The design of this game was relatively complex. To prevent the production process from turning into a chaotic mess, Xie Yunfan decided to divide the development into stages based on three core systems.

First was the Formation System. The design of this system was relatively straightforward: different formations represented different character placements, providing different buffs to the team.

Because the content of Turbulent Spring and Autumn was extremely rich—including character cultivation, formation synergy, and the Thirty-Six Stratagems—if all three systems required a heavy “grind,” the player pressure would be too high. Over time, players would inevitably burn out and abandon the game.

When Xie Yunfan played games himself, what he hated most was a game that was “both pay-to-win and a heavy grind.”

He wanted playing games to be about relaxation and entertainment, not a burden. Therefore, his main principles for designing games were: first, it had to be fun; second, it had to be relatively casual.

He would strictly control the monetization points of this game. The primary paywall would be centered on the “gacha pull.” Characters would need to be summoned, while other resources would be given out generously.

In many games, players had to roll gacha for characters, weapons, and skins alike, creating far too many monetization points.

As long as the game became a hit, they could sell skins later on. If the pricing was fair, plenty of players would naturally be willing to buy a change of clothes for their favorite characters, so he wasn’t worried about profitability at all.

As for the Formation System—a total of ten formations—he planned to hand them directly to players through main story quests rather than forcing players to spend money to buy them or grind dungeons to exchange for them.

As the main story progressed, players would gradually learn and master different formations.

The key to this system mainly lay in the numerical values.

Meng Yu, the director of the Data Team, had graduated from a renowned foreign university with a degree in mathematics and was currently the female employee with the highest academic credentials at Yangfan Studio. She had worked for several years as a numerical designer at another company before joining Yangfan Studio, where she had been following Xie Yunfan on projects ever since.

However, the previous games hadn’t placed particularly high demands on “numerical values.”

Role-playing games like Imperial Court Storm and Detective Di Renjie focused primarily on plot, without many requirements for complex skills or data.

Meanwhile, Millennium Love was a single-player game with no PK mechanics. The male leads’ cards only provided basic stat boosts like attack or attack speed. As long as the numbers in a single-player game weren’t ridiculously broken, designing a stepped leveling system and experience-acquisition channels was extremely simple.

In those earlier games, Meng Yu’s talents hadn’t really been fully put to use.

This game, however, placed exceptionally high demands on numerical design. A combat game had to achieve relative skill balance; there couldn’t be skill mechanisms that were overly dominant or capable of instantly wiping out other characters.

A character’s defense, attack, critical strike rate, and speed—all data needed to be meticulously calculated. Coupled with the “Thirty-Six Stratagems” and the “Formation System,” the sheer volume of data work to be done was staggering.

For Meng Yu, this was also a major test.

Xie Yunfan looked at her and said, “Let’s start with the simplest one: the formations. Formations are simply different character placements that grant different buffs to the entire team.”

Meng Yu asked, “Equivalent to an… environmental buff?”

Xie Yunfan nodded. “Exactly. The buff from a formation is fixed, so it’s relatively easier to design. Let’s first determine the buff values for each set of formations. What’s the most reasonable way to calculate them?”

Meng Yu pondered for a moment before saying, “Because character levels vary, balancing fixed numerical buffs is difficult. I think calculating by percentages would be more reasonable. The stronger the character’s base stats, the higher the buff granted by the formation. Once everyone reaches max level, the formations will naturally be balanced.”

“I think so too.” Xie Yunfan nodded and opened the PPT in the conference room, listing ten formation proposals to finalize one by one.

“When players are in the Arena, a lineup requires six characters on the field. For example, the One-Line Long Snake Formation has six characters lined up in a single row, like a long serpent. This formation balances offense and defense, so it can grant a bit of both defense and attack.”

He looked at Meng Yu. “Keep the buff at around 10%. As for the exact number, after all ten formations are fully implemented, your team can adjust them based on balance testing.”

Meng Yu immediately nodded and took notes. “Understood.”

Xie Yunfan said, “Every formation we have will feature a critical ‘Eye of the Formation.’ For example, ‘striking a snake seven inches from its head’—the weakness of the Long Snake Formation lies right at the seven-inch mark, which is the second person from the left in the team. If the enemy kills this Eye of the Formation first, they can break the formation and clear its buff effect.”

