kitchen-loving LNX has emerged.

The numerous Instagram posts (put up by his manager, but still!) of him cooking various dishes at his spacious semi-detached home tells us so. There’s LNX presiding over a home-cooked Peranakan feast. Oh, he’s made fish head curry. And there he is, stirring batter for durian cake at his uncle’s durian plantation in Malaysia. He looks even happier in the flesh this morning, relaxed and casually shooting the breeze with stall vendors who clearly adore him. He walks tall and purposefully, cutting a commanding figure even in the market-appropriate T-shirts that the 8 DAYS stylist has picked for him. His hair is lush, his tanned skin glowing and sprinkled with just a few lines around his eyes, his limbs sinewy and strong. He’s 54 but could pass off for 45.
8CS0309 - the unbeatables
8CS0309 - on the fringe

At this point, you may be wondering what we’re doing with Nanxing at a wet market. It’s not random. Ah Ge grew up in the Ghim Moh HDB estate. He now lives at nearby Holland Village, but he still does his own grocery shopping at the heartland market for his home cooking. He’s such a popular presence at the stalls, the fishmonger wonders aloud if “Yandao is not here yet?” when he spies Nanxing’s long-time manager, Teri. “I moved to Ghim Moh when I was eight years old. My late mum was quite famous at the market ’cos I went into acting, and all the stall owners here have known us for a long time,” Nanxing says. One might think a celeb would be awkward in a rowdy wet market. But it’s really where LNX is in his element, pawing at both seafood and fruits with practiced ease.

As it turns out, going to the pasar with him is more like trailing a well-loved MP, what with him carrying babies and charming aunties. “I have to be sincere. I can’t just pretend to be friendly to get people’s ‘vote’, because they are the ones who have supported me since they were young,” he tells us earnestly. The number of fans he has here is incredible. Thanks to him, we see an 80-something granny flirt for the first time. She has barged in on our conversation, and is now brazenly hitting on him. “You guess my age,” trills the snowy-haired dame coquettishly, fixing her eyes on Nanxing. “Er, you still look very young lah!” he exclaims diplomatically, a smooth move which quickly slakes Granny’s thirst. Beaming, she shouts: “I’m over 80! Don’t look like right? Goodbye!” before ambling off. “My supporter,” Nanxing explains to us, looking a little embarrassed by the attention.

Unlike most stars, he doesn't refer to his fans as, well, fans who worship him like an idol. “Supporters” is his preferred term for the scores of aunties and uncles who spent many a weeknight watching him on TV and regarded him as a big — if not the biggest — star in Singapore even when he was down and out (but more on that later). “Handsome” is also a term we would hear at least a dozen times during our photoshoot this busy Friday morning. While the 8 DAYS photographer clicks away, a cluster of star-struck bystanders jostle to snap photos of Nanxing. “Aiyoh, you still so handsome!” a few of them coo at him. We would have wrapped up the shoot sooner, except Ah Ge is stopped every few minutes by excited people (both men and women) asking for a picture with him. He patiently obliges every request, even sprinting towards a handicapped teenage boy who had wanted a photo when he sees the boy struggling to walk towards him.

Outside an aquarium stall, he lifts a little girl into his arms as her young mother takes photos with her phone. “My husband will be so thrilled to see this,” she tells Nanxing gratefully. He’s so sought-after, we can’t resist asking LNX if he’s had his share of stalkers. “No lah,” he replies breezily. Or K-style sasaeng fans who hover outside his house bearing gifts? “Also no. They just throw the presents into my house only. Ha ha!”

His assistant tells us that on a regular day, Ah Ge dresses down for the market. Think ratty running shorts. “Not nice one, it has a hole at the side,” he chuckles. The makeshift changing room for our shoot is at an old-school salon beside the market. Nanxing knows the lady boss, since his domestic helper, who is here today carrying his purchases, gets her haircuts there. He changes into his outfits in the salon’s toilet with minimal fuss, sits on a rickety wooden chair to get his hair done, not looking out of place among the heartland aunties in the retro shop waiting for their perms to set. “I’m very local,” he avers.

