When "Grandma" – a tiny Game Boy game under just five minutes – unexpectedly went viral in China, no one was more surprised than its creator, 32-year-old Zhou Yichen.

According to Xinmin Evening News, Zhou designed the game single-handedly on hardware more than three decades old. It has none of the trappings of modern gaming – no voice acting, no intricate plots, no cinematic action sequences.

The player has only one task: take care of a grandmother who has fallen and injured herself. Yet everyone who has played the game shared the same thought : "That's precisely what makes it so touching."

The arrow keys move you around her modest home; the buttons allow only "yes or no" options: Will you sit with grandma at the dinner table? Do you want to let her rest in bed? Are you going to wheel her outside for a stroll?

Each "yes" leads to a silent animation: grandma slowly walking to the table, easing herself into a chair, or smiling as she rolls outside for fresh air.

And that's it. No level up. No achievements. Just caregiving, repeated until rest.

The details sting with authenticity. On the dining table sits a can of citrus soda Zhou's grandmother loved. Step outside with her wheelchair, and she chats with a neighbor, just like what she used to do with her closest friend.

In real life, Zhou's grandmother rarely went out. But after Zhou moved in to care for her, she finally had more chances to see old friends. Those moments, he says, were when she was happiest, according to the report.

For Zhou, "Grandma" wasn't meant to be a viral sensation, but a private memorial.

In the spring of 2024, his 95-year-old grandmother fell at home. She survived, but her health never fully recovered. At the time, Zhou returned to China after graduating from an art school in New York, and became his grandmother's primary caregiver.

Feeding her, helping her bathe, wheeling her outside, monitoring every small shift in her condition – it was relentless. "You can't relax for even a moment," he recalls.

Watching her decline, Zhou felt helpless. So he decided to keep her, at least in pixels.

For a long time, "Grandma" sat unfinished. Zhou had designed the main plot but didn't figured out how it should end.

Then, in September 2024, he dreamed of a bird carrying his grandmother away. Weeks later, she passed away. Zhou did not cry. He busied himself with the rituals of farewell, but grief lingered in memory, the report said.

Right after the funeral, he picked up the unfinished game again and finally worked out the ending: After putting grandma to bed, the character dreams of that bird. When he wakes, she is gone. Only the road outside the house remains, stretching on, with the player walking alone.

Why has "Grandma" resonated so widely? Zhou never set out to engineer emotion. He simply recorded his life, pixel by pixel.

"The game doesn't keep her alive," Zhou says quietly. "All it can hold are memories."