"It must have something to do with the woodcarving," Song Miaozhu said.
"Woodcarving? I was just about to ask—why did the ghost say he couldn't get close to Master when he was carving?" Zhao Mumu questioned.
"When Grandpa Zhao carves, spiritual energy gathers around him, blocking yin energy. That's why the ghost couldn't approach," Song Miaozhu explained. "The reason he could see the ghost at all is probably because carving allowed him to absorb spiritual energy, which altered his body. But the change isn't complete yet—his Heavenly Eye isn't fully open, so his vision and hearing are still unclear. That's why he mistook the ghost."
"Spiritual energy? Heavenly Eye?" Zhao Mumu looked like her worldview had just been flipped upside down. "Miaozhu, are you serious?"
"Dead serious," Song Miaozhu replied. "I've opened my Heavenly Eye, which is how I can see ghosts, yin energy, and spiritual energy. Spiritual energy has already returned to the world—things like this will only become more common."
Zhao Mumu didn't even know what expression to make anymore. The world suddenly felt so surreal. As an ordinary person, she couldn't help feeling a little anxious. "So… if a ghost is registered in the underworld, they really can't just harm the living?"
"Most won't dare. Once registered, the underworld monitors their actions. Unless they're willing to throw away their afterlife, they won't take the risk," Song Miaozhu assured her. "And you don't need to be afraid—if Grandpa Zhao can absorb spiritual energy through carving, so can you."
Zhao Mumu pointed at herself, eyes wide. "Me?"
"If you don't believe me, help resolve this ghost situation first. Then try carving something. Who knows? Maybe you're already absorbing energy without realizing it," Miaozhu said.
Zhao Mumu still felt dizzy from all this—but since it involved her master, she forced herself to focus. "So what do we do now? Do we destroy the ghost to eliminate the problem, or just drive him back to the underworld? And what about Master? He still thinks that ghost is Shimu—he won't even let me touch the doll!"
"Just tell him the truth," Song Miaozhu suggested. "If he doesn't believe it, we can keep the doll at my place for now. Once his Heavenly Eye fully opens and he sees for himself, he'll understand."
"Alright! I'll go wake Master!" Zhao Mumu ran to the back courtyard without hesitation.
She soaked a towel in cold water and laid it across the old man's face, then called his name twice. He groaned and stirred awake. Even Song Miaozhu had to admire how skillfully Zhao Mumu had knocked him out earlier.
"What happened to me?" the old man muttered, still groggy. "Ow—why does the back of my neck hurt?"
"Ahem." Zhao Mumei cleared her throat guiltily. "Master! You, uh… you mistook a ghost for someone else! If not for Miaozhu, you would've thought Zhu Dagui from Taoshuling Village was Shimu!"
The old man froze. "What? That's impossible!"
"Grandpa Zhao," Song Miaozhu interjected, "you never clearly saw the ghost's appearance, right?"
He nodded.
"And you didn't fully hear its voice either?"
Grandpa Zhao hesitated. "But… it was at Sufang's grave! Who else could it be?"
"Grandma's grave is empty now—she might have already reincarnated," Song Miaozhu said gently. "The one who followed you was Zhu Dagui, drawn by the paper money you burned."
Grandpa Zhao's face paled. Without another word, he stood and marched back to the workshop, determined to see the doll for himself.
Zhao Mumu moved to stop him, but Song Miaozhu held her back. "Let him look one more time. Even if he can't hear clearly, he might catch enough to realize the truth."
To their surprise, the moment Grandpa Zhao stepped inside, he halted abruptly. "Y-you—who are you?!"
"I told you! I'm not your wife!" Zhu Dagui wailed, thoroughly exasperated. If this misunderstanding continued, he feared that terrifying girl would scatter his soul before his afterlife was up.
"Grandpa Zhao… you can see him now?" Song Miaozhu asked.
The old man nodded slowly. "This time, I can tell his height. Sufang was much taller than him—she was a full head taller than me!"
Zhu Dagui scoffed. "What kind of man brags about his wife being taller than him?"
"Quiet." Miaozhu shot him a glare.
Zhu Daguai quickly shrank back into the puppet, acting innocent.
Turning back to the old man, Miaozhu asked, "What do you plan to do with this ghost? He hasn't harmed you, but he did follow you here out of greed."
Zhu Daguai sheepishly poked his head out. "I'll leave as soon as night falls! I swear I won't come back! Please!"
"Let him go," the old man sighed. "It was my mistake. But get out of that puppet! I carved that in Sufang's image!"
"It's broad daylight. The yang energy outside could hurt me…"
Before he could finish, he saw Miaozhu raise a rattan cane, and he scrambled out of the puppet in a panic.
"I'm out! I'm out! Don't hit me!"
"Fine. Stay here until nightfall. If you're still around tomorrow, don't bother making excuses," Miaozhu warned.
"Yes! Yes! I'll leave as soon as it gets dark!" Zhu Daguai didn't dare argue.
"Grandpa Zhao, let's step outside. A ghost's presence fills a room with yin energy—it's not good for the living."
She led them back to the courtyard, making sure they sat in direct sunlight. "Even though Zhu Dagui didn't actively harm you, his lingering yin energy can still affect your health. Sunlight will help counteract it."
After hearing the full story from his apprentice, Grandpa Zhao bowed his head to Song Miaozhu. "Huaishui'er, thank you. I'd have made a fool of myself otherwise. I'll finish your shop's sign tomorrow and have Mumu deliver it."
"No rush on the sign," Song Miaozhu said. "But tell me—when did you first start seeing ghosts? Aside from faint glimpses, have you noticed any other changes?"
This was the only other person she'd met who could absorb spiritual energy. She had to compare notes. Originally, she thought spiritual energy was tied to papercraft. But now, woodcarving worked too. There had to be a common thread—something that revealed the true rules of cultivation in this new era.
Grandpa Zhao pondered. "Hard to say exactly when it started. I've only seen this one ghost, and I still got it wrong." He rubbed his temples. "But physically… I've been feeling lighter, healthier, like I've gone back to my thirties or forties. Oh, and a few days ago, after finishing that doll, my hair turned from white to black overnight! I thought maybe Sufang didn't like how old I looked and magically fixed it for me!"
Zhao Mumei gasped. "Wait—you didn't dye it yourself?!"
She'd assumed he'd snuck out to a salon, too embarrassed to admit he'd cared about his appearance in front of his late wife's spirit.