While his dialect is Teochew and he’s part Peranakan, Nanxing speaks in a hodgepodge of mainly Mandarin, some surprisingly decent English, plus Teochew, Hokkien and Cantonese. He cradles durians and banters easily with Ah Seng, the genial towkay of the famous Ah Seng Durian stall at the market. Despite his star status, Ah Ge loves his cheap thrills as much as the next auntie. “Since you’re here today, I didn’t bargain with the fish stall uncle ’cos I feel paiseh. But usually I’d haggle with him. I like the thrill of getting a $10 item for $8,” he laughs. “Sometimes I’d think about a spectacular bargain and smile to myself. What a steal!”

But he’s adamant about not accepting freebies, even though he occasionally get a few complimentary chillies for being Li Nanxing. “The stall owners work so hard, I can’t take advantage of them,” he declares. “At most I’ll just grill them on whether their produce is as good as they claim. I’d say, ‘Is it really fresh? Don’t cheat me hor!’ Sometimes I’d be stubborn and insist on choosing my own produce. But when I get home I’d be like, aiyah, should have taken the one that the boss recommended.” Sounds like every Singaporean’s #struggle at the pasar.

As we sit down with Nanxing at a table to share a creamy Mao Shan Wang, his manager asks if he wants to tapow lunch. “Chye tow kueh eh sai (Hokkien for ‘can’),” Nanxing says. He likes his carrot cake black, with dark soy sauce, “and the chye poh must be chopped very finely”. He thinks peppery Singapore-style bak kut teh is better than the herby Malaysian version. “They add so many herbs to the soup that you can’t tell what it’s supposed to taste like anymore”.

Over the course of our hour-and-a-half-long chat, he shares a few hilarious nuggets, like how “Aiyoyo” Chen Liping is the connoisseur of their makan group. During those 90 minutes, he is bubbly, his soulful eyes turning serious when he reveals — and this is new to us — that he had to swallow his pride and work as a lowly extra in Hollywood productions in the early noughties because he was desperate to settle a $2 million debt. And how these days, simple things make him happy. Like, when he’s “out there with nature” at his humble fish farm. This is in stark contrast to our first cover story of him back in ’91, when he said what would make him happy was to fulfil his dream of “cruising along the highway with no speed limit in a black Lamborghini” (he drives an SUV now).

“Our mindset is very important [in maintaining our youthfulness]. Be happy-go-lucky. Enjoy the present moment, and you’d have a smooth-sailing life. My own life is filled with setbacks, but I got through it all the same. It’s part and parcel of growing up. Look at me now, my wrinkles have reduced drastically. Last time, a fly could get crushed to death between my deep wrinkles!” he says with a chuckle.

This is Li Nanxing, take 2. And we’re loving it.

8 DAYS: Li Nanxing is so domesticated these days. When did you start cooking so much?
LI NANXING: I only became interested in cooking five or six years ago. I got to a certain age where I thought that I should slow down. I started to reminisce about my [late] mother and grandmother’s cooking, and how they used to entertain at home. But my food is not Michelin-star standard lah (laughs). It’s just home-cooked food.

You seem to have inherited your mum’s cooking chops.
I can only try to replicate her dishes from memory, ’cos she didn’t have recipes or teach me how to cook. Now that I think of her, I regret [not learning cooking from her]. It’s a pity, ’cos I was always too busy with work. Where got time to spend hours preparing meals? I can only cook based on what I remember of the smell and taste of her dishes. But I’m getting closer to making exactly what my mum used to make, maybe 50 per cent. She was very good at controlling the cooking time. Don’t geh kiang (Hokkien for ‘act smart’) and open the pot to check if your food is cooked. If you lift the lid at the wrong moment, your dish is doomed!

How often do you throw dinner parties?
Not too often, about once every two or three months. I’d invite friends over, like Rayson [Tan], [Chen] Liping, Fann [Wong], Christopher [Lee].... Everyone is busy, so it’s not easy to organise a get-together.

Who has the most discerning palate?
Aiyoyo [Chen Liping]. Ha ha! She’s more particular about food, and she eats slowly. I’d cook five dishes, and everyone would have already tasted all of it, but she’d only be at the second dish. She likes to savour her food before giving me her feedback. When I cooked [Teochew-style] cold crabs, she asked me to add tangerine oil. But I didn’t have it at home, so I said, “Do you really need it?” She told me I must include the oil to make the dish authentically Teochew. So I went out to buy it (laughs) — I didn’t get the appeal of it, though. But she’s very traditional that way.

