After lunch, Song Miaozhu finally had time to return to her paper crafting.
While folding ingot offerings, she once again noticed the flickering specks of spiritual light she had seen yesterday. Just like before, any ingot touched by these particles became first or second-grade.
After folding three, she suddenly remembered the small paper figure she'd cut during her last experiment—the simplest form of spirit papercraft from the Secret Art of Paper Crafting, an ultra-simplified version of the legendary "Paper Soldiers" technique called "Paper Servants."
The key distinction between spirit paper and yin paper was the energy they used. Spirit paper drew upon spiritual energy (Qi), requiring spiritual power to animate, while yin paper relied on ghostly forces.
Among the spirit paper techniques, Paper Cut into Servants required the least amount of spiritual energy. In fact, it could even be powered by ghost energy, spirit, or ambient yin force—any of which could substitute for proper spiritual power.
Back then, she had neither spiritual energy nor spiritual power. Now, at least, she had seen traces of Qi—even if only as fleeting light dot. Each time only one dot appeared, small and faint, but there was no harm in trying. At worst, she'd just waste a bit of paper.
Since she had no spiritual power and couldn't use ghost power unless she died, her only options were spirits or yin energy. The latter seemed more feasible.
Song Miaozhu, never one to hesitate once an idea struck, went straight to the printer and grabbed a few sheets of plain white A4 paper. She rummaged behind the shop counter until she found a large pair of scissors in a cabinet.
Worried that the paper figure might actually come to life, she decided not to sit by the storefront window and cut. Instead, she stayed behind the counter where it was safer.
According to the manual:
"Using white spirit paper, cut a palm-sized figure. Infuse it with your spiritual energy to animate it as a servant."
These small figures were typically used for scouting and information gathering.
"Cutting eyes allows them to share what they see with their master."
Their shape didn't matter—only their size and consistency. Without spiritual power, alternatives included:
—Ghost Power: Servants could grow smarter over time but required repairs if damaged.
—Spirit (Soul): Instant high intelligence, but the spirit could be harmed if the paper body was destroyed.
—Yin Energy: The worst option—one-time use, no growth, minimal functionality.
She could only try with ordinary white paper and hope one of those little spirit light energy would fuse during the cutting process—enough to meet the criteria for spirit paper. And as for the animating energy, yin force was her only option.
No spiritual power. No ghost energy. And it was unrealistic to expect to find a willing spirit willing to shrink itself into a fragile paper body to serve her. But she could convert hell coins into ghost lifespan, which in turn could become pure yin energy that she could command.
As she began cutting her first paper figure, she kept a close eye out for the glowing spiritual energy. Disappointingly, none appeared. By the time she finished her third one, a spiritual light spot finally drifted lazily into view—only to vanish just before it could infuse the nearly completed figure.
Still, it was something. Hopeful, Song Miaozhu kept cutting.
On the fifth try, a particle merged into the paper. The figure stood up on the table, rigid as a tiny soldier.
Song Miaozhu's heart pounded. "It worked!"
She rushed to infuse yin energy—but before she could, the figure collapsed. She quickly infused it with yin energy—but nothing happened. The figure remained motionless, as if the few seconds it had stood up had all been a hallucination.
Another successful cut followed. This time, she immediately channeled yin energy. Immediately, she felt a faint connection form between them—like a small window had opened in her mind. The paper figure's eyes became her eyes, like a moving surveillance camera.
With a single thought, she knew what it saw. She could direct its movements with her mind. She commanded it to jump down from the counter and circle the floor. It turned once. Twice. She had just begun enjoying herself—when the paper figure abruptly collapsed again.
The entire interaction had lasted less than three minutes.
"The battery life is terrible!" she complained.
No wonder the manual dismissed yin-powered servants as "fit only for nighttime street performances." The ancestor who'd simplified this technique had been a traveling performer.
Still, even if the practical use was limited, Song Miaozhu continued cutting figures. Just watching them twitch to life—even briefly—was enough to confirm the wonder of spirit paper crafting. For her, it was a precious glimpse into a forgotten world. But soon, the energy particles stopped appearing.
She tallied the results: one more successful activation than yesterday.
There were still no online reports or discussions related to a spiritual energy resurgence. For now, Song Miaozhu could only experiment on her own—feeling her way forward one step at a time.
The only clear discovery so far: crafting paper figures somehow attracted Qi.
The problem was, the Qi went only into the paper—not into her.
Spiritual energy had to enter the body to form spiritual power. But how could she make it enter?
That mystery remained unsolved. All she could do was keep crafting, and search for clues within the process.
Around 4 PM, Boss Wu came by with a delivery.
He carried the goods upstairs to the loft, then paused—staring at the now-empty storage space in disbelief.
"Didn't expect your shop to be doing this well! Everything sold already?"
"I've got a few other channels," Song Miaozhu replied vaguely.
Thankfully, Boss Wu and his kind usually knew better than to pry into other people's business strategies. Still, he hadn't expected this strange, niche little store to become his biggest customer. Song Miaozhu earned more, which meant they did too. He was genuinely pleased.
What he didn't know, though, was that in the past few days, the shop had sold exactly two bottles of mineral water—both bought by renovation workers from the escape room next door. The rest of the "goods" had all been sold to the Underworld.
After unloading the delivery, Boss Wu handed her a sample booklet of paper types. She had mentioned wanting new supplies. Song Miaozhu selected several types that would work well for her paper crafting and placed an order, asking him to include them with the next delivery.
"Do you need them urgently? This batch is even bigger than last time. Should last you a while. If it's urgent, I can ask my son to run it over tomorrow."
"No rush. Just bring them with the next shipment."
In truth, she was running low. Her stock of gold paper for folding ingots was almost gone.
But at the current rate of "sales" to the Underworld, this batch would last maybe two or three days—so she could afford to wait.