Although the curtain has fallen on the inaugural National City Hero Championship of league of legends, the esports craze it ignited has not only failed to subside but has intensified, like a giant stone thrown into a lake, its ripples spreading and echoing with greater force into every capillary-like corner of the country.
The end of the official competition was not the end of esports enthusiasm; instead, it was like igniting a massive powder keg, with grassroots, local, and commercial events erupting like mushrooms after rain, on an unprecedented scale and frequency.
In cities big and small across the country, especially those that had produced qualifying teams or hosted fierce competitions, the esports fever reached a boiling point.
Internet cafes became the frontline.
Zhao Qiang, the owner of "Extreme Internet Cafe," is now a locally renowned "esports promoter."
He struck while the iron was hot, not only making the previous internet cafe tournaments monthly events but also teaming up with several nearby internet cafes to organize a "East City vs. West City Showdown."
The prize money was not high, but participants and spectators flocked to it.
In the internet cafes, "five-stack" teams were everywhere, discussing not just ranked scores but increasingly imitating the tactics and hero selections seen in the National Championship.
The bar counter continuously played highlight reels of the "Broken Army" team's championship victory, exciting every player who walked in.
Universities became fertile ground for talent and passion.
At Li Hao's university, although the "Dawn" team was eliminated early in the tryouts, their story inspired many more.
The student union, in conjunction with various departments, organized an unprecedented "Campus league of legends Championship."
Almost every college sent a team, and on competition days, the school auditorium was packed, with an atmosphere comparable to official events.
Enrollment in the esports club grew exponentially, and the president was swamped.
Commercial complexes smelled the scent of traffic.
Many shopping centers and commercial plazas in large and medium-sized cities successively set up temporary esports stages in their central atriums on weekends, hosting activities like "Business District Esports Week" and "Brand Fan Tournaments."
Brands sponsored these events, providing peripherals and prizes, attracting a large number of young people to stop, watch, and sign up.
Esports was integrating into offline consumption scenarios with an unprecedentedly approachable attitude.
Local media and governments quietly turned their attention.
Some local TV stations and online media began to set up esports columns, reporting on local events and outstanding players.
Even a few far-sighted local government sports departments began to tentatively incorporate such grassroots events into the category of mass sports activities, providing some venue or policy conveniences, viewing them as a means to attract young groups and create a youthful city image.
This bottom-up, nationwide wave of events was full of wild vitality and grassroots creativity.
It no longer relied on official organization and promotion but truly became a widespread social phenomenon where player communities spontaneously organized, commercial capital keenly intervened, and local resources attempted to integrate.
Facing this surging blue ocean, the tentacles of capital became more active and concrete.
They were no longer just focused on top IPs like "Broken Army" but set their sights on a broader market.
Specialized esports event execution companies were established to undertake various mall activities and corporate team-building esports competitions.
Data analysis teams launched traffic monitoring and player evaluation services for internet cafes and grassroots events.
Hardware peripheral brands increased their sponsorship of campus and internet cafe tournaments, vying for future core users.
Even some traditional brands that were originally unrelated to gaming began to try sponsoring local events, hoping to reach young consumer groups that were difficult to influence through traditional channels.
The entire market was booming, as if just being associated with "esports" or "league of legends" could attract traffic and attention.
However, amidst the clamor of this national carnival, Riot Games and its founder, Qin Feng, who were at the eye of the storm, exhibited an unusual silence.
The company did not immediately announce plans for the second National Championship, did not massively intervene in or absorb these grassroots events, nor did it show eagerness for the endless commercial collaborations.
Official channels, apart from routine maintenance and patch update announcements, were unusually quiet.
This silence, in stark contrast to the external fervor, drew much speculation and discussion.
"Is Riot Games holding back an Ultimate Ability?"
"Does the official body think grassroots events are too chaotic and want to regulate them?"
"Does Qin Feng feel the goal has been achieved and is preparing to quit while he's ahead?"
Just as various speculations were rampant, Qin Feng posted a brief article titled "Gratitude, and a Better Future" on his personal Weibo and the Riot Games official forum.
The content of the post continued his usual style, sincere and restrained:
"After several months, the first National City Hero Championship has successfully concluded.
At this moment, what I most want to say is still gratitude.
Thank you to all the participating Summoners; it is with your passion and struggle that this legend was written.
Thank you to all supporting players; it is your attention and love that gave the event its soul.
Thank you to all our partners and staff; it is your dedication that ensured the smooth running of the event.
Recently, we have been delighted to see the flame of esports burning brightly in various forms across the country.
This is the best reward for the efforts of all esports professionals and proves that league of legends and esports itself possess an incredibly vibrant vitality.
Please give us some time to summarize the past and to think more deeply and plan for the future.
We always believe that the best gratitude is to create a better, more perfect future.
Please look forward to it.
— Qin Feng"
This post was like a clear stream poured into the boiling clamor.
It expressed gratitude, affirmed the current craze, but did not reveal any specific follow-up plans, nor did it dictate to grassroots events.
This "non-intervention" stance, on the contrary, left enough space and imagination for this wildly growing fertile ground.
Qin Feng knew deeply that the formation of a healthy ecosystem requires both top-level design and guidance, as well as the spontaneous vitality and innovation from the grassroots.
The temporary silence of the official body was not inaction but a calm observation and evaluation of the prairie fire he had personally ignited, contemplating how to both protect this burgeoning grassroots enthusiasm and guide it towards a more regulated, sustainable future.
The grassroots carnival continued, and the capital's restlessness fermented.
And Qin Feng, who created all this, was like a patient gardener, carefully observing the changes in the soil after the clamor, preparing for the next, more meticulous sowing.