Returning home, Song Miaozhu first prepared goat's milk formula for the three kittens before turning her attention to the mountain of resumes she'd received the day before.
She also cleared out the new applications that had piled up in the shop today. There were simply too many. By eleven, she reopened the Ghost Shop—her first act being to tear down the "Help Wanted" notice from the door.
"Boss Song, why take it down so soon? Did you hire someone already?" A ghost customer, jostling at the entrance for goods, called out.
"Too many applications. I need time to review them all," she replied.
"Well, be quick about it!" The ghost customer shoved their way into the shop. "I've been queuing since yesterday. Finally got my turn! Quick, quick, give me a 2-liter bottle of Coke!"
"Coming right up. That'll be sixteen hell coins," Song Miaozhu said.
"Here! Take it!" A fistful of paper money fluttered onto the counter. The ghost grabbed the bottle and took a long, dramatic swig. "Ahhh! Worth every bit—first sip alone's worth fourteen-fifty!"
"Thank you, come again!"
No sooner had one left than the next customer surged in.
After just four days of selling mortal-world goods, both Song Miaozhu and her ghostly clientele had settled into the shop's rhythm.
The day's stock sold out swiftly. Then came the big spenders—ghosts who'd placed hefty custom orders yesterday, arriving to pay their deposits. With transactions wrapped up early, she even had time to tally today's earnings: Deposits matched yesterday's, but walk-in sales soared. Total profit? Higher.
310,000+ hell coins—over 620,000 RMB.
Before she could funnel the spirit money into the Treasure Bowl, an elderly ghost in Song-dynasty official robes appeared at the door. His eyes swept the shop with disdain before he addressed the air:
"Where is the proprietor? Do you carry premium Qingming lanterns?"
"I'm the owner," Song Miaozhu said. "Apologies, but our mortal-world goods are sold out. We only have low-to-mid grade gold ingot molds left, and even those are limited. We do offer premium custom ordering services, though—"
"Another new proprietor?" The ghost cut her off, shaking his head. "Shop No. 414 on Yinshui Alley… each generation worse than the last."
With that, he left, muttering as he went.
Miaozhu's face flushed with embarrassment. The thrill of today's windfall dimmed.
During Qingming Festival, living families honor ancestors by hanging Qingming diaozi—elaborate paper lanterns—at gravesites.
The dead have their own traditions.
According to the Fengdu: A Handbook for New Ghosts, the underworld holds an annual Qingming Flower Exhibition when the festival ends. The most exquisite lantern wins its ghostly owner a fortune in spirit longevity rewards—a highlight of the underworld's social calendar.
Lately, with Qingming rituals peaking in the mortal world, the ghost realm had grown more colorful. Spirits flaunted their vibrant paper streamers through Fengdu's streets.
But beauty standards differ between worlds.
Ghosts cannot take physical offerings—only their essence or the intent behind them.
Modern, machine-pressed paper blossoms might dazzle living eyes, but ghosts extract less than 1% of their potential essence. Only handcrafted offerings, infused with a paper-artisan's skill and a family's devotion, can fully manifest in the underworld—vivid, luminous, and alive.
The Secret Art of Paper Crafting mentioned graded Qingming blossoms that not only appear lifelike but also shield spirits from wind, rain, and even yang-energy harm.
Ancestors from Ansou Hall Paper Shop had once dominated Fengdu's competitions. Their creations were fiercely sought after. Until today, Song Miaozhu had assumed this legacy existed only in the manual's pages.
The Heaven-tier Ghost Shop license—granting her access to both realms—was meant to help descendants master paper arts after surviving mortal hardships.
Yet here she was, a novice who hadn't even perfected basic ingot molds, gloating over snack resale profits.
The realization sobered her.
She needed to hire shop assistants immediately, freeing herself to study Secret Art of Paper Crafting. Otherwise, she'd miss the point entirely. Even financially, graded paper art far outperformed imported sodas.
Qingming blossoms, after all, were only slightly harder to make than paper ingots—both meant solely for ghosts, designed to shine brightest in darkness.
She closed the shop, converted the hell coins, and returned to the living world.
[Wealth Vault Deposit: ¥623,212]
This time, the number barely stirred her.
The next morning, Miaozhu headed out early with her kitten carrier and two large, bulging black plastic bags. She had plans to visit the cemetery with Aunt Chen and Chen Shuanghe. The Chen family lived right at the foot of Xiaozhu Mountain, the closest neighbors to Miaozhu's home. She arrived in no time.
Shuanghe was cleaning the windows of her beloved car when she heard footsteps. Looking up, she smiled. "Oh! You brought Little Goldie and the others with you?"
"They're still little," Miaozhu explained. "They need milk every four hours. I don't feel comfortable leaving them alone yet. Pets aren't allowed in the cemetery, though—do you mind if I leave the kittens in your car during the visit?"
The kittens had shown they were surprisingly brave. Even when she brought them into the city once, they hadn't reacted badly. That gave Miaozhu the confidence to carry them around now.
"Of course you can!" said Chen Shuanghe. "Here, let me take the carrier. Put your things in the trunk first. Oh—make sure you tell them not to scratch anything! These three little rascals you picked up are clever and full of personality. They really only trust you. It's like they can understand what you're saying! If you don't give the okay, they won't let anyone else even touch them."
"Naturally! I rescued them myself—and their mama cat personally handed them over to me!" Miaozhu said proudly.
"Yeah, yeah, keep dreaming," Chen Shuanghe replied with a laugh. "I don't believe a word."
Miaozhu: "…"
"No one ever believes the truth. If only I could mention Uncle Chen's ghost without sounding insane."
Chen Shuanghe spent a while cuddling the kittens before reluctantly handing them back when Aunt Chen came out with supplies. She helped open the trunk.
"If my restaurant weren't so busy, I'd totally adopt one of these cuties myself. They're just too adorable!"
As Aunt Chen loaded paper money and incense into the trunk, her eyes caught a glint of gold peeking from Miaozhu's plastic bag. "Hey—Miaozhu, is that hand-made paper gold you've brought?"
"Yes," Miaozhu nodded. "The shop's still under renovation, so I haven't made much yet. Everything I made before was bought out by Grandpa Zhao. This is all that's left."