FPE Chapter 36

The Park Director is Kind

Fantasy Amusement Park’s children’s area had been open for three days. Auntie Liu brought her four kids there every single day. At first, she kept a close eye on the children the whole time, wishing she could split herself into four people. Later, she found that the kids were having the time of their lives in the park, and that the beautiful dryads were patient and gentle when dealing with children, so she gradually put her mind at ease and began strolling leisurely around the park with the other parents.

“Ah, the flower crowns and little fairies aren’t for us adults.”

Someone nearby said, “How come we didn’t have this kind of luck when we were kids!”

“At least I got to borrow one from my child for a moment — kids are so precious about their little fairies, they let me take one look and then took it right back.”

Auntie Liu actually quite liked the little fairies too, but at her age, she felt embarrassed to compete with the young folks and the children for flower crowns and little fairies. Just then, she heard a nearby parent say, “There’s a performance up ahead, right? Let’s go take a look.”

Everyone began heading deeper into the park. As for the children, they had all gone wild with excitement, and the park’s intelligent security system was very robust, so the parents could now let go with complete peace of mind.

The children’s area had thirty-two staff members, each with a different skill. Auntie Liu followed the other parents further in and was drawn along the way to a young dryad sitting on a tree trunk. Truthfully, these dryads were each extraordinarily beautiful — Auntie Liu couldn’t tell the males from the females at all. The children and staff all called them “dryad sisters,” so Auntie Liu simply assumed they were all girls by default. She looked up at the dryad sitting in the tree and asked, “Miss, what are you doing up there?”

The dryad was carving a piece of wood. She had originally not wanted to pay attention to any humans, but remembering the work Naweia had spoken of, she dutifully replied, “I’m making soul-soothing bracelets. They help with sleep — anyone who has trouble sleeping can use one.” The humans here clearly weren’t speaking the dryads’ language, yet every dryad could understand them perfectly and communicate fluently in return. They attributed this to the park director’s extraordinary power, and deep in their hearts they held that director in great awe and reverence.

Elderly people tend to sleep lightly, and Auntie Liu spent her days looking after the children but often couldn’t sleep at night. Her health wasn’t great either. But she had enormous faith in the park’s advanced technology, and upon hearing this she said, “Can I have one?”

Each dryad had her own unique craft. This particular dryad had a rather shy personality — the moment she saw how many guests were coming to be served, she had retreated up into the tree. Over those three days she hadn’t fulfilled a single order. Every night at the dryads’ meeting, she was at the very bottom of the performance rankings, and she had been deeply envious of her companions who could weave flower crowns and craft little fairies. Now that a guest actually wanted something from her, she couldn’t help feeling a small flutter of excitement. “Of course.”

She lifted one finger, and from one of the tree hollows a soft glow of pale green light spilled out, carrying a bracelet that drifted right up to Auntie Liu. The fantastical sight left Auntie Liu feeling utterly overwhelmed and touched. She thanked the dryad repeatedly and received the bracelet with both hands. The scene drew the attention of others nearby, and many visitors only then realized there was a place to receive gifts. They surged over all at once. The sudden crowd flustered the dryad and left her scrambling — she hurriedly retreated deeper into the thick foliage, yet she still dutifully sent bracelets to every visitor who asked for one, like an automatic delivery machine.

Whether it was her imagination or not, Auntie Liu felt noticeably lighter in her body the moment she put on the bracelet. She strolled slowly with her hands clasped behind her back to watch the dryads’ performance, and thought it was even better than anything on television. After the show, she felt thoroughly satisfied and wandered off to explore the rest of the park.

In the children’s swimming area, some kids had gotten into a quarrel over a few bubble balls — and then a dryad suddenly surfaced from the bottom of the pool, lifted her long, graceful neck, opened her mouth, and blew out a string of multi-colored bubble balls. These bubble balls didn’t dissolve in water; they floated on the surface of the pool and could even be cradled in the children’s palms. The noisy dispute quietly dissolved on its own.

