Even though her cultivation had already put her ahead of most, Song Miaozhu didn't dare claim she could handle the thousands of Japanese ghosts lurking behind the mountain villa.
For one, her spiritual energy was still insufficient. Secondly, her current techniques for wielding it were still rudimentary. So far, she had only mastered four basic applications:
—Circulating spiritual energy through her body to replace food and sleep.
—Infusing energy into paper offerings to enhance their quality or create spirit papercraft.
—Coating her skin with energy to resist yin energy intrusion.
—Injecting spiritual energy into an opponent's body—though whether this could actually harm them remained untested.
She planned to experiment with the last method once she got home.
Since she didn't want to reveal her ability to freely enter the underworld and communicate with ghosts, Song Miaozhu decided not to share last night's findings with Zhao Huoyan just yet.
After all, the entire Lingcheng's SEIU was moving to Yuanshan Ancient Town today. She'd wait a few days before bringing it up.
After breakfast, Zhao Huoyan drove them back to Yuanshan Ancient Town.
As soon as Song Miaozhu stepped into Huaihua Alley, she noticed something odd.
"Why is it so crowded all of a sudden?"
Two days ago, when she left, the alley had been quiet. Now, tourists swarmed the narrow lane—far more than when the escape room first opened.
Since the alley only had two shops, she wondered: "Did the horror escape room go viral?"
But as she walked, another realization struck her.
"Why are so many people staring at me?"
From the moment she entered the alley, everyone's eyes seemed to linger on her.
She had always been somewhat pretty—enough to draw occasional glances even without makeup. But ever since she started refining her body with spiritual energy, her skin had become even more radiant.
Yet today was different.
Several people glanced at her, then at their phones, as if comparing her to something.
Still, no one approached her.
Song Miaozhu had long since learned to ignore strangers—as long as they didn't bother her, she pretended they didn't exist.
So after a brief moment of confusion, she brushed it off and quickened her pace. She hadn't been home in a full day, and she was worried about her three kittens.
She'd left plenty of food and water, but Little Goldie, the bottomless pit of appetite, might've devoured everything in one go—leaving Little Snowball and Little Coal starving.
As she turned the corner, her paper shop came into view.
Song Miaozhu paused.
She looked in disbelief at the shop next door—the escape room. Sure enough, the outdoor rest area was packed with tourists.
She had assumed the store next door was doing so well that people had gotten bored while waiting and wandered to her doorstep to take pictures—blocking her entrance.
But then, several of the people taking photos turned their phones toward her.
"???"
She frowned and swept her eyes toward the ones pointing their phones at her. Those who had been about to hit the record button suddenly hesitated and instinctively lowered their devices.
Something definitely felt off.
"Are these people... here for me?"
Better to get inside first.
"Excuse me, coming through."
The crowd automatically parted, and she walked up to the door of her shop, unlocking it.
Just as she stepped inside, someone called out:
"Mystic Sister, can you tell fortunes? Like… love predictions?"
Song Miaozhu whipped around. "Mystic? Did you all come because of that online post?"
Who else would call her that?
The crowd nodded eagerly.
"The 'Papercraft Mystic of Yuanshan Ancient Town' has been trending locally for three days!"
"..."
She had assumed that vague post with blurry photos would fade into obscurity.
"I'm not a Mystic. I don't tell fortunes or predict love. This shop only sells paper offerings and snacks. Please leave."
With that, she stepped inside, shut the door, and pulled all the curtains shut in one swift motion. The shop dimmed, and six pairs of glowing green eyes hovered at her feet like light bulbs.
"Meow~"
The kittens looked healthy and energetic. She patted their round little bellies—they were all full.
At least her fur babies had taken care of themselves. That was a bit of a relief.
She checked the corner where the fifteen temporary food bowls were lined up. Six were empty. That matched the normal meal portion for the three kittens.
"Not bad!" she praised. "I was gone and you all actually managed to portion your meals?"
Little Goldie: ヽ(｀⌒) "Hmph!"
Little Snowball: (´･ω･`) "Innocent blink."
Little Coal: (oωo) "Cool and composed."
Song Miaozhu blinked.
"One was throwing a tantrum, one looked cute and wronged, and one was calm and chill... what was going on?"
Little Coal (the black-furred leader), flicked its tail at the other two, then trotted to the bowls.
Little Goldie (the gluttonous orange tabby) darted forward, only to be smacked aside by Little Coal's paw.
Little Snowball (the fluffy white one) gave a meek little "meow" and politely stepped up, eating just enough for one meal before Little Coal gave a soft growl.
Little Snowball backed off, pitifully.
Then Little Coal stepped up, ate its portion, and stepped away—only then did Little Goldie charge forward and polish off the rest of the bowl.
Watching the kittens put on a full performance of "meal portion discipline," Song Miaozhu realized how they'd managed it while she was away.
It was all thanks to Little Coal keeping the other two in line!
Delighted, she scooped up Little Coal and gave it a thorough cuddle. "Good job, little manager! You kept them in line! You're officially the house steward!"
If it weren't for the fact that the three kittens had no spiritual energy glow, she'd have believed they'd developed intelligence. They were too smart—especially Little Coal.
Now that the kittens were fine, Song Miaozhu could turn her attention to figuring out how she'd gotten famous.
The original post just had a few blurry photos. No way that was enough to make people track her down... right?
She checked online and immediately saw what had happened.
Under that trending tag, someone had uploaded a video of her working on paper crafts at the entrance of her shop.
The footage showed her folding golden lotus flowers at lightning speed, the shadows of the ancient locust tree draping over her like a mystical veil.
The ethereal atmosphere made her look like some reclusive master.
When paired with the earlier "mysterious night time papercraft" photos, the video cemented her reputation as Yuanshan's "Beautiful Mystic".
But the real reason it went viral?
The "weird behavior" angle was just clickbait. What really pulled people in was when she lifted the mischievous orange cat at her feet, glanced up—and the camera caught her face.
Her looks and calm demeanor sealed the deal. That's when the video really exploded.
It was only trending locally, so it wasn't too serious. How many people in Lingcheng actually chased local trends anyway?
If she just ignored it, things should calm down in a few days.
She quickly called Boss Wu to reschedule the delivery. It had originally been set for 2 PM, but with the post still topping the charts, now was not the time to attract more attention.
"Best to lay low for a bit."