Are you the only good cook in your celeb circle of friends?
No, no. Ming Shun [Christopher Lee] is very good at making Malaysian-style lor bak (soy-braised pork). It’s delicious. We’d get Aiyoyo to critique it (laughs). But I don’t know if she can cook leh. I have known her for decades and she has never cooked for me (guffaws). Just kidding! If there’s time, I’d whip up some dishes for you guys to try.

Yay. Tell us about your fish farm.
I bought it over 10 years ago and my uncle now helps to run it. We rear milkfish, wu yu (Indian threadfin) and some mussels there to sell to licensed suppliers. I earn some money from it, but it isn’t a lot. It’s money made with blood, sweat and tears! When I have time, I go stay on the farm for a week to help with the work there and relax. I’m happiest when I’m out there with nature.

You famously overcame a drinking addiction in the noughties. How do you deal with the Chinese way of sealing deals over a drinking session?
Wah, they are very good at that. I try to avoid drinking whenever possible, but they still value socialising. It’s in their culture. So I can’t be a spoilsport and just have plain water. But I’ll say, “Sorry brothers and sisters, I can’t drink too much.” They respect my stance. They can’t force you by saying, “Drink up!”. That only happens in movies (laughs). They drink baijiu (Chinese hard liquor) there. It’s so strong, it’s like kerosene! My liver will be destroyed if I drink so much of that.

Why the decision to branch into China?
I have always had these projects overseas. I only became more involved over the past few years, but it’s mostly in real estate. I’m also attached to a production house there that’s linked to [local media and entertainment company] MM2, so I have touched base on a few acting projects. We are still discussing the details. Things have been a bit unstable there recently [due to an industry-wide corruption purge that has shaken up China’s showbiz]. So some projects may be put on hold. But I’ll still take on projects in Singapore. It all depends on where the demand is.

Do you get recognised in China?
Got lah. But mostly from aunties, ’cos some of my earlier dramas were screened there. But the roles I have been considering there are more contemporary, the fatherly type. I don’t mind playing a dad. I can’t be a fresh-faced rookie forever!

You still look fab, though. Have you gotten a little bit of, ahem, help?
Of course I use skincare lah. But no, I haven’t done Botox and I won’t go under the knife. I guess I’m lucky to have good genes. I must thank my parents!

After 33 years in showbiz, have you achieved everything you wanted to do?
When I was young, I set targets for myself to film a certain number of dramas, and kept increasing my target. It’s hard to live with that kind of pressure. My mentality was immature. Now, I’m just contented with what I have. Keep an open mind and accept what the future brings.

How different is acting for you now, compared to when you first started out?
Last time, we had the luxury of slowly building up our emotions on-screen. You can take your time to [pretends to sob dramatically]. Now it’s all, chop chop, done. If it’s a break-up scene, you just break up. It’s not like before, when the parting lovers will be like, “Nooo… you must come back.” Just cut it short lah! That’s how it is now with young audiences. Even after 33 years, I’m still learning as an actor.

Which celebs would you say have stuck with you through your ups and downs in showbiz?
(Looks thoughtful) I have always been pretty much independent. I don’t like to bother other people [with my problems]. Their consolation can only do so much. You have to decide by yourself how to overcome your troubles. But the [celeb] friends I’m most frequently in touch with are people like Rayson and Liping.

You once got into deep debt after a failed country club venture, and fell into gambling addiction. Do you still play blackjack and mahjong during Chinese New Year now?
It’s okay if I’m playing for fun. It’s the festive season after all, and such games are for family bonding. I don’t take things so seriously! People fall into gambling addiction ’cos they have other problems in their lives. I was in heavy debt at that time, and gambling seemed like the fastest way to earn money to pay off my debts. It’s very easy to spiral out of control like that. It’s like I’m using a small knife to hack at a big tree. Even before I fell that tree, I already ‘collapse’ from exhaustion. I was only gambling with my own luck. When I lost money, I assumed it was something supernatural that was kacau-ing (Malay for disturbing) me.

How did you overcome your addiction?
I had a few benefactors by my side who convinced me to stop gambling. The aunties who asked to take photos with me just now? They were my supporters who were willing to give me another chance to do good, even though [it was public knowledge that] I had gone astray.

