"Same price no matter where you go! Crafting paper for the underworld isn't easy—we've got to head outside the city every day just to gather materials. It's nothing like the living realm! But if you're buying a hundred joss bills or more, I'll throw in half a bill for free," the shopkeeper offered with a grin.
"Sorry to trouble you." Song Miaozhu turned and left.
Even if she had money now, she wasn't about to waste it.
Wasn't it better to keep her hard-earned cash? Why spend it on something so overpriced?
Besides, the paper offerings she made using mortal-world paper were no different from those described in the Secret Art of Paper Crafting , which supposedly required underworld paper.
In fact, because she could infuse them with spiritual energy, sometimes the quality was even better. She could always buy underworld paper later—after she died and could no longer get mortal-world paper. Since she had plenty of time today and was in good spirits, she decided to explore other paper offering shops along the street, curious to see their craftsmanship.
Yinshui Alley was vast—40% of the stores sold spirit paper goods, another 40% specialized in incense and candles, and the remaining 20% dealt in raw materials for both.
Each spirit paper shop had its own specialty. Though they all sold paper offerings, their wares varied greatly—some focused on paper money molds, some on golden lotus flowers, others on ceremonial paper clothing, or even paper houses.
Even among stores selling similar products, the designs differed. Song Miaozhu saw at least a handful of different styles for golden ingots alone. Yet despite the differences in appearance, their spiritual grade and effect were more or less the same.
She bought one ingot from each shop and took them apart to examine them, only to find that her family's version used the least amount of paper—it looked more efficient, more economical. Perhaps it was a trait inherited from the previous cultivation era, when the world faced a shortage of qi and crafting materials. Her ancestors had learned restraint out of necessity.
But despite the variety she saw, Song Miaozhu didn't find a single shop selling paper servants, or animated paper horses and carts—let alone anything like the hyper-realistic spirit figures crafted by the Fragrant Cloud Pavilion.
She chalked it up to having visited only less-skilled shops so far. Then she entered a large paper clothing store called Fuyi Fang.
The clothes here were vibrant and exquisitely designed, featuring styles from various dynasties. Not only did they sell ordinary paper clothes, but they also carried higher-grade offerings with durability-enhancing properties. Yet, even the highest-grade items still couldn't replicate the true texture of mortal-world fabric.
In fact, they looked less realistic than the non-enchanted cloth garments sold in the fabric shop next door, despite being of superior quality. Was this really the best such a large, long-established shop could do?
Legend had it that many of the ghostly vendors here had been around since ancient times, when funerary customs thrived and paper craftsmen had better working conditions. Shouldn't there be more skilled artisans?
Was this truly the limit of their craftsmanship?
Disappointed, Song Miaozhu couldn't help but question an older-looking ghostly attendant.
"Paper clothes with fabric texture?" The shop assistant gave her a strange look.
"If you want fabric-like clothes, the fabric shop next door has those. If you want paper clothes with a slight fabric-like feel, our third-grade offerings can achieve that. But if you want paper clothes indistinguishable from real fabric… you'd have to track down secondhand clothes from ghosts who died before the Han Dynasty.
Rumor has it there was once a shop in Yinshui Alley that mastered a special spirit-infusion technique, capable of making paper offerings like what you're describing. But that shop declined long ago. Now, the best you'll find is our third-grade paper clothes. So, want to buy one?"
Song Miaozhu shook her head and left Fuyi Fang, deep in thought.
Spirit infusion? Why did that sound so familiar?
As she drifted along with the ghostly crowd, she suddenly remembered where she'd seen it—in Secret Art of Paper Crafting!
Originally, when the text was still just a paper-offering technique, it had stated:
"Spirit infusion is the most crucial step in paper offerings."
But as spiritual energy dwindled over time, the focus of paper-offering arts shifted from technique to craftsmanship. What had once been a mystical tradition became a manual compiling various paper-offering methods—hence the title The Secret Art of Paper Crafting.
The step of spirit infusion was gradually integrated into the crafting process itself, and the term itself faded from common mention. So much so that Song Miaozhu had nearly forgotten its original name.
"Spirit infusion" referred to the process of channeling spiritual energy, spiritual power, or ghostly energy into a paper offering. This step bestowed spirit upon the creation, making it truly lifelike.
In The Secret Art of Paper Crafting, aside from a few low-grade underworld offerings that didn't require this technique, most involved it in some way. The more lifelike and higher-grade the offering, the more essential it became.
Song Miaozhu had used it when cutting her paper dolls—without it, they wouldn't move at all. She just never imagined that spirit infusion was her family's unique technique—and that no other paper-offering shop in the entire underworld knew how to do it!
No wonder all the paper offerings made by mortal-world craftsmen were nothing more than decorations in the afterlife!
This also explained why none of Yinshui Alley's shops—despite their long histories—could produce truly lifelike paper offerings, let alone functional paper servants or horses and carriages.
Paper servants and paper horses/carriages required an infusion of spiritual or ghostly energy during creation to truly "come alive."
"If I master The Secret Art of Paper Crafting, does that mean even if I fail to achieve immortality through cultivation, I could still thrive in the underworld with these techniques?" she wondered, eyes gleaming.
She was beginning to understand just how deep her family's legacy ran. This was a monopoly. A secret technique no one else possessed. Far more enduring than selling smuggled earthly goods. No wonder her ancestors had been reluctant to reincarnate. Who'd want to leave behind such a thriving business?
In any case, she had definitely benefited from her ancestors' brilliance. She'd been lucky to be born just before the new era of cultivation—giving her an edge even they hadn't had. Unfortunately, she had no idea where their souls were now, after countless reincarnations.
There was no way to repay them.
The only thing she could do was carry this legacy forward—to let the Secrets of Spirit Paper Crafting rise again.
If she could take advantage of this spiritual reawakening and expand the manual with new techniques of her own, that would be even better. But for now, her own skill barely scratched the surface—barely one ten-thousandth of what was recorded in the book.
Her earlier leisure mood faded instantly.
"Better finish my errands and go home to practice more."
Clearing her mind, Song Miaozhu floated straight toward the TIandi Bank up ahead.