Meng Yu understood instantly. “In other words, the formation’s buff will only vanish after its core position dies. If characters in other positions die, it won’t affect the buff effect?”

Xie Yunfan: “Exactly. The Eye of the Formation is extremely important.”

To prevent players from forgetting, special lighting effects could be used during battle to mark the location of the Eye of the Formation.

If a player killed the Eye first, they could neutralize the opponent’s formation. But if the opposing player deliberately placed an extraordinarily tanky character at the Eye, you could also choose to eliminate their key damage dealers first instead.

Both combat tactics and formation deployments would be flexible and ever-changing.

Xie Yunfan continued introducing the remaining formations: “In the Double Dragons Emerging from Water Formation, six characters are arranged in two columns of three. Charging on both flanks, they cover each other and can break through the enemy’s defensive line the fastest. This formation increases the entire team’s speed. The Eyes of the Formation are the two people in the middle of each column—killing either one can break the formation.”

This was a classic “Speed Formation.”

In turn-based games, speed was extremely critical; acting first versus acting second made a world of difference. For instance, if you had a burst-damage character who acted first, you could instantly take out one opponent, creating a favorable “numerical advantage” scenario.

It was easy to foresee that the speed-boosting “Double Dragons Formation” would be immensely popular among players when the time came.

As for the exact numerical boost, the numerical designers would need to balance it meticulously according to character skill settings—it couldn’t be tuned to an absurd degree. If all six characters on our side got to act first while the opponent just stood there watching, what would be the point of playing?

Next, Xie Yunfan detailed the design concepts for the other formations.

For example, the “Heaven, Earth, and Man Three Talents Formation” arranged the team into three horizontal rows—front, middle, and back—corresponding to Heaven, Earth, and Man respectively. It was another balanced offensive and defensive formation, with its Eye located in the front row.

In the “Four Elements Formation,” four characters stood in a square with the remaining two in the middle. This formation increased the entire team’s max HP, making it suitable for slow-paced playstyles like self-damage teams or tank teams.

The “Five Tigers and Flock of Sheep Formation” formed a V-shaped pattern, excelling at flanking enemies and boosting the whole team’s hit rate. The tip of the “V” was where the core Eye of the Formation resided.

The “Six Dings and Six Jias Formation,” said to be derived from Taoist magic, arranged six people in a circle, like Taoist priests catching ghosts. This formation granted a team-wide critical strike rate buff, capable of bursting down opponents in a single round.

The “Big Dipper Seven Stars Formation” possessed diverse variations and was the most flexible formation of all. Using this formation increased the entire team’s dodge stat, offering a chance at critical moments to dodge enemy control effects and attacks.

The “Eight-Gate Golden Lock Formation” was a highly defensive formation that boosted the team’s overall defense.

In the “Nine-Curve Interlocking Formation,” characters stood staggered front and back in a seemingly chaotic layout that confused enemies, leaving them with nowhere to strike. This formation boosted resistance to negative status effects—a classic resistance formation.

The “Ten-Sided Ambush Formation” deployed hidden weapons and traps within the formation, making it difficult for enemy forces to break through. This formation increased the hit rate of crowd control effects like Confusion, Freeze, and Silence, focusing entirely on field control.

Listening to her boss’s design ideas, Meng Yu felt a brief headache coming on.

With so many formations, achieving numerical balance across all of them would be very difficult—though for her, it was also a massive challenge.

Meng Yu possessed a competitive nature by default. In previous games, the numerical aspect hadn’t been satisfying enough for her at all. This time, however, the boss had unleashed a massive ultimate move right out of the gate.

Attack formations, defense formations, hit-rate formations, speed formations, resistance formations… With so many formations offering different buffs, she would have to go back, write out formulas, and carefully calculate the exact values for each.

And this was only one system.

The Formation System alone featured ten different buff types that players could combine according to their team compositions.

The other systems hadn’t even been built yet, but Meng Yu already felt this game was going to be fascinating—she really wanted to play it herself to see what effects different formations would produce!

After returning to her office, Meng Yu opened her computer and began writing out data formulas.

If a character with 1,000 Attack struck a character with 100 Defense, how much HP should be lost? Should it be calculated directly as 900, or should there be a proportional conversion?

By how many times should critical damage buffs multiply?

To what percentages should the probabilities for effect hit rate, resistance, and dodge be adjusted?

