—Go on up and play for Dad.
Hearing the man’s words, the group exchanged glances; the deeper meaning was clear to them all.
Jiang Yan scrutinized the man. Though his tone seemed kindly, his eyes brimmed with impatience. His right index finger and thumb absently rubbed together, as if he were shuffling cards.
This was a gambler.
The little boy didn’t step forward immediately at his father’s order, but clung fearfully to the railing.
“You live off me, eat off me, and now that I need you, you chicken out?” The man didn’t even bother to put on an act now; his face twisted into a vicious sneer. He called over the staff. “Make him go up!”
The boy clamped himself onto the railing, but the man pried each finger loose, handing over both the three fingers and his son to the staff.
“Useless, just like your whiny mother, can’t do a damn thing,” the man cursed nastily. “I’ve played twice. I’m not paving your way. You think I don’t know what you’re planning? You’re just like your dead mother, you’re both waiting for me to die, that’s all you want, for me to die!!”
“Go play!!”
The staff accepted the three game tokens and placed the trembling boy on the carousel.
“Ten minutes till the next round! Anyone who wants to play, kids or adults, please get on soon!” The staff called through a megaphone.
After the call, he stood by the rail collecting tokens as a few more children and three adults joined the carousel.
Jiang Yan understood the setup.
Both adults and children could play the carousel, but once the third round was reached by any player, a death was likely triggered. That’s why the man refused to play a third time and forced his son to go.
And if the boy couldn’t figure out the correct way to play, he’d explode like fireworks at the end of this round.
But more clues were needed…
Just as Jiang Yan was about to seek out information, Mu Wang tapped her on the shoulder.
Since entering the game zone with his two “children,” Mu Wang had vanished, disappearing off to some obscure corner with the ease of a seasoned operative. He now reappeared, shoved a flyer into Jiang Yan’s hand, and melted away again.
Mu Wang’s abilities, like Yu Renwan’s, were the nemesis of all clues.
Yu Renwan glanced at Mu Wang’s retreating figure, feeling a new sense of crisis. Peering over at the flyer, she muttered, “Let’s see if it’s actually useful…”
Jiang Yan unfolded the flyer—it was a gamer’s guide for the game zone.
It was clear, though, that this guide wasn’t about rules loopholes. It simply explained how to play.
“Children’s Wish Amusement Park knows everything under the sun. Collect all six stamps, and you’ll receive a summoning token; this little deity can answer all your questions.”
“There are four games you can collect stamps from. You can only choose one between Carousel and Bumper Donkeys,” Yu Renwan read, “The 5D movie and the Giant Blade game are both mandatory. Complete three games within one hour, and you get five bonus game tokens.”
“Since it’s Wednesday and entry is free, the first round for each game is free as well. Each game—adult and child combined—allows three tries. The second and third attempts each cost three tokens.”
“Any game, once cleared, can be replayed infinitely.”
“Children’s Wish Park prides itself on being different—every game has its own correct method of play. All players, big and small, are encouraged to find these solutions.”
Jiang Yan flipped to the back; the ways to earn game tokens were simply labelled:
—“Omitted.”
Yu Renwan: “……..”
Viewers just joining the livestream: 【………】
【I’m dying, just entered the stream, and the first thing I see is that big word.】
【It’s like those math workbooks: ‘See answer sheet, Q23: omitted.’ The horror.】
【My life: omitted, omitted, omitted～】
Jiang Yan’s eye twitched a little, but fortunately, the back had more information.
“There is true feeling and true love in this world. Any parent who’s lost a child can come find a new one in the park. Any child who’s lost a parent can seek a new family.”
“No one in this park will be left alone!”
The information was clear.
First, every game in the park had a unique, unconventional way to win.
Second, anyone playing a specific game for the third time risked death.
Third, if either adult or child died, the survivor must quickly find a new partner, or else they will be wiped out by the park for being alone.
The first two points were manageable, but the third was troubling.
They would have to watch the other people in the park—for instance, that gambler father just now. To survive and get what he wanted, he wouldn’t hesitate to snatch any child after his own died.
Finishing the flyer, Jiang Yan folded it and slipped it into her pocket. Looking around, she saw that Mu Wang had already disappeared—who knew where he’d gone this time.
Shen Huanhuan had finished reading, too. She watched the carousel intently, thinking through its mechanics.
This carousel was different from any ordinary one: each horse spun only partway, a third of a circle at most, and the inner and outer rows spun in opposite directions. At each partial turn, the horses swapped directions and returned to the starting point, then reversed again—never once completing a full circle.
The tempo followed the music, which sped up and slowed down unpredictably. Riders had to cling tight to avoid being thrown off.
“The flyer said if we clear three games in an hour, we get a bonus, so the first three can’t be too hard—especially the first two,” Shen Huanhuan analyzed.
Jiang Yan agreed.
“I think the trick in the first game is to make a full revolution. We’ll need to switch seats three times, probably timing it so we change horses when the inner and outer circles cross. If we do it right, we’ll complete a full circle.”
She paused, then added, “Maybe the choice of mount matters, too.”
Shen Huanhuan scanned the colorful horses. They came in all heights and hues, some covered in furry blankets.
“Let’s look for clues before this round starts,” Jiang Yan said, checking her phone. “We have fifty minutes left in the hour.”
“Let’s try to earn those five game tokens.”
Everyone nodded. Zhao Kepu tossed his turtle shell again—confirmed that ten minutes from now, no one would be feeling sad or upset—then scampered off to look for hints.
The group circled the carousel. Shen Huanhuan tried talking to the staff; Yu Renwan vibrated with eagerness to curse them.
