For the Paper Servant Curse Technique to work, three things were needed: the paper servant as a vessel, spiritual energy to animate it, and an object connected to the target of the curse.
The deeper the connection, the stronger the curse.
At the moment, the only potential targets Song Miaozhu could think of were the Japanese ghosts lurking in the back mountains of the Golden Rose Villa.
However, all she knew was their location. While a target's location could serve as a medium for a curse, the connection was too weak. Since she was still learning, the effect would likely be minimal. The best option would be to obtain some of the ghosts' bodily remnants.
But the mountain was thick with yin energy, and unlike Fengdu City—where ghost officials maintained order—these Japanese spirits had no registered presence in the underworld. It was practically lawless territory. Song Miaozhu had no intention of risking her life there. Fortunately, she had forty paper servants. One of the key uses of the Paper Servants technique was reconnaissance.
However, the little paper figures were fragile. To ensure their safety, Song Miaozhu decided to equip them with paper clothes and armour before sending them to scout the back mountains of the villa and retrieve curse mediums for her practice.
She fetched a stack of bamboo paper from the storeroom and cut out tiny paper robes tailored to the servants' size. Then, using a specific spiritual technique, she infused them with energy. The paper robes instantly gleamed with a faint spiritual light.
The paper servants, who had been busy folding spirit money, all turned to look.
Song Miaozhu crooked a finger, and the nearest paper servant scurried over. She pressed the Paper Spirit Armor onto its chest, where it adhered seamlessly.
"How does it feel?" she asked.
The paper servant swung its little fists, puffing up proudly. To demonstrate its newfound strength, it leaped straight into Song Miaozhu's teacup on the table. A moment later, it climbed back out, completely unharmed—only the glow of its paper armor had dimmed slightly. With the Paper Spirit Armor, the paper servants could even withstand water. The defensive boost was impressive.
The other paper servants: (ω)
They abandoned their spirit-money folding and swarmed around Song Miaozhu.
"Don't worry, everyone gets one!" she assured them.
She took out the mid-grade spirit stone, drew a wisp of spiritual energy into her spiritual platform space between her brows, and replenished her reserves. That single shield had drained over half of her energy.
After recovering, she began crafting the next one.
This cycle—crafting, replenishing, crafting again—repeated fifty times.
By the next morning, she had produced fifty Paper Spirit Armor. She even cut ten additional paper servants, bringing the total to fifty, each now armored for the mission. Just as she prepared to make more spare sets, her phone rang.
A paper servant dutifully carried it over. She glanced at the screen, puzzled.
"Boss Wu? Why's he calling now?"
She swiped to answer. "Hello?"
"Boss Song—no, no, Master Song! Thank you so much!
Yesterday, I burned some of the gold spirit money I bought from you for my late mother, and she visited me in a dream that very night!
She told me to buy more and burn them for her—apparently, she used up all the money I sent just to deliver that dream! She insisted I only use your paper money from now on!
Could you… spare some more for me?
I've neglected my mother for too many years…"
Boss Wu's tone had completely changed.
Had this call come a few days earlier, Song Miaozhu might not have agreed. The substandard paper money was mostly reserved for E Hongjuan, who had placed a large order pending her compensation payout. The remaining stock was already limited. But now, with the paper servants helping, she had accumulated a sizable reserve again.
"Sure. When do you need it?" she asked.
"Now!" Boss Wu said urgently. "I want to burn it today so my mother can live comfortably in the afterlife as soon as possible!"
"Then come pick it up. My place is the one with the old locust tree on Xiaozhu Mountain," she replied.
From the images relayed by her paper servants, Anshou Hall Paper Shop was still bustling with activity.
"Yes, yes! I'm in my hometown—I'll be there in half an hour!"
True to his word, Boss Wu arrived in less than thirty minutes.
The moment he saw her, he grabbed her hands, tears streaming.
"Master Song! I can't thank you enough. You don't understand—my mother passed early, and my greatest regret is that she never got to enjoy the life I built.
If not for you, I wouldn't have known I'd been burning worthless paper for her all these years! She couldn't even afford to send me a dream!"
Song Miaozhu: "…"
So his mother's lack of communication was what finally convinced him. Until now, he'd still been skeptical.
"This is all I've made over the past couple of days. If you want it, it's yours," she said, gesturing to the several large baskets of gold paper money in the courtyard.
Boss Wu couldn't stop thanking her.
From the moment he woke up this morning, he had decided to treat Song Miaozhu with reverence. Among all his wholesale clients, her shop ordered the largest quantity—but other stores combined still made up a significant portion of his business. Yet, she was the only one who could help him provide for his mother in the afterlife.
Before, he had cooperated out of fear, regretting his greed but not daring to offend her. Now? He was desperate to strengthen ties, ensuring a steady supply of paper money for his mother.
"Master Song, about the warehouse issue you mentioned earlier… I think we can manage night deliveries now!
I'm not scared of ghosts anymore. They're just the dead—some people would give anything to see their loved ones again!"
Song Miaozhu shook her head. "We still need a warehouse. The alleys near Huaihua Alley are too narrow for unloading. If we do it too often, people will notice."
"Ah, true." Boss Wu rubbed his chin. "The more remote the warehouse, the better—cheaper rent and less attention… Let me think…
Oh! At the end of the cement road by Xiaozhu Mountain's foothills, there's an abandoned pig farm. It's spacious and barely sees any visitors. It shut down just two years after being built, so the buildings are still new and sturdy. The owner isn't renting—only selling. For just 300,000, you could own the entire property. Clean it up, and it'd be perfect for storage!"
"Really?" Song Miaozhu had been worrying about this. The reason she hadn't found a suitable warehouse was her insistence on buying rather than renting.
Seeing her interest, Boss Wu eagerly pulled out his phone. "I've got the owner's WeChat. Let me show you the photos!"
The pictures revealed a pig farm nestled near the Yunwu Mountain Nature Reserve, truly isolated.
The compound was large, surrounded by walls.
The buildings were concrete with blue steel roofs, already cleaned out.
With minor adjustments, it would make an ideal warehouse.