After little Jiang Yan fell asleep, Jiang Yan turned off the lamp and lay flat on the bed.
She had a dreamless night.
Thanks to the influence of the energy field, everyone slept soundly until the sun was high. Only when the amusement park’s entrance music played did the group slowly begin to wake up.
The cheerful broadcast echoed in their ears:
“La la la, la la la—”
“The Animation Zone has been open for two hours, and the first batch of guests is already inside. The first event’s time limit is three hours. Second group guests, please prepare to enter!”
The Animation Zone had been open for two hours already.
Upon hearing this, Jiang Yan awoke instantly. She glanced to her side.
The spot beside her was empty.
The little girl had vanished. The blanket was laid perfectly flat, giving no sign it had ever been lifted for someone to get out of bed. It was as if she had simply disappeared from her dreams.
Jiang Yan got up, lifted the blanket—nothing beneath. Then she picked up her pillow. Under it was a gold candy wrapper, inside which was a half-eaten candy.
It was little Jiang Yan’s favorite candy these past two days; she’d always have one in her mouth, whether talking or walking. If she’d had time to prepare, she would likely have brought it with her into the Animation Zone. Yet this time, all the children had been whisked away suddenly—no anticipation, no time to get ready.
Thinking of how she’d woken the little girl in the middle of the night yesterday, Jiang Yan felt slightly relieved.
Information must always be shared in real time.
If she had waited to pass it on in the morning, little Jiang Yan would have entered the Animation Zone in the dead of night with no guidance and might have looked for the wrong clues, easily missing something crucial.
Shen Xiaoxiao was now awake too.
She stared at the empty bed and missing wheelchair, her expression growing increasingly panicked.
“Help, what on earth—what did I even know as a kid?!”
“How did I just get pulled in out of nowhere?!”
She rambled on, “It’s not like I’d get any smarter with more time, but to just disappear in the middle of the night, and my wheelchair can’t even go up the stairs, I walked so slow back then and was so stubborn, always going left when told to go right, ahhh, am I going to drag everyone down?”
“I was going to use the whole morning to give her advice, how did she just vanish—”
Jiang Yan: “It’s not a big deal.”
“Let’s get breakfast.”
Jiang Yan’s calm was so absolute that Shen Xiaoxiao, babbling with nerves, fell silent, her inner monologue echoing, Of course it’s Sister Jiang Yan; she makes you feel safe about anything. But just as quickly, she remembered Jiang Yan hadn’t watched any cartoons, her face fell again, clutching her heart in dramatic despair.
“Come on,” Jiang Yan packed up her things, “they’ll be back after we eat.”
“We answer the question in an hour.”
Shen Xiaoxiao said dejectedly, “But what do we answer…”
“We’ll find a way.”
Jiang Yan zipped up her bag and opened the door. Shen Xiaoxiao followed, pushing her suitcase. The others were waiting outside. Despite their low spirits, they managed to look composed, not placing undue pressure on one another.
Shen Huanhuan tried to boost morale: “Maybe there’ll be a crucial clue in the fifth event!”
“Each of us gets three chances to answer, so if everyone uses two attempts, we’ll have twelve shots at it. Not sure if the kids can answer with us, but if they can, that doubles the chances.”
“We’ll make it out.”
Zhao Kepu also cracked a few jokes, and the heavy mood lightened a bit.
Jiang Yan didn’t reveal her suspicions yet—she still wasn’t sure. Offering hope and then dashing it was no fun. Besides, she needed little Jiang Yan to test her theory in the fifth event. If it proved out, she could announce it then.
As soon as they left the hotel, everyone looked to the Animation Zone.
The first house now displayed a sign: “In Operation.” All the dolls were clustered around its entrance, whispering among themselves. When they spotted the group, they turned together, smiling brightly.
Their mouths moved constantly, the whispering growing louder and louder.
It was as if all conversation in the world centered on them. With all that noise, Zhao Kepu suddenly grew anxious, scratching at his skin. Mu Wang saw he was off, and gave him a push.
Zhao Kepu stumbled several meters away, and his scratching slowed.
“Let’s go to the Leisure Zone.”
Jiang Yan led everyone away, Mu Wang gently giving Zhao Kepu another push every few steps. The farther from the Animation Zone, the more relaxed Zhao Kepu became, until finally the itching stopped.
“Hey, you don’t need to keep pushing!” Zhao Kepu, coming to, turned to thank Mu Wang. “Thanks, man.”
Mu Wang stopped, a trace of regret in his eyes.
Shen Huanhuan asked what that was about, but Zhao Kepu couldn’t explain.
“It just reminded me of something from when I was a kid,” he said. “I had a terrible rash one year, couldn’t reach the middle of my back, asked Dad for help, he did at first, then said he was too busy with work, told me to find someone else. But there was no one else—just me, rubbing against the wall all day for relief.”
“That just popped into my head, and I felt crazy itchy all over.”
Everyone fell silent in thought, but decided to stay away from the Animation Zone until the kids returned. The group got some hot food in the Leisure Zone, then sat on the benches by the grass to wait.
Half an hour remained of the three-hour event. Jiang Yan checked her phone, then her surroundings.
The grass nearby was freshly watered, the earth damp, the air humid and calming.
But farther away—
Jiang Yan looked into the distance.
With the zones cleared, the game and haunted house areas were covered by white sheets. There were no other guests left in the park. Only the Animation Zone was alive, dolls patrolling back and forth. It showed that the clues for clearing the Animation Zone had nothing to do with tourists—everything depended on what happened inside the house.
Whether the children could get out would depend on them alone.
