"I was planning to dye it, just didn't get around to it yet!" the old man said sheepishly.
"Miaozhu, is this also the effect of spiritual energy?" Zhao Mumu gaped. "If this keeps up, will Master actually grow younger?"
"What spiritual energy? What rejuvenation?" Grandpa Zhao touched his hair. "Isn't this just some ghostly illusion?"
For someone so grounded, the old man certainly had an active imagination. Suppressing a laugh, Song Miaozhu explained gently:
"Spiritual energy has returned to the world. When you carve, it gathers around you, and some gets absorbed into your body. That's why you've changed—seeing ghosts and your hair turning black are both results of this."
She gestured to herself. "I attract spiritual energy through papercraft, which is why my Heavenly Eye is fully open. If you keep absorbing energy, you'll eventually develop the same ability."
The old man looked utterly baffled. "Spiritual energy resurgence? What does that even mean?"
"I know this one!" Zhao Mumu piped up. "Master, let me recommend a book. It'll explain everything." She pulled out her phone and quickly found a popular web novel.
"Hellcoin Billionaire: My Ghost Shop Fuels My Cultivation'? That's a real book?" he asked, squinting at the screen with a look of disbelief.
"Of course it is! Don't be fooled by the title. It's about how the world has changed—the return of spiritual energy, and people with talent can cultivate and become immortals again!" Zhao Mumu said earnestly.
"Cultivating to immortality? Through woodcarving?" Grandpa Zhao scoffed. "Even after seeing ghosts, I can't swallow this nonsense! Sun Wukong had to endure eighty-one trials just to become a Buddha!"
"Grandpa Zhao," Song Miaozhu interjected, "you were close with my grandfather. Surely you've heard our family has… certain unique traits?"
"If even Auntie Chen knew, he certainly did."
The old man nodded slowly. "Your grandpa mentioned your family's women never marry out, and that they gain spirit-seeing abilities when the time comes. But I always thought he'd read too many Journey to the West comics. Unless…"
"He wasn't wrong. I learned about the spiritual resurgence from the underworld. Many ghosts rushed to reincarnate because of it."
Song Miaozhu glanced at Li Sufang's empty grave. "Shimu might've done the same—she hadn't been dead long by ghost standards. Right now, no one knows the true cultivation methods. That we've accidentally found ways to absorb energy is lucky. The more we store now, the better prepared we'll be when spiritual energy's influence grows."
"You're right, Huaishui'er!" Grandpa Zhao's eyes misted. "Sufang adored The Heavenly Match opera—watched it hundreds of times, never tired of those fairy maidens. She didn't even wait for me! Just left to chase immortality!" His voice cracked. "I need to confirm she's really gone!"
"I'll go with you," Song Miaozhu offered. "I can see more clearly."
"I'll drive!" Zhao Mumu said, her curiosity fully piqued.
Zhao Mumu drove the three of them to the cemetery.
Before Li Sufang's grave, Miaozhu took one glance and confirmed, "She's reincarnated. Not long ago either—there's still lingering yin energy."
It was the same with her own family's graves.
The old man's eyes reddened. "Sufang… couldn't you have waited a few more days? I was so close to seeing you again..."
"Master, take care of your health," Zhao Mumei soothed. "Who knows? You might meet Shimu again someday."
The old man nodded stiffly, then turned to Song Miaozhu. "If you can see these things… your grandparents, they…?"
"Gone to rebirth too. Our family graves are empty."
The words tasted bitter. Like Grandpa Zhao, she'd missed her final chance to see them. Maybe they left early so she wouldn't grow more attached—so she wouldn't be tempted to follow them into the afterlife.
After a heavy silence, Grandpa Zhao thrust his phone at Zhao Mumu.
"That book you mentioned earlier—download it properly. I'll study it thoroughly! Can't have me dying of old age before catching up to them."
Song Miaozhu didn't mention that reincarnation meant becoming someone entirely new. Let him keep this hope—it would fuel his cultivation.
But she warned, "Don't trust web novels for cultivation methods! They're mostly based on legends from the last spiritual era. Each resurgence follows different rules—we have to discover ours through practice. For now, just keep carving!"
"If woodworking counts as cultivation, then I'm already an expert!" Grandpa Zhao declared.
"Miaozhu," Zhao Mumu begged, "check if I'm absorbing any energy too?"
"Of course!"
Song Miaozhu also wondered—was this universal? Could anyone attract spiritual energy through craftsmanship? If so, this era might see countless cultivators.
Zhao Mumu, itching to test her fate, drove a bit faster on the way back. Once they returned to the woodworking shop, she grabbed a small piece of wood and began carving immediately. The old man resumed work on the signboard for Miaozhu's paper craft shop.
"Well? Anything yet?" Zhao Mumu asked, carving intently.
Grandpa Zhao paused to listen.
Song Miaozhu looked back and forth between them, unsure how to break the news.
The old man had only made a few cuts into a golden ingot design, but already the spiritual energy light had started drifting toward him.
Meanwhile, Zhao Mumu—seriously carving a small figurine—hadn't drawn in a single mote of energy.
Just as the old man paused to listen to Miaozhu, one hesitant dot of energy drifted toward Zhao Mumu… but hovered undecided. It wouldn't enter her carving, nor her body.
"Miaozhu, what's with that face? Don't tell me it's nothing?" Zhao Mumu asked just as the energy mote flitted away.
"One spark of spiritual energy did come your way," Miaozhu said truthfully. "But the moment you lost focus, it drifted off.
She chose her next words carefully. "If you practice seriously, you can attract them. In time, you might even absorb spiritual energy."
Originally, she thought maintaining a focused state was key to drawing in energy. She used to lose her own connection when distracted, just like Zhao Mumu. But after observing Grandpa Zhao, she realized that a brief pause wasn't necessarily fatal.
The only difference, it seemed, was skill.
If your craft was honed and refined enough, even a short break wouldn't interrupt the energy's attraction.
"Really?!" Zhao Mumei lit up. "So I can become an immortal?!"