In the slide area, a chubby little girl nearly tumbled to the ground — and then a cluster of soft vines came creeping over, weaving themselves into a hammock that caught her safely and steadily. The hammock rocked gently back and forth on its own, and the fright faded from the little girl’s face as she broke into happy, giggling laughter.

In the climbing area, children chattered away as they grabbed vine-made rings and pulled themselves upward, while the little fairy companions fluttered around them, scattering glittering pollen to cheer them on…

“This is wonderful!” Auntie Liu had gone all the way around, and before she knew it she had wandered out of the children’s area and arrived at the Purple Lake. This spot had caught her eye on the very first day, and it was only now that she finally came over. Sitting by the lake, she found herself involuntarily thinking of the happiest memory of her life. Not the day she got married. Not the day she gave birth. Not the day she watched her two sons start families of their own. It was when she was young, working at a factory. Back then the country had opened up its reforms, and economies everywhere were taking off. She had packed her bags and left the countryside to work in the city. On evenings and rest days she would go out shopping and window browsing with the other women from the factory, dressing herself up however she pleased. Whenever something new came along, or a star released a new album, she knew about it before the disc vendors did. Back then, she had been a young woman who chased trends and fashion too. But now, walking through the park, she couldn’t understand a single word the young people around her were saying.

Auntie Liu found herself quietly shedding tears without realizing it. The elderly woman beside her watched with a sigh of empathy. “Younger sister, is this your first time here? Come a few more times and you’ll get used to it.” She said with heartfelt understanding, “Who wasn’t a young girl once, after all!”

Auntie Liu found this perfectly useless remark strangely comforting, and nodded in agreement. Then she heard the other woman say, “From the look of you, I bet you haven’t been to the other parts of the park yet! Let’s be company for each other and go to the Abandoned Park to fight some monsters!”

Auntie Liu quickly waved her hands. “No, no, that’s for young people.”

The other auntie said, “Hmph, the park never said old folks can’t go — we bought our tickets, and we’re here to enjoy ourselves. I heard that the monster-fighting exercise is even better than the outdoor equipment at the regular park. Everyone who’s gone says it’s great, and going regularly is supposed to do wonders for your complexion and beauty!” Before Auntie Liu could get another word in, the woman took her by the arm and hauled her away. Auntie Liu went along, half-reluctant and half-willing.

Later, Auntie Liu and a group of fellow aunties formed the “Golden Years” squad, and their scores on the Merit Leaderboard left many young men far behind.

But that, of course, was a story for another day.

Before long, noon arrived, and the flow of visitors in the children’s area gradually thinned. On the arc-shaped performance stage at the center of the children’s area, the dryads finished their last show and were about to take their one-hour lunch break.

This was the schedule the park director had agreed upon with them before the park opened: working hours were from eight in the morning to six in the evening every day, with a one-hour lunch break from noon to one o’clock, and two days off per month.

By ordinary Earth people’s standards, this would have been considered a grueling schedule. For the dryads, however, it felt quite relaxed. After all, the world they had come from had no proper working system to speak of — those who had captured dryads had squeezed every last drop from them, never treating them as a sentient species at all.

Naweia finished singing a song on stage, bowed gracefully to the audience, and collected a round of applause from the visitors before heading backstage. It was then that she heard the soft, tearful crying of a small child.

The compassion for the weak that was innate to the dryads’ nature made Naweia stop in her tracks. She walked toward the child and patiently asked what was wrong.

The little girl reached out and, to Naweia’s surprise, gave her a reassuring pat on the head. “Dryad sister, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for what was done to you.”

Naweia said, “Why do you say that?”

The little girl replied, “I saw it on the information board at the entrance. It said dryads are a species that loves beauty and peace, but were hunted and enslaved by cruel humans. Wuu wuu wuu, I’m a human too…”

Naweia paused for a moment, then slowly smiled. She leaned down and kissed the little girl on the forehead — in dryad ritual, this act represented a blessing. With a dryad’s blessing bestowed upon her, the little girl would be watched over, and most illness and misfortune would keep its distance from her from this day forward. “It’s alright. We dryads can tell humans apart. I know you have never harmed us. Thank you.”