Jiang Yan stopped her.
“If you want to curse, do it on the boy,” she said, pointing to the one forced onto the ride by his gambler father. “These two NPCs showed up together, and their conversation was so natural—they must have a backstory.”
Yu Renwan protested, “But if the clue drops from the boy, someone will have to go in and fetch it.”
Jiang Yan was unbothered. “It’s fine. I’ll go in this round.”
Yu Renwan hurried to object, “Then let me—”
Jiang Yan cut her off. “You’re the only one holding three tokens. If I fail, I might need to borrow yours. I’ll do this myself for now.”
After brief discussion, this was settled.
After Yu Renwan cursed the boy, Jiang Yan entered the carousel area and picked up a slip of paper that had fallen from the boy.
The boy looked confused. “Is that mine…?”
Jiang Yan replied, “No, you’re mistaken.”
The boy nodded, clutching the horse’s neck.
The paper contained the boy’s childhood story, written like a school essay:
“My Mom and Dad”
【My name is An An. When I was little, I knew my parents were different. At kindergarten’s Children’s Day, the teacher told us to bring both parents for games, but I couldn’t.】
【Right before the activities ended, my mom came. I was so excited. I introduced her to everyone, even my teacher was happy for me. We played games; our legs were tied together for the three-legged race, but Mom kept crying. She said Dad had hit her again.】
【If only I hadn’t helped Mom report it that day—then Dad wouldn’t have beaten her under the bed after coming home. Mom asked me if I wanted to leave with her. She’d run away so many times—always caught and beaten up. No one in the village would help, but now there was an uncle who would. She told me to go, but I refused.】
【Because I’d heard Dad say, if Mom dared take me, he’d kill her with a knife. I was so scared; I just wanted Mom to be safe.】
【Mom left. Dad was gone for a few days. I ate all the bread at home. Someone kicked the door in; it stank outside. Grandma came and took me. She gave me tomato sugar water—I loved it. But soon Dad took me back. He owed a lot gambling, wanted to sell me since I was worth something.】
【I ran to Mom’s new home. She was asleep. That uncle was fierce, wouldn’t let me in, he wasn’t nice at all—he tricked Mom.】
【I jumped off a big truck. The uncle and Dad both chased me.】
【At the bottom of the hill, I saw a dried-up red amusement park.】
【Mom likes dried flowers; she says even wilted ones can be beautiful. Mom never lied to me—she didn’t this time, either. If there are real gods, I wish to be a merry-go-round horse next time: circle Mom forever, never leave her again.】
Jiang Yan looked up at the carousel’s central pillar, encircled by painted horses. The pillar was decorated with children’s doodles—though highly abstract.
What she’d thought were cloud patterns looked more like flowing hair, high towers were a woman’s body; candies became eyes, the heart was a mouth, the two butterflies were ears.
Jiang Yan put away the note and circled the pillar, spotting a childish sentence in a corner.
【An An hopes to see Mom every time he opens his eyes.】
So Jiang Yan sought out the three horses corresponding to the “eyes” in the mural.
After checking them in turn, she lifted a black blanket from the third. At first glance, it looked ordinary, but on closer inspection, it was woven from strands of a woman’s hair. It was cool to the touch, pleasantly soothing even in the summer heat.
Not the chill of death, but genuinely comforting.
Jiang Yan seated herself on that third horse.
Half a minute later, sweet, cheerful music started. With the secret of the game known, the challenge was minimal, especially for the first of the set; the ghost behind the field hadn’t bothered to complicate it further.
Jiang Yan had memorized the music during an earlier round. As the prelude began, she quickly picked up the boy and together, front and back, rode the horse. At every seat-change, she lifted the boy with her. He struggled briefly but then went limp.
After the third switch, Jiang Yan relaxed.
“Close your eyes now,” she said. “When the music stops, open your eyes and look at the pillar.”
The boy nodded. “Okay.”
Three minutes later, the music softened to a close.
As the last note echoed around the park, the boy slowly opened his eyes. He did not explode. Outside, the gambler father’s wild, manic grin cracked—then he suddenly burst apart, blood spraying several meters high.
The boy was entirely unaffected.
He turned and looked at Jiang Yan. “Sister, I have a present for you.”
Jiang Yan looked down. “What is it?”
The boy pressed his hands to his lips, then fluttered them open like a little butterfly, giving her a “kiss.”
【It’s a kiss, a kiss!!】
【My heart, he’s just like a little angel!!】
【From his essay, he’s not the ghost—he’s a child who rolled down the slope to the abandoned park and died here, isn’t he?】
【That’s what it seems like, yeah…sob.】
An An whispered, “Not every child is as well-behaved as An An.”
Jiang Yan nodded.
She asked, “You can’t be left alone here, so now your dad is gone—why not stick with me? I can take two.”
Outside the fence, little Yu Renwan leaned so far forward she nearly toppled, straining to hear. “Why isn’t she coming out yet? Isn’t she afraid of blowing up?”
Little Jiang Yan barely glanced over before returning her gaze to the balloons. “She’s tricking the boy.”
Little Yu Renwan: “Oh…so what’re you doing?”
Little Jiang Yan: “I’m thinking about how to trick a kid, too.”
Little Yu Renwan was suddenly enthusiastic: “Who do you wanna trick? I’ll help!”
Little Jiang Yan kept watching the balloons.
A few minutes later, Jiang Yan came out on her own. An An had refused her invitation and said he could be alone.
Everyone gathered around, curious. Jiang Yan pulled out her stamp card.
On it, a bright red stamp gleamed:
“An An’s Carousel (Cleared)”