"Master Song, this might sound a little blunt, but... if you die, will we still be able to retrieve the relics stored in the underworld?"
"As expected of The SEIU's central think tank. They had considered everything", Song Miaozhu thought.
Leasing warehouse space in the underworld really was a great deal for The SEIU, but it came with one unavoidable risk—the possibility that her death could lead to the permanent loss of those relics.
She didn't try to hide the truth. "If I have time before I die, I'll make sure the paper servant managers move everything back to the human realm. But if there's no time... there's nothing I can do. They can move between the realms only because I can. If I die, they lose that connection too."
Everyone listening caught a key detail. She had said "all the relics," not "your relics."
That alone showed she had no intention of hoarding or stealing any SEIU property.
"I support leasing underworld storage from Master Song," one person said. "There's a risk, but the benefits are enormous. At this point, it's the only realistic way we can escape the chaos of trying to manage everything ourselves."
"I agree. Master Song lives on Xiaozhu Mountain, which is well-guarded by spirit creatures. Given her cautious nature, she would never allow herself to fall into a hopeless situation. As long as she's safe, our relics will be safe too."
"That's right. Everyone is running around putting out fires with relics these days. It's disrupting cultivation progress. Having a dedicated place to store them is ideal."
…
With unanimous approval, Director Zhao immediately confirmed the decision.
"This is settled. Notify all departments. Both the central SEIU and regional SEIU teams are to inventory their relics and calculate the necessary warehouse space and number of paper servant managers. The central SEIU will allocate the funding. Zhao Huoyan, as head of the Lingcheng branch, will take point on all leasing and employment arrangements with Master Song. Other teams only need to coordinate with their assigned paper servant managers for relic cultivation and spirit remnant collection.
As for the identities of the paper servants and the warehouse's actual location, everyone will sign a Xiezhi Spirit Seal confidentiality contract. This ensures the matter and Master Song's involvement remain confidential. We cannot risk someone targeting her for her relics or spirit souls.
Lingcheng and Jiangchengbranches will protect Master Song's known friends and associates. No one is to use them as leverage.
Lingcheng's SEIU team will also be expanded with capable cultivators to maintain security, monitor comings and goings, and ensure the safety of Xiaozhu Mountain…"
Only now did Song Miaozhu fully understand what it meant when The SEIU decided to really protect someone. Compared to the so-called protection she received during the Eternal Life Society incident, this was on a completely different level.
Once the contract was signed, she returned to Xiaozhu Mountain to cut more paper servants.
She certainly wouldn't assign her long-cultivated little paper servants—the ones that were clever, skilled, and capable of remaining hidden for extended periods—to act as warehouse workers for The SEIU.
Their existence might now be public knowledge, but their invisibility was not. She intended to keep that part secret.
Instead, she would send newly crafted paper servants to work. As they gradually absorbed spiritual energy while serving, some would naturally develop the ability to become invisible. Once that happened, she would call them back and replace them with fresh ones that had not yet developed that power.
After all, all the little paper servants looked identical. Without the mental link between her and them, no one could tell them apart. Even if someone used a spiritual mirror to analyze their traits, the mirror would only reflect the baseline version—the awakened paper servant form. It wouldn't expose any hidden functions.
This way, The SEIU would unknowingly help her raise more paper servants with advanced capabilities. After the SEIU completed their inventory, they paid one year of rent and salaries in advance. Song Miaozhu then expanded her ghost shop's warehouse accordingly.
She dispatched the paper servants using her spiritual paper kites, assigning them to SEIU teams across the country.
It was easy money.
The contribution points and renminbi she earned from selling spirit souls and leasing storage were immediately converted to hell coins, which she used to hoard top-grade spirit stones in the underworld.
Only by watching the number of spirit stones increase could she calm her growing anxiety about the late stage of the spiritual tide.
Fortunately, a few days later, the one-month quiet period ended. A new wave of spiritual surges began.
Judging from the current levels of most cultivators, it was unlikely that this wave had been triggered by someone breaking through to the White Spirit stage. It had to be a naturally occurring global surge.
That meant the late stage of the spiritual tide—when natural surges would cease altogether—was still a ways off.
It could be months. Or years. Or even decades.
Every era of cultivation had its own pacing.
At the very least, the early and middle stages of this spiritual tide had been much shorter than those in the previous era.
Back then, a single ordinary surge could last for decades or even centuries. It wasn't something this era could compare to.
But the path of cultivation was harder to decipher in that time as well.
There was no point in dwelling on the progression of the tide. It might continue for years—or end tomorrow. All she could do was focus on cultivation and gathering as many spirit stones as possible.
Once the tide reached its late phase, advancement would become harder and harder.
If no one advanced to higher realms, the surges would stop entirely.
That was why Song Miaozhu doubled down on her research into spirit souls, selling off those she couldn't use and converting them into profit.
This allowed The SEIU to distribute them to cultivators who needed them, helping more people break through.
If more cultivators reached the White Spirit stage, they could trigger even more global surges.
So she entered secluded cultivation once again.
Her little paper servants were no longer a secret, so the one who handled her phone sent Zhao Huoyan a message directly: "The master has entered seclusion. Do not contact unless it is urgent."
Master Song often vanished without a trace, only surfacing when truly needed. Zhao Huoyan had long gotten used to that.
But the fact that she sent a message this time caught him off guard—in a good way.
After all, Master Song was the only known cultivator who practiced alone in the mountains, far from others, and still remained at the very top.
Everyone else had to stay in contact with fellow cultivators in the same field, exchanging knowledge to avoid blind spots in their development.
They also had to stay in populated cities to absorb ambient spiritual energy during surges. The collective effect of a crowd could draw in more energy, maximizing gains.
As netizens joked,
"Master Song is the only true immortal, living above the world. The rest of us are just ordinary folk, trapped in the mundane."
===
Take a deep breath... Hu~~
We are still on the middle of it.