What does the real "Chronicles of Chinese Games" look like?

This article is reproduced with permission from Qingbaoji

Author: Erqi

Reviewer: Caibao

Layout: Lujiu

A few months ago, the documentary "Zhongguo Youxi Jishi" sparked controversy on the internet.

Honestly, its creators really understand the gaming industry. The selection of materials is just right, reflecting the development, hardships, and vitality of Chinese games.

But I didn't enjoy watching it, because its protagonist was the Chinese game industry, not Chinese games themselves.

If we're talking about the latter, then our stories as players deserve a place too.

Like those naive teenagers lingering in illegal internet cafés, those children oppressed by "internet addiction," those e-sports dreams that could hardly grow in the past... But all of this was hidden behind the industry's development.

I hadn't actually recalled the little details of those days for a long time.

These memories resurfaced partly because the games in the documentary stirred them, and partly because I came across a game called "Wangyin Shaonian 2005".

The reason I tried this game was simple: one sentence in its review section

— "This is the true chronicle of Chinese games."

I was curious why the reviewer said that, so I bought it, downloaded it, played it, finished it, and then burst into tears.

The story of "Wangyin Shaonian 2005" takes place in an ordinary small county town in China in 2005.

The protagonist is named Wang Xiaoleng, a high school student who likes to climb over walls at midnight to go to internet cafés, loves Warcraft III, and dreams of becoming a pro gamer. In the eyes of parents and teachers, he is a textbook "internet-addicted teenager."

Younger friends may not know about that era that once shouted "battle the internet demon."

At that time, the arrival of video games became the perfect excuse for the failures of family education and school education.

Of course, we don't deny the negative side of games; they can indeed make many people expend their energy at the wrong time and in the wrong direction, causing them to neglect their studies. But fundamentally, there are far too many ways for young people to go astray — movies, extracurricular books, celebrity fandom... Games are just one of them.

There is nothing new under the sun. Our parents once faced the same temptations — "martial arts novels," "Hong Kong movies"... and for even younger kids today, it becomes phones and short videos. So it's only the excuses that change.

It was against this backdrop that the protagonist faced a crucial choice in his life

— should he stick with e-sports and follow his dream, or walk the path his parents had mapped out for him?

Wang Xiaoleng was originally confused, because he had no clear understanding of what life was, he was anxious about the so-called future, and the path he wanted to take was one condemned by the adult world. Still, he leaned toward chasing his dream, because he had a good friend; the two went online together, honed their skills together, kept encouraging each other, and talked about everything, strengthening their resolve while sharing each other's worries.

But then, for various reasons, his friend chose to give up. During his friend's struggle, Xiaoleng, hesitating himself, failed to offer encouragement at the critical moment.

The departure of his companion made Xiaoleng lose confidence for a while, but at that moment, he met a good big brother.

The "big brother" portrayed by the game's creators is very archetypal: he stands up against injustice, has superb gaming skills, and is willing to take the young teen under his wing in games while also showing him the way. He is a dual mentor for both gaming and life. With the big brother's help, Xiaoleng gradually came to understand the longing in his heart and made many choices that shaped his life...

While experiencing these scenes, I felt a sense of familiarity. When I was young, I also had a good buddy like that, a game-guiding older brother, and the same life troubles brought on by games. So I projected myself into Wang Xiaoleng and was moved by his final choice.

This also made me curious about what kind of person would create such a story and for what reasons, so I contacted the creator.

"To make up for the regrets of those years."

The creator, Lao Kay, told me exactly that when I asked.

Lao Kay is a few years older than me. During his middle school and high school years, Warcraft III was at the height of its popularity.

As a hardcore enthusiast, he could already take on multiple insane computers in custom games back in middle school — far beyond a weakling like me who could only manage against the easiest computer.

These results made Lao Kay realize his talent. At the same time, Li Xiaofeng won the championship at WCG, proving that e-sports was a viable career path.

And so the young man developed a dream of going pro in e-sports.

However, his courage didn't carry him to take the final step, so he chose the path society most approved of: the college entrance exam, university, and a job.

But when he looks back, the regret remains. That's why this game exists — because although time can't flow backward, you can still fulfill that dream in a game.

In my conversation with Lao Kay, I realized that although we were hundreds of kilometers apart and different in age, the same frustrations, the same experiences, and the same scars of the era were not mine alone.

The game's review section is practically a collection of this kind of "scar literature."

There are those who, through Wang Xiaoleng's ending, felt that a parallel world had "fulfilled their dreams."

There are also those who once faced the chance to realize their dreams but chose to give up, and now sigh deeply in the game.

And there are those born after 2000 who, through the game, felt the confusion and pain of past players.

Reading these comments, the marks of that era — not quite suffering, but far from trivial — surfaced one by one in my mind, crossing the distance of ten or twenty years to arrive in 2024.

I only felt out of place, because the "internet addiction war" had already ended.

This was the second time I felt that way; the first was a few years ago.

Back then, I interviewed some "outsiders" at a League of Legends arena. They were the middle-aged and elderly men and women in charge of cleaning, and the middle-aged medical staff.

For people of this age, games should have been something completely unrelated to their lives, yet because of their work, there they were.

Just like androids dreaming of electric sheep, it makes you wonder what the former thinks of the latter.

The older folks felt it was just like the things their own children had been obsessed with when they were young, unable to tell what difference there was between so-called e-sports stars and movie or TV stars.

The middle-aged people were more affected, and among them were two aunties.

I asked them: if their child insisted, would they be willing to let them go into this industry?

The aunties first gave a very "diplomatic" answer, saying that as long as the child liked it and had talent, it wasn't impossible — after all, the popularity of these competitions proved that one could really make something of themselves.

But I added a few more points, saying that the e-sports industry is winner-take-all, that only a few can achieve fame and success, that it depends on youth, and that it conflicts with the traditional academic path.

They were stumped by my questions. After thinking it over, they said:

"It's not like our time anymore. If a kid really has talent, we should support them in chasing their dreams; we can't have them resenting us later. But a future is just as important. If that day really came, I honestly don't know what choice we'd make."

This answer moved me deeply, because back then, e-sports was not even a path worth considering in most parents' eyes.

But now, with the industrialization of e-sports, the times have changed quietly.

Though it's not yet perfect.

But one day in the future, it will eventually evolve into a perfect form.

If that day truly comes and someone wants to understand the full evolution from start to finish, they will need the documentary "Zhongguo Youxi Jishi," and they will also need more works like "Wangyin Shaonian 2005." Because only when the two are combined will the true face of Chinese games be revealed.

Lao Kay and his work reminded me that these stories need to be recorded and retold.

So I wrote this down, to tell you all.