Our Story
Spreading culture through stories.
We merge culture with collectibles, reimagining heritage through emotionally resonant toys. Each piece in our collection tells a distinct story—rooted in identity, myth, or tradition—that invites curiosity and connection. Together, these individual characters form a narrative that celebrates and preserves the richness of culture through play.
The Humble Administrator's Garden
The Humble Administrator’s Garden (拙政å›) in Suzhou is one of China’s most iconic classical gardens, embodying the refined aesthetics of the Ming Dynasty. With its winding paths, lotus ponds, and scholar pavilions, it represents harmony between man and nature—an expression of Chinese philosophy, poetry, and cultural introspection.
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FATELAB draws inspiration from this rich heritage, transforming elements like Taihu rocks and moon gates into playful, collectible characters. Each Garden Guardian reimagines a piece of the garden’s spirit—where meaning is found in stillness, and beauty lies in the seemingly useless.
The Humble Garden Story
Long ago, in 1509, a weary official named Wang Xianchen turned away from courtly ambition and returned home to Suzhou. There, amidst the ruins of an old temple overrun by wild grass and silence, he felt his heart quiet. Away from noise and scheming, he began to build—not a palace of grandeur, but a garden of stillness. Stone by stone, window by window, pine by pine. He called it the Humble Administrator’s Garden, a place not shaped by cleverness, but by gentle retreat.
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And one morning, as he sat beside a weathered Taihu rock, a sigh escaped his chest—long and low, full of years and yearning. It stirred something deeper than wind. From that breath, from stone and stream and shadow, six spirits emerged. Not gods, not creatures, but quiet guardians of emotion and place.
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There was Peacy, the first to stir. Born of the sigh itself, she took no form, but her presence could be felt in the air that softened around you, in the way still water reflects the sky. She calms not by silencing, but by balancing—each thing in its place, each step a little slower. With Peacy nearby, the garden became a sanctuary.
From the rocks came Rocky, shaped from ancient stone and the strength of things that never move. He sat solid beneath moss and mist, holding the ground with quiet pride. You never heard him speak, but if your thoughts were scattered, his silence gathered them.
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Dancing in the shifting light of moon gates and latticed shadows was Framy. With each passing sunbeam or breeze through stained glass, she flickered at the edge of your vision—never fully seen, but always felt. She invites you to pause, to watch the world ripple, and maybe, to see yourself reflected back.
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Among the tiny trees and moss-covered roots scurried Bonsy, the tender of bonsai and caretaker of miniature mountains. With twig in hand and careful eye, she trimmed and tended with endless patience. From her, you learn that the smallest things hold entire landscapes.
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Winding through the lily-dotted ponds and under the arch of stone bridges was Rivery, her laughter soft as ripples. She swam beneath the reflections, catching tears and secrets alike. She never judged—only shimmered in tune with whatever the heart carried.
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High above, curled on warm roof tiles, was Tilney. She loved the sound of rain on old clay, the hum of wind through crooked beams. She said nothing. She never needed to. With her there, the roof never leaked and the heart never hurried.
And so the garden lived—not just with trees and stones, but with stories. With souls. Wang never named them, never tried to see them. But he knew. He knew that the garden was more than something built. It was something alive. Something watching. Something waiting.
Even now, if you walk slowly…
If you let the wind guide you…
You may hear a hush settle beside you, and feel them there.
Not to dazzle. Not to disturb.
Just to guard a piece of peace in you.