How China Fell in Love With Woman-Centric ‘Otome’ Games
This is the second of a three-part series on the changing norms of love and relationships in China. The rest of the series can be found here.
While Black Myth: Wukong has dominated discussions of China’s gaming industry over the past year, there’s a case to be made that 2024’s breakout genre wasn’t the AAA hack-and-slash, but something far quieter: the female-centric otome game.
A little over a year ago, on Jan. 18, 2024, two of China’s biggest gaming studios released dueling otome titles on the same day. Love and Deepspace from the Shanghai-based Infold Games went on to beat out NetEase’s Beyond the World by earning 60 million yuan ($8.2 million) in just three days and eventually stabilizing at around 200 million yuan a month. September brought an even bigger hit: Lingxi Games’ Ashes of the Kingdom, which quickly broke the 300-million-yuan monthly revenue mark, placing it in elite company alongside massive hits like Genshin Impact.
Despite these titles’ success, the otome genre remains fairly obscure outside its community of fans. Originating in Japan, where the word means “maiden” or “unmarried girl,” the genre was pioneered by Keiko Erikawa, one of the founders of Japanese gaming giant Koei, after she realized that the gaming market was almost entirely male-oriented. In 1994, Koei released Angelique, which established the basic format used by otome titles ever since: Players take on the role of a female protagonist, navigating her through a series of simulated romantic relationships with male characters while advancing the plot.
Unlike in Japan, where otome games are still mostly made with consoles and PCs in mind, Chinese otome developers have focused their efforts on mobile devices, beginning with Infold Games’ 2017 title Mr. Love: Queen’s Choice. More otome titles would follow, but Tencent’s 2021 release, Light and Night, marked the first significant turning point in China’s otome industry, dividing “old” titles like Mr. Love or Mihoyo’s Tears of Themis from newer offerings like Ashes of the Kingdom or Love and Deepspace.
The most obvious difference between the two generations is their production technology. Starting with Angelique, every would-be otome game developer has been faced with the same question: How do you display a male body that female players will desire? Angelique solved this problem through tachie — essentially drawings of the male characters in fixed poses — while its sequels added professional voice acting to the mix.
Mr. Love: Queen’s Choice borrowed this formula, wooing players with two-dimensional tachie and well-known male voice actors. The innovation of Light and Night was to introduce new modeling technologies that gave the male characters more visually interesting and flexible appearances.
The impact of this shift on the industry cannot be overstated. The lifelike character models in Ashes of the Kingdom can feel almost magical at times, while the three-dimensional models of Love and Deepspace quickly convinced players to open their wallets.
The other obvious change in recent otome games lies in their narratives. The “old” generation of Chinese otome focused on pure love. Light and Night broke with that approach by using real-name login authentication to block underage players, allowing the developers to cater to an exclusively adult audience with more intimate imagery.
Today, Chinese otome developers tend to describe their formula as “love + desire + X.” The endgame remains true love, but modern titles have more room to frankly explore the desires of their players. The “X,” meanwhile, represents a dose of the unknown, as developers attempt to win over players with increasingly complex worldbuilding that’s designed to cultivate a sense of mystery and attract nontraditional otome gamers.
One side effect of this shift is that the occupations, identities and characters of women in otome games have become more diverse. Gone are the naive, pretty young white-collar professionals of early otome. Now, protagonists are just as likely to be cross-dressing princesses or galactic travelers.
Of course, the rise of otome games has not been without its critics. Due to the way the games are structured, players occupy the bodies of the male characters as well as the protagonists; provided they’re willing to pay for the appropriate content packs, their in-game boyfriends will never say “no.” But what happens when love becomes a consumer relationship? According to some experts, players are unable to accept the existence of others, they will struggle to establish real intimate relationships, and they are learning to only love and desire virtual images.
However, it’s worth noting that these relationships are not as static — or as virtual — as they may first appear. Unlike the single-game purchase model used in Japan, Chinese developers operate on a live-service model, meaning they must constantly introduce new storylines and character cards. The games’ male characters are therefore not fixed commodities or fully embodied existences; rather, they represent a subtle struggle between developer and player. Players will routinely complain about graphics deemed “unattractive” or character text that is too “out of character” and force developers to make changes. At other times, they’ll behave like fans of their favorite partner, jockeying with other players for his favor.
It’s also common to see Chinese players interrogating their desires and preferences online. While the controversy surrounding Chinese-made otome games is unlikely to go away completely, there’s no reason to demonize the genre. After all, who knows what love will look like in a few years?
Translator: David Ball; editor: Wu Haiyun; portrait artist: Wang Zhenhao.
(Header image: A promotional image for “Love and Deepspace.” From the game’s website)