Everyone sat quietly on the bench. As the sunlight grew harsher and they squinted against the glare, a “beep” suddenly rang out over the park PA.
Half a minute later, the sound became a warning.
“Beep—beep—”
“All villagers, evacuate at once, find the nearest safe high ground, take shelter immediately! Heavy rain on the mountain—mudslide highly likely—mudslide highly likely—!!”
Three minutes later, the broadcast was filled with the thunderous sound of a landslide.
They exchanged glances, understanding instantly.
—The fifth event was being broadcast to the whole park. The village where the children lived was being hit by a mudslide.
Shen Huanhuan stood up instinctively, her fingers trembling with nerves. She turned to speak, but before she could, little Huanhuan’s soft voice piped up from the speaker:
“What should we do? It’s raining so hard—why isn’t anyone taking care of us?”
Next came little Yu Renwan, her voice breaking into tears: “Yan Yan, where are you? Where did you go?”
Then pink Taotao: “Over here, come quickly—something’s up with the village chief after all.”
Shen Huanhuan sat back down. Everyone listened carefully to the dialogue piping over the speakers.
“I don’t really get it,” pink Taotao said, “but this report says this mountain should never have been developed at all. The soil is loose and thin, it’s bad for planting trees, can’t hold much vegetation. If they mined it deep, any heavy rain would easily cause a mudslide.”
Little Jiang Yan’s voice joined in: “The chief skimped on the school too. He took all that money from the sponsor and built a crummy little school.”
Then little Xiaoxiao chimed in: “The school collapsed. Most of the students were killed by falling debris. The village chief got them all killed.”
“And Ding Fuya—she was the chief’s daughter. She was killed by her own father.”
Little Jiang Yan: “That’s right.”
“So Ding Fuya is the main character of the fifth event. The day we played jump rope, she said she felt ashamed to be the chief’s daughter. She must’ve seen this report but hadn’t figured out yet how to tell us.”
“And then the next day the school collapsed. She died.”
“Don’t you think that’s odd?” Little Jiang Yan asked the others.
“A school collapses, and before investigators can even arrive, a mudslide buries the whole place. Nobody can ever trace what happened.”
Black Taotao raised his slip of paper: “I— I got this one…”
“It says, last night the chief called someone, and the person on the other end said there’d be heavy rain today. They’d have workers dig out all the old trees on the mountain overnight, then steepen the slopes to make a mudslide even more likely.”
Little Jiang Yan sounded almost pleased: “So it was all planned. The school collapsed from shoddy construction, the chief’s superior helped him cover it up, maybe even lined up someone to take the fall. My mom says that’s how officials protect their own: a chain of interests that will do anything to guard itself.”
“Then…” little Huanhuan asked, “which cartoon is this?”
Little Jiang Yan fell silent.
A moment later, she said loftily, “It was me and Taotao who called you to the chief’s house. I’ve done plenty—now it’s your turn.”
Outside, the rain grew fiercer. With the three-hour time limit about to run out, things were getting dangerous for the kids.
They squatted in a circle, shuffling through clue slips like a clump of wild mushrooms in the mountains.
“Maybe it’s Nezha Conquers the Dragon King?” little Yu Renwan suggested.
“All this mudslide stuff is kind of like Nezha stirring up the sea.”
Little Xiaoxiao: “Well, I think it’s The Monkey King’s Havoc in Heaven.”
“This mudslide could be like Sun Wukong churning things up with his staff.”
Little Jiang Yan: “……”
“…I think we should focus on the chief and his superiors.”
“If not for them, the school wouldn’t have collapsed, Ding Fuya wouldn’t have died, and the fifth event wouldn’t exist.”
With that, she pushed all the files toward the others. Fixing a glare on the silent chubby boy, she snapped: “You say something too!”
Little Zhao Kepu puffed, “It’s hard to breathe in here. I can’t get any air.”
Little Jiang Yan gave up on him.
She stared at the others in silence. Little Huanhuan, under her gaze, looked down in shame.
After all, they were seven- or eight-year-old kids; even though little Jiang Yan and pink Taotao, as yao, were hundreds of years in age, their original bodies were as old as the others, so their thinking was sharper, but the rest were still just children.
With no one responding, little Jiang Yan again pushed the files in front of them.
In the files, the chief and his superior engaged in blatant exchanges of interest. The chief would send his requests, the official would approve them within his means, and the chief would give the official a 30-70 split of whatever illegal profits he made.
Stack after stack of files, each with a checkmark.
Every checkmark meant the chief’s interests had been secured. As long as he wrote, as long as he sent it up, his wishes came true. In such a poor and backward village, he had gained wealth few could ever imagine.
“What you write becomes real.”
Thunder echoed as little Jiang Yan, sitting in the dim room, lifted her gaze and said seriously, “Say the name.”
The room grew silent.
After a long pause, little Huanhuan finally looked up.
She murmured, “Magic Brush Ma Liang?”
“Is it Magic Brush Ma Liang?”
The moment the words fell, the thunder and rain abruptly ceased.
In the next instant, all the children plunged downward at terrifying speed. Little Jiang Yan instinctively grabbed at the air, but there was nothing to hold onto.
She didn’t know how long she fell. Only after it felt like her face would freeze from the wind did she finally land in a soft embrace.
After a moment, she cautiously lifted her right eye.
“Well done,” said Jiang Yan.
On little Jiang Yan’s round face, a trace of hurt flickered—but it was quickly replaced by an icy calm. “So you do realize!”
“But you were right.”
Little Jiang Yan added, “A few days before Ding Fuya died, her body began to go numb.”