The term "low-hanging fruit" comes from economist Tyler Cowen's metaphor for technological stagnation - they are the most easily accessible wealth, like fruits hanging on low-hanging branches that can be picked with a stretch of the hand, pointing to those easily accessible but limited resources.

In his book "The Great Stagnation" published in 2011, it was used to criticize the United States, which relied on idle land resources, demographic dividends, and huge technological progress to accumulate a lot of wealth at that time. After the rapid development reached its peak in the 1970s, the "sweet fruits" were gradually taken and dissipated in the following 40 years.

"The United States stagnated on the plateau of science and technology, and the branches were almost bare."

In Ren Junfeng's practice, the fruits of creation replaced the existence of economic resources. This concept was transformed into a question of contemporary cognitive methods: when knowledge is cut into fragments, when difficult techniques can be condensed and quickly learned in short videos, when creation can become a refreshing game of "picking low-hanging fruits", how should we coexist with the disorder in this nomadic state?

Ren Junfeng's citations of classical paintings always carry the defocused feeling of "second-hand images" - the faces of Renaissance angels are blurred due to online reposting, and the momentum of Baroque sculptures is diluted into low-pixel color dots. The unfinished "decoding" provides fertile ground for the reconstruction of knowledge after fragmentation. These images are both a contemporary interpretation of Benjamin's "dialectical image" - glimpsing the possibility of reconstructing meaning in the shadow of low-hanging fruits; and a transcendence of Taylor Cowen's proposition: when the fruit will eventually rot, the genes in the core will always breed the savage power of upward growth.