The little girl stared at her with wide, bewildered eyes. Naweia plucked a leaf, rolled it between her fingers, and made her a little fairy. The little girl let out a delighted gasp, then pattered away at the sound of her parents calling her.

****

At noon, the dryads rested by sinking their root systems into the earth and exchanging information with one another.

Since they were unable to leave the children’s area and couldn’t see what lay outside, they had not yet realized they were in a different world entirely. They simply assumed this was another strange land far from the Kingdom of Theodore — after all, the clothing, customs, and language of the humans here were completely different from those of the Kingdom of Theodore.

“How has everyone been feeling these past few days?”

“I’ve found that the humans here are very friendly. A few aren’t very polite, but none of them carry any aura of blood or cruelty.”

“Most of the children are very sweet. The ones that aren’t so sweet are still easy to coax. A little fairy or a bubble ball sorts it out.”

“I noticed that the park director has been telling the visitors the story of us dryads.” Naweia recounted what had happened with the little girl, and the other dryads fell silent. After a long pause, one of them finally said quietly, “The park director is a person of integrity.”

Yes — integrity. Not like the humans of the Kingdom of Theodore, who hunted and enslaved dryads while simultaneously erasing the history and civilization of the dryad people, and still had the hypocrisy to dress themselves up as the righteous side. More than all the small kindnesses that had come before, this sense of justice moved the dryads most deeply.

Naweia said, “Then when our communication window comes around — once every half-month — I will pass word to the Clan Chief of the park director’s kindness.”

Under the contract signed earlier, relaying messages at regular intervals was one of the agreed-upon terms. The dryads had their own method of transmission, and they had no concerns about it being deciphered by humans.

Upon hearing this, the other dryads each lifted a section of their root system to express their agreement.

****

The moment Fantasy Amusement Park’s children’s area launched, the response was overwhelming. It quickly became the favorite destination for young children. When Chi Yizhen conducted market research, he discovered that the newest way children greeted each other had become: Do you have a little fairy yet?

Whenever he walked through the park and saw the smiling faces of the little children with their fairy companions fluttering alongside them, he couldn’t help smiling himself. Strolling along the bank of the scenic Purple Lake, Chi Yizhen asked the game, “Is it my imagination, or does being in the park make you feel relaxed without even trying?” This wasn’t just the effect of the Purple Lake — the same feeling came over him in other parts of the park too.

The game answered him, [The player is not imagining it. As the park continues to level up, the extraordinary factors here are gradually growing richer. Feelings of joy and happiness will slowly fill the entire park and influence everyone who comes here.]

“Does that mean my park could develop in the direction of a wellness retreat?” Chi Yizhen rubbed his chin in thought, but after a moment he dropped the idea. After all, a wellness retreat had absolutely nothing to do with an amusement park.

At noon, when he was eating with the staff, he heard Chen Hui ask, “Park Director, the colleagues in the children’s area never come to eat with us, do they?” She had been curious about this for several days.

Chi Yizhen replied casually, “No need — they handle that themselves.”

Chen Hui was taken aback. “How do they handle it?”

At that moment, Meng Xiaodai suddenly spoke up and deftly redirected the conversation, sparing Chi Yizhen from the awkwardness. “Oh, right, Park Director — a lot of visitors have been giving feedback that it’s really inconvenient that there’s no food for sale anywhere in the park. Shouldn’t we bring in a small shop or something? Quite a few vendors have been giving me their business cards lately, saying they’d like to open a little store in the park.”

Chi Yizhen turned this down without a second thought. “A money-making opportunity like this — why should we let outsiders get a piece of it?”

Meng Xiaodai: …

Chi Yizhen slurped a mouthful of noodles and said, “You don’t need to worry about that. I’ve already found free labor — cough, I mean, I’ve already found the right vendor to bring in.”

Meng Xiaodai ventured cautiously, “Someone who isn’t an outsider?”

Chi Yizhen thought to himself that extraordinary beings from another world probably couldn’t count as a person — he nodded and said no more.

The next day, a rumor suddenly began circulating through Fantasy Amusement Park, saying that the boss’s wife was going to open a food shop in the park.

Chi Yizhen: …..