LIU Lingling is running late - 45 minutes late, to be precise.

Over the telephone, she apologises profusely, explaining that she had to return to her Sengkang home to pick up the old photographs used with this column. It seems her maid had forgotten to pack them in her bag.

Then, more time was wasted when she lost her way while trying to navigate her Toyota Fortuna to News Centre in Toa Payoh.

When you finally meet the getai host who starred in Royston Tan's movie 881 at the lobby - with her maid and a piece of luggage in tow - the first thing she does is offer a deep bow in your direction.

'I'm very, very, very sorry,' the 44-year-old says repeatedly in Mandarin.

With that, any suspicions you may have of her divaish behaviour promptly dissipate.

Fame has thankfully not gone to her head, even if her rise to stardom in the past year has been nothing short of spectacular. From a name known only within the getai circle and among a handful of Chinese television viewers after her small role in the 2005 Channel 8 serial Portrait Of Home, she became an overnight sensation after 881.

Liu played two roles in the runaway hit: a seamstress as well as the Goddess of Getai. A veteran getai performer for over 30 years, she took to the tailor-made roles like a fish to water.

With her funny yet touching portrayals, she endeared herself to audiences of all ages - and, indeed, all ethnic groups.

'I even had Malay strangers coming up to me to tell me they liked the movie,' she says.

Smooth, confident and larger than life, she does not do nervous. After all, this is a woman who can hold large crowds in rapt attention night after night during the Seventh Month, making them cheer her every move.

Yet that is what she admits to feeling about her sophomore effort, 12 Lotus, a new movie also directed by Tan.

'The pressure I feel is very, very huge,' confides Liu, who is nicknamed 600 as her name sounds like the number when pronounced in Mandarin.

'When I did 881, I was on very familiar ground and it was like I was playing my own game. I was very lucky that everyone loved the movie.

'But when people give you a lot of love, they also have very high expectations of you. So I'm very stressed now, although I keep reminding myself to take it easy as it is just my second movie.'

However, she remains tight-lipped about her role in the new musical film, which is scheduled for release on Aug 14. She would only let on that she plays the main character, 12 Lotus. It also stars Mindee Ong and Qi Yuwu, who were in 881 too.

'Royston was very secretive during filming and I am also very keen to see how the movie will turn out,' she says.

Better to be fat

WE ARE sitting in the photo studio and Liu is putting on her make-up as we chat, her impressive array of cosmetics spread before her on the table.

It feels almost getai-like as performers who hop from one location to another often touch up their make-up in a makeshift corner by the stage.

In fact, she completes the getai experience by changing into her costumes right in front of you and the male photographer even though there is a changing room available.

'Don't worry, I'm used to it,' she says as she removes her clothes. 'I always wear a spaghetti-strap top and a pair of tights under my outfits so I can strip anywhere I need to.'

That is not the only professional side she reveals. Inside her luggage are countless boxes of accessories, complete with garish jewellery to feather headgear, as well as three brand-new dresses.

'You asked for two different changes of clothes, right? I brought along three just in case and all of them have never been worn before,' she says cheerily.

She then adds helpfully that she had deliberately picked bright colours such as purple and orange as 'colours like these will look good in the papers'.

Part of the reason people are drawn to her is perhaps her rotund figure. Standing at 1.6m, she tips the scales at 93kg, yet is one of those people who are not shy about calling themselves fat.

When the photographer asks which side of herself she prefers, she shoots back good-humouredly: 'Aiyo, I'm so fat already, all sides are the same, lah.'

She breaks into a loud guffaw, then continues: 'It's better to be fat, actually. People don't view you as a threat and they don't want to take advantage of you.

'Whenever you find yourself in a situation, you just go 'Aiya, I'm fatter than you' and people usually give in to you.'

That is why she is able to drive a hard bargain, it seems. Those who have known her for a long time say she is one principled, feisty lady whom you cannot take for a ride.

Getai compere Zhong Yaonan tells Life!: 'If she asks for $2,000, she will not reduce it by a cent, no matter how hard you beg. But after the show, she will happily fork out $200 and treat you to a seafood supper.'

Tan, who spent three years secretly observing Liu during her shows before approaching her for the 881 roles, says the actress is someone who takes a lot of pride in her profession.

'She's one of those actresses who comes very well prepared, so much so that she sometimes intimidates other members of the cast as she never panics at all,' he says.

'After every scene, she'll always ask me: 'Does it pass? If it's not 100 per cent, I'll do it again.''

Describing her as a 'very, very strong woman', he says she likes to take on challenges and will never compromise.

'She is a modern version of Hua Mulan,' he says, referring to the Chinese folk heroine who disguised herself as a man to take her ailing father's place in the army.

School of hard knocks

CRACKING jokes and laughing after every other sentence, Liu is very much like her boisterous self on stage, where she hosts, sings and dances without missing a beat.

But at times, she will lapse into sombre moments, the old soul in her spouting philosophical lines such as 'I love the feeling of pain, because only when life gives you pain can you appreciate how sweet happiness is when it comes'.

