Walking through the lush pathways of Jili Park last weekend, I couldn’t help but reflect on how certain places—like certain stories—reveal themselves differently depending on when and how you experience them. It reminded me of playing Death Stranding back in 2019, a game that felt almost prophetic when the world entered lockdown just months later. The game’s themes of isolation, fragile connections, and people hiding away in bunkers mirrored the strange reality so many of us lived through. Jili Park, in its own subtle way, offers something similar—a space where solitude and community coexist, where hidden corners invite introspection while bustling areas burst with life. If you’re planning a visit, let me guide you through some of its most compelling attractions—the ones that, in my opinion, truly capture the spirit of the place.
Let’s start with the Bamboo Whisper Grove, tucked away in the park’s northwestern section. It’s easy to miss if you’re sticking to the main trails, but once you step inside, the outside noise just fades. I spent nearly an hour there, just listening to the rustle of leaves and watching sunlight filter through the dense canopy. It’s the kind of spot that makes you slow down—something I’ve come to appreciate more since the pandemic. Death Stranding 2, from what I’ve seen, seems to echo this need to pause and reflect, though its themes are broader, touching on climate change, automation, and the weight of history. In a way, the Bamboo Grove is Jili’s quiet commentary on the same idea: sometimes, you have to step off the beaten path to really see what matters.
Then there’s the Lotus Reflection Pond, especially stunning in the early morning. I arrived around 6:30 AM last Tuesday, and apart from a couple of photographers and an elderly local practicing tai chi, the place was all mine. The way the lotus pads float, barely disturbing the water’s surface, creates this almost meditative atmosphere. It’s a sharp contrast to the park’s more animated zones, like the Family Meadow, where kids chase kites and friends gather for picnics. That duality—serenity versus chaos—reminds me of Sloclap’s upcoming game, Rematch. I’ve always loved how their earlier titles, like Sifu, focused on tight, deliberate melee combat, but Rematch? It’s a delightful surprise. It’s arcadey, unpredictable, and wonderfully messy—just like a real kickabout with friends. Jili’s Family Meadow has that same spontaneous energy. I’ve seen strangers become teammates in impromptu football matches, using bags and jumpers as goalposts, laughing as passes go wildly off-target. It’s pure, unfiltered joy.
One of my personal favorites is the Sunset Pavilion, perched on a gentle hill overlooking the park’s western expanse. I try to make it there at least once a month, usually with a book or a sketchpad. The view as the sun dips below the horizon is breathtaking—streaks of orange and purple painting the sky. It’s also where I’ve had some of my most meaningful conversations with friends, discussing everything from life goals to the latest video game releases. That sense of connection, of helping and understanding one another, is something Death Stranding 2 seems to emphasize. The game’s rumored focus on collaboration over conflict resonates deeply with me. In Jili Park, you see it in small gestures—a stranger offering directions, a family sharing snacks with solo travelers. These moments might seem minor, but they’re what transform a beautiful space into a meaningful one.
Now, if you’re into history, don’t skip the Heritage Stone Path near the park’s eastern entrance. It’s a winding trail lined with engraved stones, each marking a significant event from the park’s 80-year history. Walking it feels like tracing the footsteps of generations—something that, again, ties back to the idea of not being bound by the past. Death Stranding 2 appears to critique our fixation on history, suggesting it can trap us in cycles. Jili Park, in contrast, celebrates its history without being confined by it. The stones aren’t just relics; they’re part of a living, evolving landscape. On my last visit, I noticed a group of students using the path as an outdoor classroom, discussing ecological conservation. It was a perfect blend of old and new.
Of course, no visit to Jili Park is complete without experiencing the Night Garden, a relatively recent addition that’s become wildly popular. I’ll be honest—I was skeptical at first. The idea of illuminated flora and sound installations felt a bit gimmicky. But wow, was I wrong. The way soft lights highlight specific plants and sculptures creates an otherworldly ambiance, especially between 7 and 9 PM. It’s immersive in a way that reminds me of how games like Death Stranding build their worlds—layer by layer, detail by detail. The Night Garden attracted over 50,000 visitors in its first three months alone, and it’s easy to see why. It’s a testament to how parks can evolve, blending nature with innovation to create something truly memorable.
What strikes me most about Jili Park, though, is its ability to cater to different moods and moments. Some days, I come here for solitude, to think or read. Other times, it’s for connection—meeting friends, joining a game, or simply people-watching. It’s a lot like how I approach games: sometimes I want the thoughtful, almost philosophical experience of a Death Stranding, and other times, I crave the lighthearted chaos of Rematch. Jili offers both, often within the same visit. So whether you’re a first-time visitor or a regular like me, take the time to explore beyond the obvious. Skip the crowded main square occasionally. Wander into that quiet grove, strike up a conversation with a fellow traveler, or just sit by the pond and let the world pass by. These hidden gems aren’t just attractions; they’re invitations to see the park—and perhaps yourself—a little differently.