Meng Yu felt both excited and plagued by headaches.

In combat games, achieving “absolute balance” was impossible; even Mecha Apprentice, which was popular worldwide, tweaked skill data every single season.

She could only “strive for balance as much as possible.”

This time, the Data Team she led was certainly going to have their hands full!

After finishing the morning meeting with the Data Team, Xie Yunfan summoned the head of the Level Design Team in the afternoon.

The design of the Formation System could be handled entirely by the Data Team. They only needed to construct ten formation layouts along with their specific numerical buffs.

However, the “Thirty-Six Stratagems” system involved active combat skills, making it far more troublesome to implement.

The former Level Design Director, Zhang Su, had been reassigned by Xie Yunfan to serve as the lead for the Detective Di Renjie project team. The current Level Design Director was none other than Xie Yunfan’s college roommate—Ji Yan.

When A-Yan originally joined the company with Xie Yunfan, Xie Yunfan—to avoid any appearance of favoritism—had made him start from the bottom as a regular employee, learning under experienced seniors in the Level Design Team for several years.

Ji Yan had a cheerful and optimistic personality, fitting into the Level Design Team like a fish in water.

Everyone knew he was Xie Yunfan’s college roommate, but Ji Yan never used this relationship to seek personal gain. On the contrary, he remained low-key and humble in his daily work, worried about dragging Xie Yunfan down or bringing shame to their alma mater, which drove him to work with extreme diligence.

In just a few short years, Ji Yan made rapid progress, consistently finishing every task ahead of schedule with outstanding quality. Thus, after Zhang Su was reassigned to lead his own project, Xie Yunfan naturally promoted Ji Yan to Level Design Director out in the open.

When recommending talent, one shouldn’t avoid family or friends.

For a classmate with genuine talent, Xie Yunfan was more than happy to offer him greater opportunities.

However, because the food at Yangfan Studio’s cafeteria was so abundant and delicious, this foodie ate breakfast, lunch, and dinner at the company every day. Recently, he had put on a few more pounds; his chubby face squeezed his eyes into thin slits whenever he smiled, remaining as warm and endearing as in Xie Yunfan’s memories.

When Ji Yan entered the office, Xie Yunfan had his head down, writing documentation.

Ji Yan knocked and stepped inside, scratching his head with a smile: “Boss, you were looking for me?”

Even though they had been college roommates for four years, he was used to addressing him this way at the company. After all, gossip spread easily when many people were around, and he didn’t want others talking behind their backs.

Of course, during private gatherings, calling him “Yunfan” directly still came more naturally.

Xie Yunfan paused his work and looked up at his roommate—the very one who used to let him copy homework back in college—with a smile, saying, “Zhang Su was reassigned to take charge of Detective Di Renjie. Now that you’re the Level Design Director, are you feeling a lot of pressure?”

Ji Yan rubbed his nose and spoke candidly: “Not too much at the moment, since the new project hasn’t officially launched yet. But I feel like the pressure is going to be mountain-high later on—the level design for this game needs comprehensive skill designs and combat mechanics. It sounds like a super massive workload!”

“That’s right. This project is our company’s first networked combat game, so the tasks for both the Data Team and Level Design Team will be extraordinarily heavy.” Xie Yunfan looked at him encouragingly and said, “This is your first time serving as Level Design Director for a major combat game since graduation. A-Yan, work hard—I believe you can do a great job.”

Ji Yan said excitedly, “I understand! I won’t let you down!”

Ji Yan himself had graduated with a major in game design, so his foundational skills were solid. Xie Yunfan had him serve as Level Design Director first to accumulate experience; later, when they developed food-themed games, A-Yan could take charge as the overall project lead.

For a food game, a foodie like Ji Yan would undoubtedly love working on it. Only when a project lead created a game out of genuine passion would players love it even more.

Gathering his thoughts, Xie Yunfan said, “Let’s go—to the conference room.”

When the two of them arrived at the conference room one after the other, the members of the Level Design Team had just finished gathering.

Xie Yunfan opened the laptop he brought with him and introduced: “The main purpose of this meeting is to have you all work on the skill design for the Military Manual System.”

At yesterday’s project launch meeting, Xie Yunfan had brought up the “Military Manual System.”

The Military Manual System consisted of strategic skills equipped by the players themselves, which differed from character skills.

