It didn't take long before Song Miaozhu noticed the Yin energy downstream growing thicker. The other ghosts must have returned. The paper soldiers stationed downstream had already begun fighting. The little paper servants were glowing with spiritual light. Their Yin Paper Clothes and spiritual armor were in full effect.
Sensing the clash downstream, they frantically dug into the river mud, working as fast as they could. But no matter how powerful the paper soldiers were, a few dozen of them couldn't hold back over a thousand wrathful ghosts.
Song Miaozhu issued her order: stall them at all costs, buy as much time as possible, and fight until the last moment.
She was already prepared to repair every last paper soldier afterward. But repairing them wasn't much trouble. All it took was cutting new paper, pasting it together, and reawakening each one with spiritual power. There wasn't even a need to wait for midnight.
After all, these paper soldiers had already been crafted through the Secret Art of Paper Crafting. They only needed one fresh talisman to bind spiritual power, soul energy, and will into form. As the ghosts' attacks grew fiercer, the soldiers' spiritual energy was rapidly consumed.
Five minutes later, their light began to flicker and fade. Their hidden forms were revealed. Without their manifested armor, their paper bodies were fragile. They were shredded in a single exchange.
The full horde of Japanese ghosts had returned to that section of the river. The few paper soldiers stationed there tried to hold them off, but they were quickly destroyed. The ghosts swarmed toward the little paper servants, who were still busy digging through the riverbed. The stirred-up mud clouded the water, turning it murky and foul.
With each blast of ghostly energy, the Yin Paper Clothes and armor cracked and peeled away. In the end, even the paper servants' bodies were soaked. Then, the mental connection in Song Miaozhu's mind went dark. The link was gone.
Maybe too much time had passed. Or maybe the rushing water and silt had buried the remains beneath too many layers of sediment. Despite all that digging, the little paper servants had only managed to retrieve a shallow basin of Yin-tainted mud. No bones. No trace of corpses.
It wasn't even clear if the sludge had absorbed any remnants of ghostly flesh or blood. Song Miaozhu glanced at the ghostly river. With all her paper soldiers and servants destroyed, she could only return home and test the cursed mud.
If it didn't work, she would just make more paper soldiers and come back.
Judging from what happened today, a single unit of forty-nine paper soldiers wasn't enough to block a thousand Japanese ghosts. Two units, ninety-eight in total, might hold them downstream. Four units, one hundred and forty-seven, might be able to pin the whole ghost horde to the riverbed and press them down.
Song Miaozhu left the riverbank and drove back to Lingdu via the highway.
As soon as she got home, she went straight to her basement, to the special room used for storing cursed paper dolls. She pushed aside a few talismans made from foreign fugitives. Then, she cut one thousand and twenty-eight new paper figures, laid them out, and brushed each one with the river mud. She even added the exact burial location of the ghosts for precision.
Dipping a needle in rooster's blood, she activated her spiritual power and began the ritual, chanting curses as she pierced the paper:
"Japanese fiends, first needle to the head, second to the throat, third to the heart..."
When the incantation was done, she felt a sudden, familiar thrill rise inside her.
A smile touched her lips. "Did it work?"
She relaxed slightly. At least her journey hadn't been a waste. Even a few successful curses would be worthwhile. To her surprise, all one thousand and twenty-eight paper dolls activated successfully. She had expected nothing more than a few halfhearted responses. After all, the river mud was only superficially tainted with resentment. It hadn't absorbed much blood or rotted flesh. There could be only one explanation.
"My cursecraft has improved again?"
The higher one's level in cursecraft, the less reliant they were on high-quality mediums. That level was tied to her spiritual cultivation and her experience in cursing. At lower levels, cursing targets stronger than oneself required tight connections through flesh or blood, and the curses had to be light. Otherwise, the backlash could be fatal.
The best curse medium was always flesh or bodily remains. Slightly weaker were nails and hair. Below that were worn clothing, personal belongings, then names, addresses, birthdates, and so on. Once a curse practitioner reached a high enough level, a simple name—or even just a nickname—could do the job.
Right now, she had managed to curse the Japanese ghosts using nothing more than mud steeped in resentment. That would make collecting curse mediums far easier in the future. She looked around at the now crowded ritual chamber.
"It hasn't been this lively in here for a while," she said with satisfaction, pouring herself another bowl of rooster's blood.
"There are so many ghost hotspots in the files. I should spoil myself a little. Three curses a day from now on."
The ghosts of the Sanyuan River howled again. Their resentment and ghostly energy were mysteriously draining away. After completing her three rounds of daily curses, Song Miaozhu suddenly thought of the large hole Lingma had kicked into the fence yesterday.
She wondered whether The SEIU had noticed her presence. If they had figured out she visited the river, they'd probably send someone to inspect it. But she wasn't sure anymore. Zhao Huoyan had said The SEIU didn't always monitor her that closely.
And if those ghosts still needed time to be fully eliminated, what if no one fixed that hole? What if some regular person wandered past and got pulled into the river by a violent ghost?
That would be a disaster. She might even be held accountable in the underworld. She had no desire to experience any of the punishments in the Eighteen Levels of Hell. So she quickly sent a message to Zhao Huoyan.
[Miaow Zhu]: Team Leader Zhao, I went to the Sanyuan River today. I accidentally broke a section of the fence. It was around this spot [photo]. The ghost problem in the river isn't resolved yet, so the area probably still needs protection.
She wasn't worried about them discovering her actions. She had used her stealthiest little paper servant, hidden inside a stone, to dive into the water. Unless The SEIU installed underwater surveillance—which was impossible, since the Yin energy would disrupt any signal—they couldn't detect her.
[Zhao Huoyan]: !!!
[Zhao Huoyan]: You went to the Sanyuan River? Was it dangerous? Are you hurt?
[Miaow Zhu]: Not hurt, and it wasn't too dangerous. Just time-consuming. I'm mostly worried someone might wander through that broken part.
[Zhao Huoyan]: Don't worry, Master Song. I'll contact someone to repair the fence. That was my oversight. I'll also get you a key to all the ghost-site barriers across the country!
A small smile tugged at her lips. Team Leader Zhao was always so reliable.
Now she wouldn't have to worry about climbing fences again.
[Zhao Huoyan]: Also, spiritual power helps enhance your physical body—mainly strength, speed, agility, and jumping. It works even better with training. If you're considering exercise or learning some combat techniques, you're welcome to join our training sessions at The SEIU. It could make your future ghost-site visits much safer.
[Miaow Zhu]: Thanks for the tip. I'll think about it.