Liu has been married since 1997 but has no children. Her husband, who is working as a cook in Australia, prefers to live in that country so she visits him when she can.

'I'm actually someone who cries easily, but I hate letting people see me cry,' she reveals.

'When I watched Jewel In The Palace, I cried my eyes out and I told myself: 'No more Korean dramas for me from now on'.'

Her own life story is filled with enough tears and adversities to resemble a sappy Korean drama.

Born in Singapore to a Beijing opera teacher and an opera troupe actress, both from Malaysia, she is the eldest of four children.

Her parents struggled to make ends meet and did not even have money to buy milk powder so, when she was still a baby, she was sent to Johor to live with her maternal grandmother in a kampung.

When she was five, she started making the rounds with her mother as the latter travelled all over Singapore and Malaysia performing.

'I would sit by the stage and watch my mother perform. Later, I learnt to sing along and gradually people started watching me instead,' she recalls with a smile.

By the age of seven, she had cut her first Hokkien album and she was performing in getai shows full-time when she turned 12.

Six months into her first year in secondary school, she broke her leg and was forced to recuperate at home for over half a year.

She wanted to return to school, but was lagging so far behind the rest of the class that her principal told her the best choice would be to continue her studies in a night school instead.

But it was out of the question - her family could not afford it and, besides, she had to perform almost every night.

She remembers leaving the school, heartbroken, crying all the way on the bus.

When she reached home, her father told her: 'If you're really keen on learning, you don't have to go to school to do it. Life will teach you everything you need to know.'

Holding a false eyelash in one hand, Liu gives a wry smile and says: 'My father was right. I've been in the getai business since I was small and meeting so many people means that I really learn all about life.'

Laughter's the best medicine

ONE of the most important lessons she learnt was greeting life with humour and laughter whenever the going got tough.

So it is that she laughs her way out of embarrassing situations, be it when her shoe flew off while she was dancing on stage when she was 12, or when her leather pants gave way during a split when she was 21.

Nothing fazes her, not even being sick, starving and alone while singing in the United States and Canada when she was 24. Some days, with just $5 left in her pocket as she had sent all her money home to her mother, she survived on instant noodles and leftovers.

Over the years, she has also performed in Chinese restaurants in France, Australia and Indonesia. To date, she has cut more than 50 albums, most of which are sold during her getai shows.

Even as her figure went sideways - she used to be a svelte 46kg - her reputation within the getai circuit grew too.

From 1997 to 2001, she formed a formidable partnership with fellow veteran Lim Lee and the pair ruled the getai world during that period.

But it all came to an abrupt end when Lim declared unilaterally to the media that they were going separate ways.

Choosing her words carefully, Liu would only say that apart from disagreements over money, there were people who tried to sow discord and break up the partnership.

'It was a huge blow to me because I was suddenly left on my own again,' she recalls. 'That is why I say I'm thankful for all the ups and downs I've been through and I was able to bounce back, even stronger than before.'

To ensure she is on top of things, she watches TV and listens to the radio almost relentlessly.

Another example of her steely determination is the way she has learnt English - or Singlish, as she modestly puts it - by forcing herself to speak it whenever she has the chance to.

Last year, Tan came knocking on her door and the rest, as they say, is history.

The funny thing is, she did not have a clue as to who he was or about his credentials, even after the filming of 881 had wrapped up.

It was only when they went to Busan, South Korea, for the movie's international premiere at the Pusan International Film Festival last October that she realised how big he was.

'When he went to the toilet, five ang moh directors came looking for him. I thought to myself: 'Wah, he is so famous, ah?',' she says animatedly.

These days, she can say the same for herself. Her asking price has shot up by at least 50 per cent and she admits she earns a five-figure sum every month.

But with the success comes the gossip and rumours. Already, there is talk that fame has gone to her head.

However, getai organiser Tan Chew Lee comes to her defence.

'She is still the same. But because everyone wants a piece of her, yet not everyone can afford to pay her, it is inevitable that she will offend some people,' he says.

With her trademark humour, Liu jokes that the biggest change in her life is that while people used to call her Ah Pui (Hokkien for Ah Fat), they refer to her respectfully as Ling Jie (Mandarin for Sister Ling) now.

'But sometimes when I hear people say Ah Pui, I will still turn around and wonder if they are calling me,' she says.

One thing has definitely remained the same, though. The filial woman loves her parents - she mentions them constantly, with a tender look on her face - and still takes them on short trips whenever possible.

As this interview draws to a close, you ask what is the one thing that bothers her otherwise plain-sailing life at the moment.

As she ponders the question, her smile starts to fade.

'What really pains me is the fact that I am not a mother,' she says softly, her eyes welling up. 'When I was younger, I worked hard at making money and felt that babies could wait. The irony is, now that I have some money, it might be too late to have a child.

'But I really want to go through the whole process, from getting pregnant to giving birth to raising a child. I somehow feel incomplete if I don't experience motherhood.'

She blinks and manages a weak smile, her face suddenly appearing a little pale despite the colours she has just painstakingly painted on it.

This article was first published in The Straits Times on Jun 9, 2008.