Character skills were fixed, whereas skills from the Military Manual System could be swapped out.

Xie Yunfan said, “Out of our game’s three core systems, I’ve decided to give the Formation System directly to players through the main plot. At the same time, we’ll implement proper novice guidance so players understand how to use each formation. All ten formations in the game can be obtained for free.”

“The Character System will require players to ‘recruit’—in other words, pull gacha. Which characters they get will be random, making this the primary monetization point of the game.”

He looked at the employees seated below: “As for the Military Manual System, how do you think players should obtain them?”

Several level designers exchanged glances, sinking into deep thought.

After a moment, Ji Yan raised his hand and said, “I think we can create a Military Manual Exploration dungeon. Giving away all ten formations directly is already extremely generous; characters can be pulled through gacha, and big whales dropping tens of thousands of yuan at once might pull over a hundred characters in a single day. If military manuals are given away directly too, pay-to-win players won’t have anything left to play for right at the start.”

Xie Yunfan nodded: “Mm, that makes sense.”

A few other designers conversed in low voices, and one spoke up in agreement: “I also think a Military Manual Exploration dungeon sounds great—making the Thirty-Six Stratagems into an abyss-style challenge dungeon with dozens of floors.”

Ji Yan added, “If we design a Military Manual Exploration dungeon where a manual drops every few floors, players can tackle the challenge floor by floor. Once they clear all the floors, they’ll collect every single military manual. This way, after the game enters open beta, players will need at least one or two months to level up their characters and adjust their lineups just to clear the stages and collect all the manuals, giving them a strong motivation to keep playing.”

Xie Yunfan looked at him appreciatively.

A-Yan really had made significant progress; he even knew how to “leave hooks” in game design now.

In fact, Xie Yunfan’s own idea was also to turn the Military Manual System into a challenge dungeon, giving competitive players and completionists a long-term incentive to keep playing.

In game operations, you could certainly be generous, but if you handed everything to players on a silver platter right at the start… the consequence would be a sharp drop in player retention and a massive wave of players abandoning the game.

When there was nothing left to play for, why wouldn’t they quit?

The Military Manual Challenge Dungeon served as one of the game’s major “hooks.” If players wanted to collect all the military manuals, they had to clear dungeon stages, right? If they wanted to clear every stage, they had to increase their combat power! And how do you increase combat power? By leveling up characters and crafting equipment for them.

It was an entire interconnected chain of mechanics.

Of course, players with no interest in military manuals could stick to the main story, building characters casually according to their personal preferences as a casual game; no one would force them to grind for manuals.

Military manuals were meant for the Arena, catered toward PVP players.

Therefore, the dungeon mechanics for the Military Manual System also needed to feature a certain degree of difficulty.

Xie Yunfan asked, “If we design a challenge dungeon with over a hundred floors, will that put too much pressure on your team?”

Ji Yan replied, “We can do it like this: increase the difficulty every two or three floors—making those specific floors boss battles that require strategic thinking, which will drop the military manuals. The other floors can be cleared easily with casual play, rewarding players with basic resources.”

Xie Yunfan praised, “Not bad! That way, your Level Design Team only needs to design 36 critical stages, featuring high-difficulty lineups that force players to use their brains to clear them. The other stages can be kept simple for players to breeze through while earning card upgrade materials.”

He paused, then added, “36 key stages with scaled difficulty—work out a proposal with the Data Team.”

The team members immediately nodded to indicate their understanding.

Xie Yunfan opened the list for the Military Manual System in his PPT and said, “As for how to distribute and design skills for the thirty-six manuals, everyone can join the discussion as well.”

For the Thirty-Six Stratagems, skill design was paramount.

During the project launch meeting two days ago, Xie Yunfan had only mentioned skills that were relatively easy to design—such as the Empty City Strategy, Borrowing a Knife, Sounding East while Attacking West, and Leading Away a Goat in Passing. There were still many skills left unmentioned.

He intended to brainstorm collectively, encouraging the Level Design Team members to participate actively.

The First Stratagem: Deceive the Heavens to Cross the Ocean (Man Tian Guo Hai).

Ji Yan suggested, “Could this skill be made to conceal our side’s actions from the opponent for a short duration, preventing them from seeing what our characters are doing? That way, the opponent won’t be able to defend against our key skills.”

Xie Yunfan nodded: “We can give that a try.”

