Song Miaozhu already knew there was not a single ghost left in Ghost Mountain.
She was in the final, crucial days of crafting her paper soldier army. With only a short time left until completion, she had no intention of leaving home now. So, she simply asked Zhao Huoyan to open a video call and show her what was happening on-site.
Putting on a show of concern, she took a look, then said casually, "The increasing yang energy from the summer heat is probably only a minor factor. Something has clearly changed in the mountain. The remaining traces of yin energy no longer have a source, and the thick resentment that once clung to the area has completely disappeared.
That resentment was the root of the persistent yin energy. Now that it's gone, of course the yin would begin to fade quickly under the sun. Resentment like that came from the Japanese ghosts. It emanated endlessly from their souls. So if the resentment is gone, there's only one explanation—the Japanese ghosts have vanished."
She paused, then added, "I'd say that by tomorrow, the yin energy will have dropped back to normal levels. If you're worried, wait until then before entering. At this point, there's no rush."
Her words were confident, and Zhao Huoyan understood her meaning. After a moment of thought, he agreed. The situation in the mountain no longer posed a threat to those outside, and it would be safer to investigate after waiting one more day.
Since they were already speaking, Song Miaozhu took the opportunity to tell him about the changes she observed after infusing spiritual power into the golden ingots and lotus flowers.
It was her way of showing that she had no hard feelings about the SEIU's past behavior and was still open to friendly cooperation.
After ending the call, she turned back to her work.
The next day, Song Miaozhu's phone rang again. This time, the call was from the Lingcheng branch of the SEIU.
"Master Song, we've just confirmed it," Zhao Huoyan said, barely containing his excitement. "The Japanese ghosts inside Ghost Mountain have completely vanished."
"I figured they would," Song Miaozhu replied, her voice cool and measured. "That's one threat removed from Lingcheng. Now the Golden Rose Summer Villa is safe as well. Your team can finally stop guarding that place like a cursed zone and start developing the area properly."
Zhao Huoyan sounded pleased. With more and more new recruits joining their unit, even Old Master Zhao had to admit that their current location at the wood carving shop was no longer suitable. He had already been looking for a better base of operations.
The sudden resolution of Ghost Mountain's problem was unexpected but undeniably convenient. Still, even beneath his satisfaction, there was something else. A question that lingered like smoke.
How had the ghosts disappeared so suddenly?
Zhao Huoyan was not the kind to ignore such a strange development. At first, he considered the possibility that it was tied to the resurgence of spiritual energy. But after checking with central authorities, he confirmed that the other haunted mountains across the country remained highly active. In some areas, the ghosts were growing stronger.
So what made Lingcheng different?
If there was something unique about the area, it would be this—Song Miaozhu was here, the only living person currently known to enter the underworld.
That alone made her unusual.
As if casually, Zhao Huoyan began to speak again, listing several recent findings and scattered anomalies from across the country. Then, smoothly, he slipped in his observation.
Song Miaozhu listened, then played along. "Yeah, how strange... why would only Lingcheng's ghosts disappear?"
Her tone was light, but her mind was alert.
She couldn't admit the truth. Not openly. The Secret Art of Paper Crafting was too dangerous to parade in public, and the curse arts even more so. The fewer people who knew, the better.
Still, thinking of her increasingly depleted curse list, she couldn't help but ask, "Are there still a lot of ghost-infested mountains across the country? Can the SEIU really keep them all under control? With spiritual energy returning, won't ghosts gain even more power in the living world?"
Zhao Huoyan paused. Then answered, his voice carrying that familiar tone—seemingly relaxed, but layered with intent.
"We haven't found a lasting solution yet," he said. "At present, our spiritual power is only enough to contain ghosts, not to destroy them."
He paused again, then added, "There's one case nearby, in Yuncheng. Might interest you. It's along the upper reaches of the Sanyuan River. No drinking water there, just irrigation, but a lot of people have drowned in that river over the years."
He continued, still listening for her reaction.
"After the spiritual resurgence, our agents found the upper river filled with thick yin energy. Same pattern. Japanese soldiers died there as well. Not as many as Lingcheng, but still over a thousand. They're hiding underwater, and since they can move, the infestation is spreading faster than anything we've seen before."
"I see," Song Miaozhu said. But her mind was already calculating.
"The Sanyuan River in Yuncheng… was it far?"
The only problem was that collecting remains from water would be difficult. Her paper servants were terrified of water. Still, with the right modifications, maybe paper spirit armor could allow them to function. Even if Zhao was testing her, what difference did it make?
Even if she acted, the SEIU wouldn't be able to prove anything. Not unless they caught her in the middle of a curse ritual.
And if they did come knocking, she would deny everything.
Let them guess. Let them circle around her. As long as they had no proof, they couldn't touch her.
She wouldn't make a move yet. Not until her army of paper soldiers was complete. When all forty-nine were fully prepared, she would finally have the security she needed.
National weapons might outmatch her in raw firepower, but they couldn't be deployed freely in civilian zones. Not without political fallout. And if the SEIU tried something subtle or underhanded, she was ready for that too.
Forty-nine soldiers were only the beginning. She could craft more. Dozens more.
When one woman held the strength of an army, she no longer needed to be cautious.
If Zhao Huoyan knew just how far she was willing to go—how close she was to having a force capable of stalling even a full SEIU squad—he might have regretted calling her at all. Or perhaps not. Perhaps he already suspected.
After all, he had chosen his words with care. Avoided direct accusations. Pushed, but never threatened. He knew she had secrets. And now, so did the higher-ups.
She was the only living person who could freely enter the underworld, unaffected even when the gate between the living and the dead was severed. There had to be something special about her.
Zhao Huoyan was not afraid of that mystery. What concerned him was how she might choose to use it.
So far, she had acted with care. She had been the first to report the spiritual resurgence, had offered old cultivation texts, had warned them about the threat of Ghost Mountain before it grew out of control. At a time when most people were still skeptical of ghosts and cultivation, she had not used her knowledge to harm others.
She had kept her power in check.
That alone made her valuable. Potentially dangerous, yes, but not hostile. Not yet.
The SEIU had been created to guard the nation against supernatural threats. As long as a person did not threaten national security, they were not the enemy. In the past, SEIU had made mistakes. Let power go to their heads. But those days were over. If someone like Song Miaozhu wanted to keep her secrets, they would let her.
So long as she did not misuse them.
Zhao Huoyan's questions about Ghost Mountain had been meant to test Song Miaozhu's character, to see if a trustworthy partnership was possible.
But she was far too cautious, and not a single word slipped.
Still, the fact that she had asked about the other ghost mountains—that was proof she wasn't completely indifferent to the safety of ordinary people.
Ghost Mountain might be resolved, but the rest of the country could not afford to wait. And with a recent discovery still on his mind, Zhao Huoyan decided it was time to stop circling around the issue.