It wasn't just Master Geng. The spirit merchant profile for Master Zhang of Xiangcheng said the same thing. She also crafted fourth-grade paper clothes exclusively for the SEIU.
Ever since the SEIU opened up the spirit merchant window in the contribution point shop, they had been doing flash sale lotteries every few days, offering one piece of paper clothing each time. This time, the item featured in the event was a creation by Master Geng from Guangcheng.
Song Miaozhu browsed the flash sale interface and found the redemption page for the SEIU's fourth-grade paper clothes. A traditional Chinese-style button-up jacket was listed for just thirty thousand hell coins.
Given how complex the design was, if it had been a fourth-grade paper garment crafted by her, it would've cost at least three hundred thousand hell coins. That was one-tenth the price—far more absurd than the usual underpricing of other paper crafts.
Song Miaozhu clicked on the image of the paper clothing. "This is supposed to be fourth-grade?"
While the garment did look like real cloth, she still felt something was off. No matter how she looked at it, it didn't quite match the quality of her own fourth-grade paper garments. The photo showed the garment hanging on a rack, and by the size, it appeared to be made for human proportions.
There was even a sizing chart in the purchase options, as if it were intended for human use, not ghosts. Most telling of all, the garment gave off a spiritual glow.
It was a Yin Paper Cloth, meant for ghosts—how could it be glowing with spirit light? Was this even usable in the underworld?
Spirit-based and Yin-based paper crafts had a hard boundary between them. One was for the living world, the other for the dead. Some Yin paper crafts could function briefly at night in the living world, but spirit-infused crafts almost never worked in the underworld.
Song Miaozhu, puzzled, scrolled down to the product details. "Shelf life: ten years?"
That confirmed it for her. The SEIU's so-called fourth-grade paper clothes were nothing like the ones she made.
Her fourth-grade Yin Paper Clothes automatically adjusted to a ghost's form, had no shelf life, and could be worn indefinitely unless physically damaged. It took a significant external force to even scratch them, and they offered far better protection than third-grade garments.
The realistic cloth-like appearance was just one of their many features.
By contrast, the Spirit Bureau's version seemed to offer only that single feature.
The size was fixed, and only one ghost could bond with it using ghostly energy. If any other ghost's energy came into contact with it for too long, it would start to degrade. Even if it remained undamaged, the shelf life was limited to ten years. Repeated exposure to other ghost energies would shorten its lifespan drastically. As for protection, it only matched that of an average third-grade garment.
Overall, it was nothing more than a third-grade paper outfit that happened to feel like cloth. In terms of durability, it didn't even hold up to her own third-grade Yin Paper Clothes. Looking more closely at the picture, she noticed the glow sat on the surface of the garment, unlike properly awakened paper garments whose glow remained hidden until their defensive properties were triggered.
Something about this felt very familiar.
After thinking for a moment, she realized, "Isn't this what it looked like before I learned to channel qi into the paper crafts? Just raw spiritual energy entering the paper?"
The so-called "fourth-grade paper clothes" sold by the SEIU probably hadn't been awakened at all. Someone had just poured spiritual energy into a finished third-grade product. Back in the previous cultivation era, this method never worked. Without the proper awakening process, the paper could never take on the qualities of real cloth. But now, spiritual energy no longer had Five Element attributes and instead boosted the craftsmanship of the item itself.
Song Miaozhu had long since noticed that her spirit-awakened paper crafts showed far more vitality than those described in the Secret Art of Paper Crafting.
Testing her theory was easy. She made a simple paper garment and didn't awaken it—just infused it with spiritual energy. At first, nothing happened. Then she remembered the common principle behind all Yin Paper awakening methods: use the awakening to communicate with spiritual energy and instill the paper with spirit.
The cloth-like texture was one aspect of that vitality.
The awakening process required not only certain techniques but also a clear intention. The clearer her goal, the more effectively she could guide the energy. So, while infusing the paper with spiritual energy, she sharpened her intention and guided the flow directly toward the transformation.
Once enough spiritual energy was absorbed, the paper slowly began to take on the texture of real fabric.
This was a very different process from proper awakening.
When she performed an actual awakening, it was like molding a lump of clay in her hands. She might not be the most skilled sculptor, but the awakening techniques gave her a set of excellent molds. She simply had to press the spiritual energy into them to achieve the desired effect.
Awakening acted like a form to shape the spirit energy, making it much easier to direct and control. But when she simply poured energy in, it was like trying to herd wild horses. No matter how she shouted, only a few responded. Most of the spiritual energy scattered aimlessly. Only a small portion followed her intentions and granted the paper the qualities she desired.
Even with deliberate guidance, much of it went to waste. That was why it took so much more energy to simply give the garment a fabric-like texture. And if just one attribute was already this difficult, then adding a second one would be nearly impossible.
"No wonder Master Geng and Master Zhang's "fourth-grade" creations only differed from third-grade ones in texture. They couldn't match the quality of my fourth-grade paper clothes, which explained the enormous price gap."
After all, the SEIU clearly wasn't aiming to make a profit. They were trying to win over ghost loyalty. As the owner of a Heaven-rank ghost shop, Song Miaozhu could use hell coins and, like a ghost, convert the lifespan within them into Yin energy.
Other living people couldn't do that. To them, hell coins were as useless as regular currency is to the dead. They couldn't even store hell coins while alive. Looking at it now, these counterfeit fourth-grade clothes from the SEIU might be good for rallying ghost support, but they posed no threat to her business.
Most ghosts waited decades or even centuries for reincarnation. A ten-year shelf life was far too short. The only advantage was the low price, or else it wouldn't even be competitive.
However, the move might put pressure on smaller shops selling first to third-grade garments. In short, the SEIU's move caused zero harm to her but was a devastating blow to other underworld shops. And this was just the beginning. If it went on much longer, resentment would build quickly.
Given how seriously the underworld treated disruptions to the balance between Yin and Yang, one report would be enough to trigger a crackdown.
The underworld had divine tools like the Book of Life and Death—nothing could escape their scrutiny. Song Miaozhu silently lit a candle in her heart for the poor soul who proposed this plan to the SEIU.
Seeing that Zhao Mumu and Chen Shuanghe still looked worried about her, Song Miaozhu shook her phone and said,
"This won't affect me at all. If anything, you two should be more worried about what's going on inside the SEIU."