After Yuan Weiyuan and the others left, Song Miaozhu explained everything to Chen Yuanyuan.
"Yuanyuan, I've officially offended the SEIU now. Completely."
She slumped onto the sofa, the adrenaline from her earlier confrontation fading into dread.
"I really don't get how some novel protagonists dare to collaborate with the government the moment they gain supernatural abilities, becoming honored guests in some 'win-win' scenario.
How does that even happen? I mean, sure, national policies are made for the people, but national power is made up of individuals, and human hearts are hard to predict. Everyone wants benefits for their own side, but how many real win-win situations are there?"
Chen Yuanyuan frowned. "You're now the only living person who can contact the underworld. That's dangerous.
Protagonists in 'national destiny' stories usually have external threats forcing cooperation, or abilities valuable but not covetable enough to invite seizure. You?
Spiritual energy is awakening, yes, but society's still stable. There's no threat the country can't handle. And your ability... is something those half-dead old men are drooling over. Worse, you have no way to protect yourself. If they want to treat you fairly, that's their kindness. If not, you have no say.
When it's a matter of life and death, no one stays noble.
Now that they've been punished by the underworld, they'll only fear death more."
She bit her lip. "Can't your wealthy underworld ancestors help? They got you legal underworld access and cultivation resources—surely they have connections to protect you?"
Song Miaozhu shook her head.
She didn't dare say it out loud, but the truth was... there was no ancestor. She was the ancestor.
"Then you've got to cultivate harder. Develop some ultimate move," Chen Yuanyuan urged.
Song Miaozhu sighed. "It's not that easy to create some big killer technique. This spiritual recovery cycle seems entirely focused on objects. Spiritual energy won't even form direct offensive spells. It's too difficult!"
She began counting her cards.
Paper-cut servants. Good for recon, terrible in combat. Zero attack power.
Cursed paper dolls. Some killing power, but only effective when the right medium is collected beforehand.
Paper armor. Might block a few bullets or knife slashes, but it's limited. No amount of paper armor could withstand modern firepower.
Substitute paper dolls. Good for escaping.
Yang Paper Clothes. Hard to damage, but also can't protect her much.
And then, as the boss of a top-tier ghost shop, she could project her soul into the underworld, earning hell coins that she could convert to RMB or spirit stones.
Each of these abilities would be a rare treasure to other cultivators.
But unfortunately, they all had value but no lethality.
She was like someone sitting on a pile of treasures, unarmed, with only her ability to run away as her real skill.
Which was why she didn't dare reveal anything.
Now look. The fact that she could travel to the underworld got exposed, and the SEIU immediately showed up to dump all their underworld screw-ups on her. If they found out anything else, she'd probably end up under constant surveillance.
If they learned about the Secret Art of Paper Crafting, and she didn't have the strength to enforce her own say in things, then no matter how much she offered, they'd always think she was hiding more.
If they knew about the spirit stones, she'd become a human ATM. No matter how much she gave, it would never be enough, and they'd want full control of her ability.
Whenever she thought about it, Song Miaozhu just wanted to lock down all her secrets. She wouldn't play a single card unless she had no other choice, and once she did, it had to be a trump card. A king bomb. One move to end the game.
All in all, she needed to lie low for a while longer.
Hopefully, the SEIU would take her warning seriously. Even if they didn't, she hoped they wouldn't come knocking again so soon. She needed time to grow stronger.
"Yuanyuan, I'm dropping out. No diploma. Tomorrow, I'm returning home to cultivate in seclusion."
She couldn't afford ten more days.
"No diploma?!" Chen Yuanyuan blinked, then nodded. "You don't need a job anymore. Better secure your safety first."
Song Miaozhu nodded. "Even if I need to escape, it'll be easier in my hometown than in Jiangcheng. Leaving the country isn't an option. The underworld only accepts souls from this land. If I cross the border, I won't be able to get in.
It's better to disappear into the deep mountains. There's a national nature reserve right behind my home. I've got spiritual energy. I won't starve."
Chen Yuanyuan imagined Song Miaozhu living like a wild woman in the forest and shuddered.
"Don't be so pessimistic. It hasn't come to that yet. The underworld handed down punishments through dreams. A ton of people know. The SEIU isn't one solid block either. There's going to be internal conflict. You just focus on powering up for now."
"If things really do get that bad, and you need paper, just have a ghost messenger pass me a dream. I'll find high-quality spirit paper and sneak it to you. I study art, so I need good paper anyway!"
Song Miaozhu was genuinely touched. "How about becoming my apprentice? I'll teach you paper crafting."
She had been hesitant about taking on some random, possibly clueless student, but Yuanyuan was trustworthy and had an art background.
"No thanks! I'm doing just fine with art. I'm not getting into your creepy paper-crafting stuff," Chen Yuanyuan said. "If you think I'm going to call you 'Master,' you can forget it!"
"...You've got a serious prejudice against paper crafting and me, huh? Are we even still besties?"
"Real besties settle accounts clearly!" Just as Yuanyuan finished her sentence, there was a knock on the door.
This knock was different. Slow, deliberate, rhythmic. Not like the aggressive pounding from earlier. Still, both of them instantly tensed up again.
Through a little paper servant hidden in the fire hose cabinet outside the door, Song Miaozhu already saw who it was. Her hand curled into a fist.
"Yuanyuan, don't move. I'll get the door. If anything weird happens, just say you don't know anything. That's all you need to do."
If the SEIU had returned, it probably wasn't good.
Good thing she'd kept Chen Yuanyuan in the dark. No lies needed—just ignorance.
She strode to the door and swung it open without checking the peephole.
"What are you doing back here again?"