The Second Stratagem: Await at Ease for the Exhausted Enemy (Yi Yi Dai Lao). Xie Yunfan said, “Awaiting ease means resting to deal with an enemy coming from afar. It can allow our side to skip a turn in exchange for boosted combat power.”

The designers below nodded repeatedly.

Following this train of thought, designing the rest became much easier.

A recently hired employee boldly raised his hand and asked, “For Loot a Burning House (Chen Huo Da Jie), could it be designed so that if the opposing side is inflicted with a Burn status, our characters can perform a follow-up attack?” He paused, scratching his head sheepishly. “Of course, I’m not entirely sure if our characters’ skills will include Burn statuses…”

Xie Yunfan smiled warmly and said, “Of course they will. We have a vast array of character skills that can be adjusted to match the Military Manual System. Everyone, feel free to unleash your imagination and innovate boldly.”

Encouraged by their boss, everyone began speaking up much more actively.

“Lure the Tiger from the Mountain (Diao Hu Li Shan)—forcibly taunt the opponent’s key character so they can’t attack our main targets?”

“Create Something from Nothing (Wu Zhong Sheng You)—automatically generate a skill that no on-field character possesses?”

“Borrow a Corpse to Resurrect a Soul (Jie Shi Huan Hun)—a fallen ally character can borrow a corpse on the field to revive instantly, acting as a revival skill controlled by the player.”

“Slough Off the Cicada’s Golden Shell (Jin Chan Tuo Qiao)—a crowd-controlled character instantly cleanses negative status effects and regains freedom of movement!”

“Capture the Ringleader to Catch the Bandits (Qin Zei Qin Wang)—target and beat down the character with the highest Attack stat on the opposing side!”

“Beauty Trap (Mei Ren Ji)—I think this should only be usable when female characters are present, causing male characters on the opposing side to be entranced by beauty and unable to move!”

“Then how should Thirty-Six Stratagems: Running Away is the Best Option (Zou Wei Shang Ji) be designed? If you can’t win, just run away—slip away and split?”

“Hahaha, isn’t that a bit shameless…? Maybe it could be designed so that our damaged character temporarily flees the battlefield, then returns after a short while?”

“Wouldn’t that be even more shameless?!”

The discussion grew increasingly lively.

Looking at the harmonious and vibrant scene in the conference room, Xie Yunfan felt deeply gratified.

A large-scale game could never be created by a single person alone; it was the crystallization of a team’s collective wisdom. This combat game in particular involved an immense volume of characters, skills, strategies, and formations.

The design of the formations only involved team positioning and stat buffs, making it relatively easy for him to handle alone. As for the rest of the content, he didn’t want to monopolize everything by designing every single detail before feeding it to his employees.

Involving the employees in the process allowed everyone to contribute.

Perhaps they might even come up with creative ideas he hadn’t thought of himself.

After an afternoon of discussion, everyone felt energized and passionate.

Through repeated scrutiny and debate, the first draft of skill designs for all thirty-six military manuals was fully completed. With the boss providing creative concepts and direction while encouraging everyone to brainstorm together, the work efficiency was truly extraordinary!

On the battlefield, utilizing different military manuals would introduce countless variables to the game. This competitive mode was not only rich in depth, but also immensely fun.

As for the Military Manual Exploration dungeon’s 36 difficult stages—how exactly should they be cleared? When the time came, plenty of top-tier guide creators would surely emerge, allowing players to “copy their homework.”

For every single stage, there would be multiple ways to clear it.

If a massive player base emerged—creating strategy guides, hosting livestreams, and discussing lineup synergies online… the more active the players were, the longer the game’s lifespan would endure.

In later stages, they could even implement “Guild Wars,” letting players fight on massive battlefields together.

By then, talented shot-callers and strategists would naturally emerge—deciding how to deploy troops, which formations to use, and which military manuals to equip…

The official team could even host formal esports tournaments.

Even though it was turn-based, the sense of accomplishment brought by this style of strategic combat was in no way inferior to real-time action games.

After the meeting ended, Ji Yan led the Level Design Team back to begin drafting the design documents for the Military Manual Exploration dungeon, his heart bursting with motivation and excitement.

He had a strong hunch—

This game Yunfan was making this time would definitely become yet another blockbuster hit.

After all, even the development team members themselves were already fired up just discussing it!