Adam Cheng (鄭少秋): The Cantonese Actor Whose TV Dramas Are Blamed Every Time the Hang Seng Crashes

Neon-lit Hong Kong cityscape evoking the era of TVB's golden age of Cantonese drama

In October 1992, TVB aired a 40-episode drama called The Greed of Man (大時代). The lead villain, Ting Hai, was played by a silver-tongued 45-year-old actor named Adam Cheng. Ting Hai and his four sons short-sold their way to a fortune while the fictional Hang Seng crashed around them. Then something strange happened: within a month of the show ending, the real Hang Seng lost more than 1,200 points — about 20% of its value. Traders muttered, then joked, then genuinely got nervous. And every time a new Adam Cheng project has aired since, the Hong Kong market has caught a cold often enough to earn a name for the phenomenon: the Ting Hai Effect (丁蟹效應). CNBC has written about it. Bloomberg analysts have modelled it. It's why Adam Cheng — who has done a lot more than one drama — is one of the strangest and most fascinating figures in modern Cantonese pop culture.

Neon-lit Hong Kong cityscape
Neon Hong Kong — the city where a single TV role turned into a stock market superstition. Photo via Pexels

The Panyu boy who became Chor Lau-heung

Adam Cheng Siu-chow was born on 24 February 1947 in Hong Kong, with ancestral roots in Panyu — the same Guangzhou district that raised generations of Cantonese opera performers. He started in Cantonese cinema in the late 1960s and joined TVB in the early 1970s. His breakout came in 1976, playing the swordsman-scholar Chen Jialuo in the wuxia serial The Book and the Sword (書劍恩仇錄). Then in 1979 he starred as the debonair thief-hero Chor Lau-heung (楚留香) — the role that made him the first Cantonese romantic action lead on television and launched a franchise that would run in various forms for decades. Every gambling drama, every silk-tongued antihero in Hong Kong TV owes something to Adam Cheng's Chor Lau-heung.

If you like the era's romance of the well-dressed schemer at the card table, our 賣神 God of Gamblers hoodie is a direct heir to that lineage — Cantonese gambling drama, printed on heavyweight fleece.

Four little-known stories that make the legend

🎤 He nearly quit acting to become a full-time singer

Long before his TV fame, Adam Cheng was releasing Cantopop records. He recorded theme songs for many of his own dramas, and his ballad-style delivery is still the sound of 1970s Hong Kong prime-time. His theme song for Chor Lau-heung remains a karaoke staple. He genuinely considered walking away from acting in his 20s to focus on music — which would have deprived Hong Kong of about half its wuxia canon.

📉 The Ting Hai Effect is a real academic study

The Ting Hai Effect isn't just tabloid chatter. In 2004, three finance students at Hong Kong Polytechnic wrote a thesis analysing every Adam Cheng project since 1992 against Hang Seng movements. In more than 70% of the cases they looked at, the market fell during or shortly after his shows aired. Whether that's coincidence, causation, or self-fulfilling prophecy — nobody agrees. But Hong Kong traders quietly watch the TVB schedule.

Hong Kong at night from a harbourside vantage
Hong Kong after dark — a city that still watches TVB and still watches the Hang Seng, sometimes at the same time. Photo via Pexels

👑 He played Emperor Qianlong so many times TVB gave up recasting

Across a 50-year career Adam Cheng has played Emperor Qianlong (乾隆) more times than any other actor. For a generation of Cantonese TV viewers, his face is the Qing court — tall, wry, quietly aristocratic. When he'd appear in yet another Qianlong-era production, TVB would basically just wheel out the same wardrobe and let him get on with it.

💕 His daughter, Joyce Cheng, is a Cantopop star in her own right

Adam Cheng was married to the late comedienne and singer Lydia Shum (沈殿霞), one of Hong Kong's most beloved entertainers. Their daughter, Joyce Cheng (鄴欣宜), is now a successful Cantopop singer with a huge following. Watch her performances and you can hear the diction and stage presence she inherited from both parents — an entire dynasty of Cantonese entertainment in one family.

What Adam Cheng means to Cantonese culture

Every culture has performers who become shorthand for an era. In Hong Kong, Adam Cheng is the entire 1970s-90s TVB wuxia-and-costume-drama world in one face. He's why so many diaspora kids can hum the melody of Chor Lau-heung's theme without knowing what a 楚留香 is. He's why Cantonese romances still love the archetype of the clever, silk-robed man who wins with charm. And thanks to Ting Hai, he's the one Cantonese celebrity whose CV can genuinely move a market.

If Chor Lau-heung's charm is your energy — well-dressed, quietly confident — our 靓爆鏡 Mirror Breaks sweatshirt is the modern Cantonese take on "so good-looking the mirror gives up". And the 坐定粒六 Always a 6 hoodie nods to the same gambling-drama era Adam Cheng built his career on.

A Cantonese phrase Adam Cheng made everyone say

Every actor who lasts long enough in Hong Kong ends up minting phrases. Adam Cheng's most enduring gift to Cantonese vocabulary is the villain's line from The Greed of Man — the swaggering catchphrase Ting Hai used to reassure his sons that things would always work out for them:

Vibrant Hong Kong street with dense neon signage
The vertical neon streets Cantonese dramas were shot against for four decades. Photo via Pexels

人在施服在

jan4 zoi6 si1 fuk6 zoi6  —  Jyutping romanisation

Meaning: "As long as I'm alive, my method still exists." Effectively: I'll always find a way.

Explanation: Ting Hai's shrug at defeat. Over the decades it became a real Cantonese phrase used half-seriously in offices, poker games and family dinners — whenever a Hong Konger is refusing to give up on a plan.

In real life: 「好好啄,人在施服在啦,我揂到新方法啦。」 ("Don't worry, as long as I'm here there's a way — I've found a new angle.")

Why he still matters

Adam Cheng is still working. Still recording songs, still showing up on TVB reunions, still occasionally spooking bankers. In a diaspora that scattered from Guangzhou to Toronto to Sydney, his catalogue is one of the shared soundtracks that lets a Cantonese aunty in Vancouver and a teenager in Kowloon recognise the same theme song within three notes. That is a rare kind of cultural gravity — the kind that outlives any market cycle. Ting Hai, of course, would say: 人在施服在.

👉 Shop the Best Sellers collection

Modern streetwear for the global Cantonese community.