Move over, pandas. Chinese state media and policymakers have crowned a new cultural “magic weapon,” a soft power export that’s being received enthusiastically around the world. This magic weapon? It’s a video game.
After years of intense anticipation, independent Chinese studio Game Science launched Black Myth: Wukong in August to instant global acclaim, selling 10 million copies in just three days — one of the fastest debuts in gaming history.
State media outlets like CCTV and Xinhua, which have long been critical of gaming’s influence on the youth, lauded Wukong as a cultural triumph, pointing to the game’s huge potential to introduce global audiences to Chinese heritage. Xinhua declared, “Wukong has leaped beyond the East China Sea, carrying with it the essence of our cultural spirit.”
Some policymakers called Wukong’s global appeal “China’s K-pop moment,” signaling that China may be able to wield soft power. People’s Daily, the Chinese Communist Party’s official mouthpiece, stated that “game developers should use games to promote the nation’s culture.” It said that Game Science’s success was rooted in its ability to fulfill this mission, comparing the hit game’s impact to a “cultural visa” to win over international audiences.
“Wukong has leaped beyond the East China Sea, carrying with it the essence of our cultural spirit.”
That praise is surprising considering China’s long-standing issues with gaming. The country is home to the world’s largest gaming industry, but it’s tightly controlled. Minors are strictly limited to playing just one hour per day. Games are subject to a heavy degree of censorship: In one popular shooting game, enemies emit green puffs of smoke, instead of blood, when shot. A state media outlet even called online games “spiritual opium,” an especially sensitive term in China. The story was later amended to remove the term, but not before sparking a sell-off in shares of Tencent, the country’s gaming giant.
Wukong has marked a sharp shift, with government departments even getting involved. The Shanxi Department of Culture and Tourism, in northwestern China, seized the moment, releasing a video showcasing the real-world locations that inspired the game’s landscapes. The hospitality industry, too, capitalized on Wukong’s success. Gaming-themed hotels saw rooms fully booked and equipped with top-tier Nvidia graphics cards, offering players an immersive experience.
The global gaming industry is valued at $200 billion — outpacing both film and music. China is the world’s biggest gaming market with nearly 700 million players. Industry consultancy Newzoo projects the country’s video-game market revenue will reach $45 billion this year, compared to $47 billion in the U.S. market, which has about 210 million players. Chinese tech giant Tencent is the world’s largest game distributor, reporting $25.6 million from mobile game sales in 2023. Leading industry forecasters project China’s gaming market to surpass $57 billion in revenue in 2027.
An editorial by official state press agency Xinhua said China should take this opportunity to leverage gaming’s popularity to boost domestic demand and revive a slowing economy weighed down by low investor confidence and consumer spending.
But Wukong’s success was far from certain, because it’s an outlier in the Chinese gaming industry. The country’s developers specialize in free-to-play mobile games like Genshin Impact and Honor of Kings. Given the massive number of smartphone users, these games can be incredibly lucrative. But as their business model relies on enticing players to spend money for in-game items, they’ve often been derided for prioritizing monetization over fun. Game Science founder Feng Ji had been outspoken in his critique of the Chinese gaming industry for focusing on profits instead of creativity, even though his own studio had put out numerous mobile games.
Wukong is what’s known as an “AAA” title in the industry, the gaming equivalent of a blockbuster film: spectacular, big-budget affairs released for powerful gaming PCs and consoles like the PlayStation 5, not smartphones. They often have fewer players than mobile games, but dominate conversation online and garner the majority of awards from critics. These games traditionally come from Japan, the United States, and Europe — places with a long history in the industry. Wukong is the first hit AAA game from China, making it a source of immense national pride.
What’s especially notable is that Wukong has been able to gain global success while taking inspiration from one of China’s most iconic myths. The game stars Sun Wukong, the Monkey King, from the classic tale Journey to the West. This focus on such an innately Chinese story was a gamble at a time when global public perceptions of China are increasingly negative.
Veteran developer Stephen Gou told Rest of World he credited Wukong’s success to its focus on quality and clear rejection of mobile gaming’s profit-first approach. Industry insiders believe that the cultural aspects of the game contributed to its warm reception by state media, making it a symbol of China’s soft power, said Sean, a Chinese game developer, requesting to use only his English name because his employer is Game Science’s competitor.
Daniel Camilo, a gaming consultant based in Shenzhen, China, pointed to clever marketing as a way that Wukong was able to grab attention from a global audience. “No matter how good a game is, it lives or dies by its marketing,” he told Rest of World. Wukong’s flashy first trailer was a “masterstroke,” he said. “The initial reveal looked stunning and very polished, and that’s really most of what it takes to get gamers hyped.”
Wukong’s cultural storytelling garnered praise from critics internationally, though not without some reservations. Gaming site IGN lauded the game’s “rich Chinese culture” and visual splendor, steeped in Journey to the West, while GameSpot celebrated its faithful portrayal of legendary figures like Zhu Bajie and the Bull Demon King. Yet both reviews noted that its deep mythology might perplex those unfamiliar with the classic tale.
“No matter how good a game is, it lives or dies by its marketing.”
While Feng’s leap from mobile gaming to Wukong was daring, his crude and often sexist remarks have sparked backlash, particularly from women in the global gaming community. Notably absent from Chinese state accolades for the game is acknowledgement of sexism at Game Science — exemplified by problematic recruitment posters and derogatory social media comments from leadership.
Chinese nationalists have also seized on the game’s success, using it as a symbol of the country’s superiority and attacking critics online. On platforms like Weibo, critics of the game were accused of being anti-China, with some claiming detractors were deliberately trying to undermine the country’s achievements.
These controversies underscore the complexities of China’s soft power strategy. For every accolade a Chinese game receives, questions remain about its potential to project a controlled narrative of Chinese cultural supremacy.
Camilo still sees “Wukong” as a game-changer: “[It] marks a paradigm shift in how Chinese games are perceived globally.” While earlier successes like Genshin Impact often lacked a distinct Chinese identity, Wukong’s unmistakably Chinese content has rewritten that narrative, he said.
Wukong’s success will undoubtedly lead more Chinese games to seek a global audience while embracing local culture. But Sean, the Chinese developer, worries that the immense success and state backing for Wukong could spark a wave of copycats, risking the dilution of its groundbreaking impact.
“Chasing the same formula may offer quick wins, but it risks draining the excitement that made Wukong special,” he said.
