As her e-bike reached the foot of Little Bamboo Mountain, the lights in her hillside courtyard flicked on.
By the time she arrived at the front gate, the electric roller shutter of the garage had already begun rising on its own.
It was the two little paper servants who'd stayed behind at home—they'd noticed her return and floated off to prepare.
Song Miaozhu parked inside, and before she could even dismount, the puppets tugged over the charging cable, plugging in the bike for her.
Stepping into the fully illuminated house, she paused.
"How many years has it been since I came home to lights on and an open door?"
After her parents passed, the house had stayed dark and empty whenever she was away. She hadn't even instructed the puppets to do this—just to keep watch. Yet they'd acted as if it were the most natural thing.
Like this is what "guarding the house" means.
Though silent, they understood her habits and preferences with an almost telepathic clarity.
The art of cutting paper into servants was a ritual spell that allowed one to command paper constructs. But in truth, what granted the dolls their sense of awareness wasn't the technique—it was her spiritual power.
In a way, these little paper people were an extension of herself.
And yet—
"It feels strangely warm. Like being cared for."
Song Miaozhu suddenly felt that five paper servants were far too few.
A home should feel livelier than this.
Still, she had already made five last time, and after imbuing them all with spiritual power, the crimson spiritual crystal in her spirit space had dimmed significantly. There wasn't much energy left. She pulled the curtains in her papercraft workshop closed and took out the final spirit stone she'd exchanged using the high-grade Treasure Basin last time.
She'd traded for eleven stones in total—ten of them were low-grade, but this last one was a mid-grade spirit stone. Drawing a wisp of spiritual energy from it, she immediately noticed the difference.
"At a glance, it resembles low-grade spirit energy—but the concentration is a hundredfold."
Just absorbing that one wisp gave her a faint sensation of fullness—something that used to take three whole low-grade stones to achieve. That single strand of spiritual energy was enough to completely replenish the crimson crystal tablet in her spiritual space, filling it with a deep, vibrant red once more.
The remaining energy floated quietly in her spirit space, while the mid-grade stone in her hand was still solid—still rich with power.
"No wonder it costs a hundred low-grade stones' worth of spirit coins. The efficiency is worth it."
Clearly, mid-grade stones were more efficient—higher concentration, faster absorption, quicker replenishment. With her spiritual reservoir topped off, Song Miaozhu was no longer worried about consumption. For every bit of power she used, there was now a steady stream to replace it.
She went ahead and crafted fifteen more paper servants. Together with the one always tucked in her clothing, that made sixteen in total. She dispatched ten of them straight to the Ghost Shop.
—Six sorted inventory in the warehouse.
—One assisted at the checkout counter.
—Three organized spirit coins in the vault, organizing received nether currency—transferring the lifespans from the unranked spirit bills into empty high-grade ingot molds.
Nowadays, she could easily craft third-rank gold ingots. Since gold paper from the mortal realm was cheap, she didn't care about a little wear and tear on the molds.
"Spirit coins—convertible to cash or spirit stones—were the real currency."
Her paper servants, like herself, had full access to the warehouse, the vault, and the Tiandi Bank's Treasure Bowl. With them in place, shop efficiency skyrocketed.
Tonight, Mao Jinxia was in charge of the store. When she saw the tiny paper servant pop up at the counter, she was startled—until it raised a scroll with Song Miaozhu's bold handwriting scrawled across it:
"Boss's helper. Don't panic."
"Oh, it's one of the boss's!" Mao Jinxia sighed in relief.
Although the Anshou Hall Paper Shop wasn't as swamped as during its grand opening, business was still steady and nonstop each day.
Ever since she and Xu Jingsi split the shifts, the workload for picking and cashiering had been rough. Customers were always lining up at the counter, and many ghostly patrons had already started complaining—urging them to hire more help.
She hadn't expected the boss to send paper people.
"What could these things do?"
Mao Jinxia was a veteran in the mortal world but still a fledgling ghost in the underworld—she'd never seen truly advanced paper craft. It was the customers at the counter who got excited first when they spotted the paper servant strutting around with hands on its hips.
"Is this one for sale?"
"Nope. Belongs to the boss," Mao Jinxia replied.
"Aww, shame. Looks fun."
The ghost sighed and placed their shopping list on the counter.
Mao Jinxia picked it up and began reading: "Item 021, ten packs… 021, 021…"
Before she could find the item on the directory, ten green bags materialized on the counter.
"Yes! That's the one!" the ghost customer said.
Mao Jinxia was stunned—she hadn't even located the item yet!
Looking toward the warehouse, she saw more paper servants inside, scurrying around—some were exactly at the 021 shelf. The servant on the counter tapped its little braids and stomped impatiently, urging her to continue.
Tentatively, Mao Jinxia called out, "Item 082, five packs?"
The counter servant twitched, and the warehouse servants instantly zipped over to the 082 shelf, delivering five packs of spicy sticks. By the time she finished reading the list, all the items were already on the counter.
All she had to do was handle the payment.
Even that was simpler now—the hell coins was sent directly to the money vault, and the paper servants sorted and filed it on their own. Her workload had been slashed in half, and sales speed had more than doubled. Soon, all the ghost customers had checked out and left, no more long lines in sight.
With the extra breathing room, Mao Jinxia had time to observe the paper servants in action:
"If only they could talk and weren't so tiny, they'd replace us!"
"A small mercy they can't," she thought. "Or Xu Jingsi and I would be jobless."
Back in the mortal realm, Song Miaozhu—viewing everything through the eyes of her paper servants—felt a pang of heartache.
Paper servants powered by spiritual energy depleted faster in the underworld than in the living world. Converted into hell coins, the monthly cost of these ten paper servants was more than hiring three ghost employees.
"Ghosts really were the cheapest labor, huh?"
If she didn't still want to nurture the paper servants' spiritual awareness through practice, she'd probably recall them already. It just wasn't cost-effective to have them running the ghost shop. Hiring a few ghost employees made much more sense.
Still… the paper servants were her eyes and hands. Their loyalty couldn't be matched by any staff member. And they required no management at all. She kept the remaining six paper servants in the mortal world.
Here, they were far more energy-efficient—and durable.