Song Miaozhu nodded. "Yes, partly to visit the graves, but also because I'm planning to come back and develop things here. The town is much livelier than it used to be."
"You're coming back too? That's wonderful!" Aunt Chen said joyfully. "The bus to the cemetery isn't easy to catch—how about joining us next Tuesday? It's just me and my daughter, and we'll drive our family van."
"Then I won't be polite," Song Miaozhu replied with a smile.
She'd been planning to go anyway. Uncle Chen's grave issue needed her on-site to bring up naturally. Otherwise, claiming she'd seen his ghost would just sound insane.
Relieved, Chen Damin gave her a grateful nod before leaving the restaurant.
Had his grave not been uninhabitable, he wouldn't have disturbed his family. His presence alone dampened their business. The moment he left, the room warmed noticeably.
Soon, her food arrived. Starved, Song Miaozhu shoveled bamboo shoots and cured pork into her mouth, then flashed Chen Shuanghe a thumbs-up.
"You've inherited Aunt Chen's cooking skills! If Aunt Chen hadn't been chatting with me outside the whole time, I would've thought she cooked this herself!"
"I told you—you wouldn't be disappointed!" Chen Shuanghe grinned.
She was about to sit down and catch up, but before she could even warm the seat, two more groups of customers came in. One of them were tourists who found the place through an app and ordered quite a few dishes.
"You go handle it! I'm planning to stay for a while now, so we'll have plenty of chances to talk later," Song Miaozhu said.
"You said it! I'll come find you when I'm free!" Chen Shuanghe reluctantly headed back to the kitchen.
Left alone, Song Miaozhu devoured her meal.
"Nothing beats hometown flavors."
Mid-bite, her phone buzzed. Chen Yuanyuan had messaged:
[Yuanyuan]: Made it home? Everything okay?
Song Miaozhu snapped a food pic.
[Miaozhu]: Yep, all good. [Photo]
[Yuanyuan]: Looks delicious!
[Miaozhu]: Cleaning my plate today!
[Miaozhu]: By the way, tourism here is doing great. I'm planning to start a business back home, so I probably won't be going back to school anytime soon.
[Yuanyuan]: [Shocked.jpg]
[Yuanyuan]: You sure?
[Miaozhu]: [Innocent.jpg]
[Miaozhu]: Also, got any recommendations for modern cultivation novels? It's too peaceful at home—I need something to read.
[Yuanyuan]: [Pic][Pic][Pic]… Here you go!
[Miaozhu]: [Photo] Done eating! Gotta go pick up some stuff. Talk later!
[Yuanyuan]: Got it. Don't worry about school. I'll keep you updated if anything comes up. Good luck with the business! Hope you get rich quick!
After closing her phone, Song Miaozhu scanned to pay and said goodbye to Aunt Chen before leaving the restaurant.
Not far from Aunt Chen's place, there was a small convenience store still open. She walked in and bought some daily necessities she hadn't brought with her this time, along with cleaning supplies.
Passing the snack aisle, she remembered there was no food at home, so she grabbed two packs of instant noodles.
"Oh right, I need to test whether products from the living world can sell in the underworld!"
She added some snacks, drinks, cigarettes, alcohol, and tea to her cart. Just a small amount of each—to test the market in the underworld and figure out what to stock later.
Struggling to carry the heavy load back home, she shook off the marks the plastic bags had left on her hands and got straight to cleaning. No matter what, the house needed to be tidied.
She originally planned to clean just the bedroom so she could get some sleep. After all, she'd been running around all day and had spent the previous night on the bus. She should have been exhausted.
But after finishing the bedroom, she felt completely refreshed—not the slightest bit sleepy—so she kept going. She cleaned the whole house, inside and out, even weeding the yard.
It wasn't until around 3 or 4 a.m. that she actually felt tired. After washing up, she fell into bed and slept like a rock.
When the sound of birds chirping outside the window woke her, Song Miaozhu stirred and gasped: "Oh no, I forgot to set an alarm!"
She had planned to study the The Secret Art of Paper Crafting today!
Her phone showed 9:00 AM.
"Nine? Impossible!"
Since when did she naturally wake at nine after a late night? Yet she felt refreshed, not sleep-deprived. Two explanations: either her soul had gone to the underworld yesterday, leaving her body rested, or becoming a ghost shop owner had altered her physiology.
Either way, it was convenient.
Song Miaozhu was eager to dive into the family's inherited The Secret Art of Paper Crafting and learn more about the capital of the underworld—Fengdu.
The instant noodles she'd bought the night before came in handy—breakfast was solved in a flash. Then she headed for her usual spot in the main hall: the lounge chair.
This time, though, she wasn't going to the underworld.
She just lay there comfortably and began flipping through the mental archive of the The Secret Art of Paper Crafting.
Although the book existed in her mind, she still had to flip through it to access the knowledge. Several hours later, she had skimmed through the entire volume. To her surprise—it was a book of spells!
Its origin dated back to the waning days of the last great surge of spiritual energy, over two thousand years ago during the Western Han dynasty.
Successive generations of inheritors had built upon the knowledge of their predecessors, recording their life's work and insights. Together, they created a secret art centered entirely around paper. From their words, she gleaned some idea of what cultivation looked like back then.
Practitioners in that era sought to understand and align with the natural laws of heaven and earth—hence the name Daoist cultivators.
At that time, the secret art of paper-making only used paper as a medium, and it was an unconventional way to summon spirits and ward off ghosts. The fighting skills are powerful and have some miraculous effects, but they are not accepted by the mainstream and are not the path to becoming an immortal.
As spiritual energy faded with time, most cultivation methods also declined.
The paper-folding secret technique was no exception—its powerful techniques became harder to execute.
The later portions of the book gradually described techniques that required less and less spiritual energy, eventually becoming nothing more than decorative crafts in the living world. The craftsmanship became simpler, and eventually, spiritual paper turned into mundane funerary paper.
However, in the underworld—where there was no Dharma Ending Era—the value of secret art never diminished. Many ancestors only found true success with the art after death.
This secret art belonged to the yin realm and could only be practiced by women. It was traditionally passed down from mother to daughter, never to men.
But once the Dao faded from the living world, society entered a long era where women had low status. Without a way to defend themselves, it was difficult for women to pursue this secret art—seen by ordinary people as eerie and ominous.