CHANGCHUN, Feb. 17 (Xinhua) -- The Monkey King had eaten too many rice crackers.

"This thing is too dry," he muttered from beneath the papier-mache mountain that pinned him to the stage. "Take it away."

The line was improvised, half complaint, half joke, delivered in a thick northeastern accent as visitors above him kept lowering bags of Want Want Shelly Senbei, the only snack left that night. Someone filmed it. Before long, the clip had spread across Chinese social media.

Within days, the 26-year-old actor under the mountain had a nickname: "Xuebing Monkey" -- Rice-cracker Monkey. Within a week, nearly 400,000 people had followed his account.

Viral fame arrived as suddenly as the cold in Changchun, capital of northeast China's Jilin Province, where winter temperatures can sink below minus 20 degrees Celsius. It also arrived with a question that lingers long after the laughter fades: What can one improvised joke do for a region long defined by heavy industry and later by economic slowdown?

The actor behind the mask, Wang Qingfeng, did not grow up expecting internet celebrity.

He was born in Dehui, a county-level city in Jilin. His father and grandfather loved Errenzhuan, a northeastern folk art that blends comedy, song and acrobatics. Wang began formal training at nine. In one contest, he sang through tears and won a championship. When his grandfather later needed surgery, he sold the trophy.

Years later, nearing graduation from Jilin University of Arts, Wang spotted a recruitment booth for the Changchun Zoological and Botanical Park. The park was launching a night-tour project based on Journey to the West.

He auditioned on the spot, imitating the Monkey King's voice and pulling up old videos of his monkey acrobatics. He got the job.

At first, few people stopped. Visitors passed by the prop mountain, unsure what to do with a monkey lying beneath it.

After the rice-cracker clip, everything accelerated.

Livestreams that once drew fewer than 50 viewers suddenly pulled in more than 100,000. Followers climbed into the millions. Visitors traveled from across China to hand him fruit, dumplings, candies, anything but dry crackers.

Local officials began appearing, too. One handed him a formal letter appointing him a "Changchun sports promotion ambassador." Others named him a culture-and-tourism promoter.

Yet viral fame is fragile. Wang has said he wants to "protect" the IP and prevent it from collapsing. He directs attention to other park performers and shares traffic with the team. He and colleagues visit elderly care homes and children's welfare facilities, bringing performances and donated snacks. Between jokes, he pitches winter fishing at Chagan Lake, ski resorts and Jilin specialties. In one livestream watched by more than 30,000 people, he held up frozen fish and pitched the experience with the enthusiasm of a tour guide.

Changchun sits in China's northeast, once a cradle of heavy industry. In recent years, reviving the region has become a recurring national strategy. Winter tourism, fueled by an ice-and-snow boom, has surged.

Last snow season, Jilin recorded 170 million domestic tourist visits, up 35 percent year-on-year. The park, long struggling with declining appeal, now projects more than 3 million annual visits.