But most people only see you as the infallible Ah Ge. Did you feel like you had to hide your struggles back then?
I put on a strong front, so most people didn’t know what I was going through. I tong (Hokkien for ‘persevered’) till I couldn’t tong anymore. It was really hard. But it was good experience for my future roles. My acting would be convincing, ’cos I really went through all of that. Maybe God wanted me to experience hardship to make me a better actor. Who knows? This is why I openly share about my past gambling problems with people, so that I can help them. I recently did an anti-scamming ad for the Singapore Police Force, and I’m also doing an ad for anti-gambling, and another ad for the traffic police. I’m playing the good guy now! It can be stressful. You have to be on your best behaviour all the time (laughs).

You bounced back and live in a nice semi-detached house at Holland Village now.
It wasn’t easy getting here. It took me three years to clear my debts, which were over $2 million. I worked for 18 hours every day without fail. I took on all kinds of jobs and did everything, even calefare roles and props. I worked on big productions in Malaysia and ang moh projects in Hollywood, where I could be anyone and anything. [As an extra], you only need to say, “Hello, goodbye and thank you”. I’d work on sets for a few weeks, take my pay and go. Just like that.

Which Hollywood films did you work on?
(Pauses) I cannot say. There are non-disclosure agreements. I worked in the props department for Hollywood productions, and some calefare roles which required shots of a hand, or body. They were looking for someone with acting experience, and I had done all kinds of action roles. So I became that guy in the show who opens a door, asks, “Who are you looking for?” and bam! Gets shot in the face and dies. That role got me US$300. When the director tells me to flip, I just flip. One flip is worth several hundred US dollars, you know? Even if you’re a non-speaking calefare just walking past the camera, you’d receive US$150. I stayed on set to see what kind of help the production team needed, and I can earn up to US$1,000 a day.

Did you find those jobs demeaning, considering that you’re an A-lister in Singapore?
I only wanted to clear my debts. I let go of my ego. When you are in that situation where I was, it’s like falling to the ground from 18 floors. Boom, you’re nobody now. Some people who recognised me did gossip behind my back, but that’s not important to me.

Were you worried about the public finding out that you were working as an extra overseas?
Of course! At first I was very paiseh. I was like, “Don’t want lah, I don’t want those roles.” I’d tell the cameraman to only film my side profile (laughs). But gradually it didn’t matter anymore. As the older generations would say: “Kan po hong chen (a Chinese proverb that means ‘overcoming materialism’).”

Do you live alone now?
Yes. It’s a big house, but you have to pamper yourself and enjoy your time at home.

You were divorced in 2005. As a famous person, do you find it harder to go on dates?
I don’t give myself that kind of pressure. After all that I’ve been through, committing to a person is a huge responsibility. I have to take it seriously. You guys said I [look] young, so I am still waiting for the right person to come by lor (laughs). I don’t have a set of criteria for a partner, but she must have a good heart. I believe if it’s meant to be, you can’t resist fate no matter what.

You mentioned you didn’t want kids in an interview last year for your Ch 8 drama My Teacher is a Thug. What would make you change your mind?
I don’t know. Let things happen naturally lah. Maybe when I eventually commit to someone, I’d suddenly think, “Hey, I’d like to start a family.” In the past I planned my life too much — I set goals that I have to achieve, like retire at a certain age. But all that is not important to me now. I just live to be happy. I don’t think about marriage either. I’ve no time! I’m only focusing on my projects for now. But some aunties at the market try to matchmake me with their daughters. They tell me, “My daughter is still single leh. She’s a university graduate, you want?” That’s when I’d try to escape the conversation. Zao ah! (Hokkien for ‘run’). Cannot lah, it’s too direct of them. It’s just like being in the kampong days!

PHOTOS: EALBERT HO
ART DIRECTION: PYRON TAN
STYLING: JEROME AWASTHI
STYLIST’S ASSISTANT: NADIAH RAHMAN
HAIR: MARTIN IP/ KIM ROBINSON SINGAPORE
MAKEUP: DOLLEI SEAH USING YSL BEAUTÉ

Li Nanxing's recent 8 DAYS cover; this is the last time you will see Ah Ge on our print cover, sob.

A smiling, cherubic 26-year-old Nanxing on his first 8 DAYS cover in 1991.

A moodier leading man in 1993 on his third cover.

In 1994, at the height of his The Unbeatables fame, he fronts the mag with co-star Zoe Tay. Sart or what?