Song Miaozhu first summoned a spirit-tier paper soldier and had it possess her body. Only then did she head toward the mountain behind her house with a machete in hand. While possessed by a spirit-tier paper soldier, her strength was immense. Cutting down bamboo felt as easy as slicing through a tender shoot.
She chopped the bamboo and bundled it together. With ease, she hoisted it over her shoulder and carried it back. If it had been her alone, she could only carry one stalk at a time. Even with the help of the ghost warehouse, she could barely manage more than a few.
When it came time to split the bamboo, she remained in the possessed state. One swing of the blade split a stalk cleanly in two, then again into four, and again into eight. Based on the paper car blueprint, she prepared various sizes and lengths of bamboo strips, with extra to spare.
Then she laid them out evenly under the sun to dry, reducing moisture and increasing flexibility. Preparing the bamboo alone took her the entire day. Without the paper soldier's help, it would've been impossible to finish in time.
The weather forecast predicted rain that evening, so by dusk, Song Miaozhu collected the bamboo and moved it to the attic for further drying.
As night fell, rain began to pour, accompanied by thunder.
Song Miaozhu went downstairs to infuse her paper crafts with spiritual energy. Even though spirit-infused crafting was already completed, the items still needed regular infusions to grow stronger over time.
Once she finished, she headed to the ghost warehouse to attend her lesson with the ghost instructors. As her cultivation advanced, the time she could stay in the underworld grew longer. She could now stay for four hours each day, so she needed to begin early to keep up with tomorrow's schedule.
Midway through the lesson, the small paper servants at home noticed the monitors had gone dark again. Another power outage.
It wasn't the first outage Song Miaozhu had experienced, especially during rain. But the last time the power had gone out, it had been no accident—kidnappers had severed the lines to disable her security systems. This time, the darkness was met with immediate vigilance.
Though soaked, her Yin Paper–armored paper servants clung to the outer walls rather than retreat for preservation. Even in rain, caution took precedence over wear and tear.
One of them scaled the rear wall with stiff, mechanical patience, scanning the town below.
All of Yuanshan was blacked out. Even the streetlights were dead.
At first glance, it seemed like nothing more than weather damage to the power grid. The storm had been brewing all evening.
The servants relaxed slightly, returning to their patrol pattern. Song Miaozhu, who had momentarily paused her underworld lesson, resumed it in silence.
But half an hour later, a new sound cut through the rain.
A power tool.
It wasn't loud for long, maybe twenty seconds at most—but it was too clean, too sharp. Not thunder. Not wind. Not something that belonged here.
They moved swiftly to investigate.
By then, a hole had already been sawed into the back gate, and an arm reached through to unlock it.
"Intruders!"
The little paper servants immediately sent word to Song Miaozhu.
Inside the ghost warehouse's private room, she stood up at once. "Teacher, something urgent has come up. That's all for today."
She had long prepared for something like this to happen during her time in the underworld and had given advance warning to the ghost instructors. The instructor said nothing and disappeared.
By the time she returned to her body in the living world, the breach had occurred.
Through the servants' eyes, she saw what the paper armor hadn't stopped in time. A hole had been sawed into the back gate, just large enough for an arm to reach in. The bolt was slid open from the inside.
The back gate creaked.
Rain poured in. So did the men.
No less than a hundred, moving in coordinated formation.
Black cloaks, full-face masks, bodies hidden beneath gear.
Once under the eaves, they lifted their raincoats to reveal guns. Despite not carrying any visible light sources, they moved confidently in the dark. Clearly, they had all opened their spiritual sight.
Some pressed in through the rear. Others moved to unseal the front gate, clearly prepared for a full encirclement. Once the front locks gave way, the flood began.
They didn't knock. They didn't announce themselves. They simply flowed inside like a tide.
The rain never slowed.
No lights were carried, but they moved confidently in the pitch black. Every one of them had opened their spiritual sight. Even with modern weapons in hand, they operated like old-world ghosts—silent, swift, and precise.
One of them kicked through the French window to her paper crafting studio.
Curtains tore open, revealing the wall of Spirit-Gathering Fortune Dolls—neatly seated, silent, and bowl-bearing.
More than one intruder drew a sharp breath.
That wall alone was worth more than their combined annual salaries.
One man reached for a doll, only to be stopped by the quiet order of the one in command. "Don't touch anything. We find the target first. Once she's subdued, the rest is ours."
He raised a compact device. It blinked once, then settled. "She's underground."
"They've got a basement. Search for the entrance."
At that moment, Song Miaozhu stood motionless beneath their feet, watching everything unfold.
She had no idea what device they were using, only that it had pinpointed her location with frightening ease. If it could find her, it could find her other secrets. She would not let them touch the cursed paper dolls.
"Begin evacuation," she ordered the servants. "Clear the basement. Then the attic."
As the servants obeyed, she activated a spirit-tier substitution paper doll.
In an instant, it appeared in the second-floor living room.
She followed a second later, teleporting straight to it.
The substitution burned away in her wake, its spiritual shell cracking into ash. But now she was upstairs—and above the invaders.
The first thing she did was call forth a squad of five-colored paper warriors.
Then a second.
Then a third.
They didn't appear silently. They erupted, bursting from spellfolded seals like soldiers answering a war horn.
Five-meter paper scrolls unfurled across the living room. Out of them stepped towering figures—tall women, double-knotted hair, blank eyes, and shoulders like temple gates. The paper groaned against itself as it bent into form.
Some leapt off the balcony. Others surged down the stairs.
The room emptied fast, so she summoned more.
In all, four squads appeared—one hundred ninety-five fully armed paper soldiers. Each one bore the refined spirit-energy signature of a mid-tier cultivator. Silent. Loyal. And absolutely merciless.
Against a hundred armed intruders, even if they were well-trained cultivators, they stood no chance.
Downstairs, the scanning device lost its signal.
"Wait... she's... above us now?"
That was the last sentence the intruders had time to say. Before they could react more, two-meter-tall muscular "female bodyguards" burst in from upstairs and outside.
They had expected a pair of twin bodyguards, but dozens of identical bun-haired women? That was far from normal.
And just moments ago, the device had picked up only one breathing signature inside the house!
There was no time to think. The bodyguards from outside were already engaging, and those inside clashed with the ones charging down the stairs.
The sheer height and numbers of the bodyguards were overwhelming. The intruders had no choice but to open fire.
Gunfire rang out, but the bodyguards kept advancing. Sparks flew as bullets scraped against them. It almost seemed like no one had landed a shot.
But they had. The bullets hit—yet left no wounds. Not even a drop of blood.
Were these even humans?
Within moments, the paper warriors had stormed into their ranks, snatching guns and snapping them in half. One even crushed their wall-penetrating radar with a single stomp.
The attackers could barely fight back. How could they, when the enemy was that strong and utterly impervious to bullets?
"They might be spirit entities! Use spiritual items!"
The man being protected at the center of the group finally spoke.