When it comes to the cultivation of Xiakong, a five-star resonator in the game “Mingchao”, the first thing that comes into view is the dazzling and extremely complicated list of materials. It is not an exaggeration to say that this is a virtual alchemy. From the tide-eroded sail core to the burning phosphorus bone, to the crystallized phlogiston and the day when the iris blooms, the names of the materials are interesting and interesting, like a collection of ancient and modern Chinese and foreign rhetoric, with both the mystery of the secret of the deep sea and the rigor and tediousness of scientific refining.
But if this scene is placed in front of the mirror of modern game culture and examined carefully, the shadow of absurdity can be seen. Just like the “besieged city” philosophy written by Mr. Qian Zhongshu – people outside the city want to get in, people inside the city want to get out, and the players in the game seem to be in a besieged city: trapped by the cultivation tasks of countless materials, and tempted by the desire for powerful characters. Players lamented that the materials were so rare, but they had to do it with reluctance, repeatedly slaying monsters to collect them. This state of being unable to stop was full of the meaning of “siege”.
These materials are divided into different levels, low frequency, medium frequency, high frequency and even full frequency tide erosion sail cores, ranging from dozens to dozens, just like the layers of examinations and step-by-step promotions in the ancient imperial examination system, which are linked together and set up at every level. From Qian Zhongshu’s perspective, this is undoubtedly a kind of “cultural involution” in modern game design: everyone wants to climb to the top, but is bound by endless rules and materials, and falls into a vicious circle that seems free but is actually a cage.
Look at the materials such as “burning phosphorus bones” and “crystallized phlogiston”, the names are vivid and the meaning is profound. Burning phosphorus, bones burning with fire, seems to foreshadow the “purgatory road” of players in the process of cultivation; crystallized phlogiston is very much like the “philosopher’s stone” pursued by alchemists, but this philosopher’s stone is an illusion woven in the game program. Just like the spirit of “knowing it is impossible but doing it anyway” criticized by Qian Zhongshu in Guanzibian, players know that brushing materials is cumbersome, but they still pursue it diligently and are reluctant to give it up.
What is amusing is that this also includes a gain material called “Stuffed Meat and Tofu”, which can increase the material drop rate and last for half an hour. This setting has a humorous and sarcastic taste in Qian Zhongshu’s writing: we hold the virtual “Jade of Cuisine” “Stuffed Meat and Tofu” and enjoy the sweetness of efficiency bonus for a short time, just like drinking poison to quench thirst, but we never get tired of it. This seems to be a silent mockery of the quick-fix culture and fast-food life in modern society.
The list of materials is so complicated and huge, reflecting the infinite pursuit and anxiety of “success” in modern society. Players are like workers in modern society, constantly working, constantly consuming time and energy, in exchange for meager growth and virtual honor. If Qian Zhongshu were alive, he would probably use his sharp brushstrokes to describe the “tragedy of the besieged city” of this group: longing for transformation but unable to extricate themselves, trapped in it without knowing it.
However, the “day when irises bloom” that appears in the list brings a touch of poetic comfort. Iris symbolizes hope and beauty, as if reminding players that even in such a complicated and tiring situation, they might as well find a touch of tranquil floral fragrance behind the prosperity. The “beauty” described by Qian Zhongshu is always hidden between the trivialities and absurdities of the world, and is a gentle call for the soft side of human nature.
Looking at this list of development materials, it is not only the technical details of game design, but also a microcosm of the mental state of modern people: wandering between complexity and absurdity, testing the boundaries of labor and entertainment, and finding their own meaning in the gap between virtuality and reality. If Qian Zhongshu had written about this incident, he would have given it more philosophy and irony, reminding people not to be misled by appearances or burdened by vanity, but to see the truth behind the prosperity and maintain their true self.