Only now did cultivators realize that above ordinary spiritual items, there were also "key spiritual items," and above regular masters, there were "elite masters." The SEIU held far more resources than anyone had imagined.
Even though cultivation was open to all, craftsmanship was never something that could be mastered overnight. The SEIU had always been a step ahead.
Now, just to protect a single elite master, they had gone to great lengths to identify every culprit and punish them accordingly.
Those who manipulated public opinion were immediately arrested, fined, and sentenced—no steps skipped.
Those who tried to take advantage amid the chaos were fined or temporarily detained, depending on the severity of their involvement.
Even those who merely jumped on the bandwagon were not spared. Some were fined, and the more serious offenders had their records marked. Anyone who was part of the SEIU and got caught was directly expelled, and their SEIU app accounts were permanently banned.
As for non-members, their eligibility for future recruitment was revoked. Under such pressure, no one dared to casually post reckless comments online anymore. Any negative chatter about Song Miaozhu and her Spirit-Gathering Dolls vanished overnight. In its place, discussions about elite masters and key spiritual items exploded across forums.
[Zhao Huoyan]:Master Song, all the fines have been transferred to your personal account. Please check your balance.
Song Miaozhu opened her banking app and saw a cool ten million deposited. The SEIU had really come through. She half-jokingly wished she had been cursed out a little longer.
Silently, she increased the production rate of her Spirit-Gathering Dolls. Since the SEIU was backing her so firmly, she felt compelled to return the favor.
And hey, it didn't hurt to earn more money in the process.
From two dolls a day, her output rose to five. The SEIU noticed almost immediately.
"I told you! Master Song doesn't trade contribution points for cash because she doesn't need them. She probably just prefers cold, hard currency. She must need the money more in the underworld! Let her make more money, and she's bound to be happy."
Now that they had figured out her preferences, the SEIU felt more at ease. After the SEIU publicly stepped in, the looming pressure Song Miaozhu had been feeling disappeared almost instantly.
The internet quieted down. Her courtyard returned to its usual peacefulness. Not even a shadow had been seen along the winding roads of Xiaozhu Mountain for days.
Despite continuing her cultivation and paper crafting, Song Miaozhu remained on high alert for any potential ambush. Because of this, she only practiced techniques she had already mastered, avoiding new ones for the time being.
But as days passed with no sign of trouble, she started to doubt Zhao Huoyan's theory.
Had that previous incident really been orchestrated by Feng Ru and Feng Jinwen?
They had vanished without a trace. Maybe it was because they had harmed too many people and were now hiding to avoid public outrage?
Or had the SEIU's swift crackdown intimidated them into staying away?
With a helpless sigh, Song Miaozhu muttered, "The SEIU handled things so well, it might not actually be a good thing."
She had hoped for a big showdown, a sweeping victory to make her name and earn her a reputation that would make her untouchable.
Now, it all felt a bit hollow—as if she had needed the SEIU to fight her battles for her.
One month passed. Xiaozhu Mountain remained utterly quiet.
Eventually, Song Miaozhu couldn't stand it anymore.
Whether trouble was coming or not, she couldn't let it interfere with her cultivation schedule.
She had studied the Secret Art of Paper Crafting with instructors from the underworld for so long, and Grandmaster Zhang Yunxi had even personally corrected her techniques. Her skills had reached the point where she could start practicing more advanced techniques.
To begin, she chose to craft a paper vehicle.
While her little paper servants already had spiritual paper horses—enhanced versions, at that—the vehicles still had their uses, especially for transport. Unlike the nimble paper horses, paper vehicles were bulkier but offered more storage space, making them valuable in the underworld as well.
She was curious to see what kind of abilities a spiritual paper car might develop after being nurtured with spiritual energy.
The version of paper cars described in the Secret Art of Paper Crafting were all modeled after ancient horse-drawn carriages. There were many designs, but only one method to infuse them with spiritual essence—and they required paper horses to pull them.
From her past experience, Song Miaozhu knew that no matter what a paper creation looked like, if the same spirit infusion method was used, the outcome would be the same. Form did not dictate result.
However, those traditional carriages were outdated.
Paper horses could be ridden. They were fast, nimble, and far more practical.
But carriages were just clunky containers. She figured it would be better to modernize and build a spiritual paper car instead.
The infusion method for paper vehicles worked on any typical "land vehicle." It didn't have to be a horse-drawn cart. Motorcycles, sedans, trucks, and trains should all qualify. Boats and airplanes, however, likely wouldn't work, because the method was limited to land-based transport.
Just as paper horse infusion only worked on ground-based mounts—whether horses, tigers, or qilins—water creatures required the Paper Fish Infusion Method, and flying mounts needed the Paper Bird Infusion Method.
The Secret Art of Paper Crafting did include a method for water vehicles called the Paper Boat Infusion Method. But aerial vehicles had not existed when the book was written, so no method for those had been developed yet.
Researching and creating such a technique would be one of her future goals.
For now, though, that was still a long way off.
At present, she just wanted to try making a spiritual paper sedan using the existing paper vehicle method. Like the paper horse, the paper car needed to be built to scale based on real-world proportions. Unlike spiritual paper clothes, they couldn't change size at will.
That was why most paper vehicles burned for the dead arrived in the underworld as useless toys—far too small to use. Song Miaozhu decided to use her own convertible as a reference model. Since the Secret Art of Paper Crafting didn't have any blueprints for paper sedans, she would have to create them herself.
She wheeled her car into the ghost warehouse and, with help from her ghost instructors, drafted the first blueprint.
For the crafting site, she chose the attic.
Only now did she understand why both her home and the Ansou Hall Paper Shop had such tall, wide attic spaces. They must have been specifically designed to accommodate large-scale paper crafting.
In the attic, there was no risk of unfinished work being ruined by the elements. Good thing she had only renovated her home without changing the layout much—in fact, she had even expanded it slightly.
Otherwise, she wouldn't have known where to make something as large as a paper sedan. Following standard procedure, she would first construct a bamboo frame, then cover it with paper skin.
This was the classic crafting method.
So, she headed into the bamboo grove to select the right stalks and began preparing the bamboo slats.