When the little paper servants folded ingots, the scattered spiritual energy in the air immediately gathered around them.
The quality of the ingots they made wasn't as good as Song Miaozhu's, and their ability to attract spiritual energy was weaker. Fortunately, these energy particles had dispersed from a spirit stone and were still within the same enclosed space, allowing the servants to absorb a small amount.
After absorbing the energy, the spiritual glow around the paper servants grew slightly brighter. The spiritual power Song Miaozhu had infused into them, which had been partially depleted, was now fully replenished.
But once restored, they couldn't absorb any more energy.
Clearly, they had no innate ability to store spiritual energy—what they absorbed could only be used for recovery and couldn't be transferred back to her.
Compared to directly infusing them with her own spiritual power, this method was far less efficient.
"Better than nothing, I guess."
Meanwhile, as the paper servants folded, the spiritual energy stored in her Spiritual Platform space was also being consumed. It wasn't as effective as she'd hoped, but it still boosted her cultivation speed.
Originally, she thought maintaining twenty paper servants would be enough—after all, regularly replenishing their spiritual power was an additional cost. But now that she'd discovered they could assist in crafting and accelerate her energy absorption, Song Miaozhu gritted her teeth and cut out ten more, training them specifically for papercraft and cultivation support.
The ghost shop now earned at least 300,000 hell coins per day—equivalent to 30 mid-grade spirit stones or 3,000 low-grade ones.
Whereas three low-grade stones used to be enough for her daily use, she now had thirty more little paper servants. Based on the energy each one needed, she'd have to spend an extra three stones per day.
The paper workshop was built spaciously—thirteen paper servants plus her working together fit just right. Any more and it would start to feel cramped. Working on paper offerings with the servants, Song Miaozhu felt her cultivation speed nearly double!
Even though it meant she'd need more spirit stones, she was genuinely thrilled.
She had no shortage of underworld coins now, and it was easy to trade them for spirit stones. The faster she could digest spiritual energy, the better her spiritual power would grow. Undigested spirit stones were just that—stones. But cultivated and absorbed, they had real value.
With the little servants for company, she found the process of making paper offerings more enjoyable than ever.
Watching the crimson spiritual crystals in her spiritual platform form and expand faster than before gave her a deep sense of accomplishment. She grew more and more absorbed, reluctant to stop even as dawn broke.
Only when the two lookout servants on the wall alerted her to an approaching car did she finally pause.
Peering through the servants' vision, she recognized Zhao Huoyan's vehicle and immediately urged the others:
"Quick, hide! Don't let anyone see you!"
Right now, people knew very little about spiritual energy. These animated paper servants—a lost technique from the previous cultivation era brought to new life—weren't ready to be revealed just yet.
By the time the doorbell rang, all the servants had vanished.
Song Miaozhu didn't even have time to tidy the workshop before answering.
"Well, a messy workspace is believable. And they're probably just here to sort through ancient texts—they'll stay in the study."
Zhao Huoyan, Old Man Zhao, and Zhao Mumu had indeed come to organize the books. Upon entering, Zhao Mumu noticed the towering locust tree in the courtyard.
"There's one in front of the Anshou paper shop too. Looks about the same age—were they planted at the same time?"
"They were both planted by my ancestors," Song Miaozhu replied.
The Secret Art of Paper Crafting mentioned that her ancestors planted locust trees wherever they settled, believing they gathered yin energy to aid their craft. But that was an old superstition—back then, locust trees attracted slightly more yin-aligned spiritual energy. Nowadays, they were just ordinary trees with no ties to ghosts or the underworld.
Leading them to the study, she gestured to a shelf.
Song Miaozhu led them to the study, gesturing toward the bookshelf:
"All the ancient underworld books I've collected are over there. Feel free to look through them, but be careful not to draw in spiritual energy—it might damage the texts. Also, don't open the curtains. Sunlight is harmful to these old books from the underworld."
Zhao Huoyan looked at the empty shelves and asked Zhao Mumu, confused, "Can you see anything?"
Zhao Mumu shook her head. "All I see are some weird shadows."
Only Old Master Zhao could actually see the thread-bound ghost books. He stepped forward and picked one off the shelf.
"'Essential Knowledge for Qi Refining'?"
Zhao Huoyan immediately prompted Zhao Mumu to open the laptop and start transcribing.
"Master, read slowly!" Zhao Mumu said as her fingers flew across the keyboard.
Beside them, a voice recorder captured the reading in real time. They'd barely finished a few pages before Old Master Zhao's throat was already dry and scratchy—he'd downed several glasses of water.
Song Miaozhu understood that the Lingcheng' SEIU was short on talent. Aside from the old man, no one else could even see these ghost books.
But still—wasn't it too much to rely solely on him?
How long would it take for one person to read out all these books, page by page?
"Can't you bring in a few more people from other cities—anyone who's awakened their heavenly eye?" Song Miaozhu asked.
Zhao Huoyan shook his head. "We've filed the request, but the SEIU are still being formed across the country. Many cities are worse off than ours. Only the capital's SEIU has seasoned Heavenly Eye masters, but they're all overwhelmed with work. Since we've got Old Master Zhao, they can't spare anyone else.
Luckily, his body's already been reinforced by spiritual energy, so he should be able to handle it. And it's not like we're under a time crunch. He can read slowly. Once he completes this task, he'll earn a large amount of contribution points."
Song Miaozhu: "…"
Their time wasn't tight, but hers was.
With guests around, she couldn't let her paper servants assist in crafting—her cultivation speed would plummet!
This wouldn't do.
But if she let them take the books home to copy, who knew how long that would take?
These were unique ghost books—difficult to preserve. If something happened, she wouldn't be able to reference the lost knowledge of the previous cultivation era again.
Just as she agonized, a dark, cloth-covered "view" from a doll hiding under the rug sparked an idea.
"What if I hire ghosts to copy them for you? But you'll need to pay."
Assigning a few servants to this task was far better than sacrificing her daytime cultivation.