As the sky darkened and the yang energy weakened, the Japanese ghosts in the valley grew restless. Through the feed transmitted by the little paper servants hidden among the leaves, Su Miao-zhu saw the ghosts beginning to gather and form ranks. These ghosts… they were organized?
When the last streak of daylight vanished beyond the horizon, the Japanese ghosts had already lined up neatly. The ghost leader, previously hidden deep within the group, now revealed himself. He fired a spectral bullet into the air, and at once, the ghostly troops floated out of the valley in perfect formation. Judging by the direction, they were heading due south—toward the Golden Rose Summer Villa.
"No wonder the yin energy in that area's forests was denser than elsewhere."
Originally, the plan was to use the opera player as bait to delay them.
But now… that didn't seem necessary.
Song Miaozhu instructed the small paper servants not to activate the opera player yet. Instead, she sent two of them to follow the ghosts from a distance and observe their movements.
One paper servant climbed to the treetops on the southern mountainside and clearly saw rolling waves of resentment energy leaving Ghost Mountain, lingering behind the Golden Rose Summer Villa. Once the yin energy dispersed, the Japanese ghosts infiltrated the villa.
But they couldn't enter the buildings—at least not yet. They just roamed the villa grounds aimlessly. After the villa's ambient yin energy thickened, the ghostly group gathered again and floated westward—toward the forest park. That part of the forest had dense tree cover and lingering gloom, making it easier for the ghosts to move about.
"…Are they trying to spread yin energy everywhere?" Su Miaozhu frowned.
"It seemed the Japanese ghosts couldn't step foot where yin energy was lacking. So they were dispersing it at night—gradually tainting the surroundings, expanding their territory bit by bit?"
At this rate, the forest park would soon turn into a ghost-infested death zone. Fortunately, areas exposed to direct sunlight weren't so easily overwhelmed by yin energy. That reassured Su Miaozhu somewhat. For now, the ghosts couldn't cause serious destruction.
She ordered the paper servants in the western forest to retrieve the opera machines and transfer them to the forest park scouts. They were to move ahead of the ghosts and drop a machine every so often—luring the ghosts farther and farther away.
Meanwhile, the paper servants hidden in the valley began to move.
They peeled back layers of fallen leaves and loose soil, revealing not only half-rotted bones but also scraps of decayed clothing. The bones were crucial to the ghosts. Taking them risked not only discovery but also being tracked down through their connection. The soil, however, tainted with blood and flesh and steeped in the ghosts' resentment for decades, had a deep enough link without being traceable.
Especially since the ghost leader's aura was heavy and domineering—nurtured not by offerings or death rites, but pure hatred.
Su Miaozhu had no intention of drawing his attention.
The paper servants dug diligently, sending loads of soil into the Ghost Shop's storage. There, specially prepared spirit-wood boxes were waiting—perfect for sealing cursed materials. At the same time, the Japanese ghosts in the western forest park discovered an opera player blaring revolutionary songs. After decades of isolation, hearing the very sounds they despised most sent them into a frenzy. The opera player was destroyed by a surge of ghost energy before it could even finish one song.
"Switch to the ones with Japanese tunes!"
Song Miaozhu quickly ordered. The paper servants obeyed, placing the new player at a distance before hiding. The ghosts were indeed drawn, clustering around the device and whispering among themselves. At first, it seemed effective—but within minutes, they erupted in rage again. A ghost bayonet stabbed through the player, silencing it once more.
Song Miaozhu: "…"
Thankfully, she had bought a whole stack of opera players.
"Keep placing them! Buy as much time as possible!"
The ghosts were lured farther and farther from the valley. After repeated encounters, the lesser ghosts remained oblivious, but their leader seemed to sense something amiss. Each time he heard the music, he destroyed the player immediately. His resentment-addled mind wasn't as sharp as in life, so while he found the frequent appearances suspicious, he didn't think deeper.
Once all the opera players were exhausted, Song Miaozhu gave up on distracting them and redirected all the paper servants to dig in the valley, leaving only one on the mountaintop to monitor the ghosts' movements.
Beneath the rustling leaves in the valley, nineteen paper servants worked diligently. To avoid alerting the ghosts, they carefully avoided the bones. But the more they dug, the harder it became to avoid them entirely. At first, Song Miaozhu was tense, but seeing the ghostly horde still slowly expanding in the forest park, she relaxed slightly.
Then, deep into the night, one paper servant accidentally brushed against a mostly intact skeleton at the bottom of the pit—and the ghostly horde immediately surged back toward the valley.
"Quick! Dig up more soil around this skeleton!"
This had to be the leader's remains!
The paper servants, knowing the ghosts were returning, swarmed the spot and dug frantically. Now, they no longer cared about touching the bones—they shoved the skeleton aside and kept digging. One mischievous paper servant even kicked the skull. It rolled away with a clatter.
A furious roar echoed through the mountains as resentment energy skyrocketed.
The ghosts sped up their return.
The guilty paper servant quickly withdrew its foot and resumed digging like nothing happened.
Song Miaozhu: "…"
Had TheSecret Art of Paper Crafting been wrong?
These paper servants, animated by her spiritual energy, were supposed to inherit her personality and abilities—but when had she ever been the type to kick skulls for fun?
Though these ghosts didn't deserve respect anyway.
As the ghosts neared the valley, Song Miaozhu tracked their position closely.
Just as they reached the valley edge and she prepared to recall all the servants into the Ghost Shop warehouse, she noticed something strange—the soil in front of one servant was far more saturated with resentment than the rest.
She immediately ordered more digging. A ghost-infused bullet, dark and dense with malevolent energy, was unearthed. Aside from the ghosts themselves, this was the most cursed object in the entire valley. Just as they reached the edge, she was about to order the paper servants into the ghost shop's storage—when she noticed one of them uncovering soil with unusually dense resentment.
She urged it to dig deeper, revealing a bullet—the most resentment-soaked object in the entire valley, aside from the ghosts themselves. Instinct told her this was a crucial cursed medium. "Dig it out and take it!"
The slight delay, however, gave the ghosts time to return. Ghost bullets, condensed from pure resentment, shot toward the paper servants. Their Paper Spirit Armor flickered with light, blocking the first volley. But more bullets followed, and the ghosts lunged forward, claws outstretched.