After Boss Wu and his group left, the first batch of purchased items arrived ahead of schedule.
Song Miaozhu carefully unpacked and inspected the goods before signing for them. Once the courier was gone, she locked up the shop and stored everything in the ghost shop's warehouse.
When night fell, she crossed over to the underworld. Aside from Sister Xiang Yun's audio equipment and its corresponding power generator—which required an in-person setup at Fragrant Cloud Pavilion—she coordinated pickup times for the rest of the orders through the GhostLink app.
The ghostly customers began arriving within half an hour of receiving the notifications.
The first to show up was the skateboard ghost, now riding a different board. He screeched to a stop at the entrance and gaped at the shelves. "Whoa! This little shop's turned into a full-blown supermarket!"
Without wasting time browsing, he hurried over to Song Miaozhu. "Boss, where's my phone and skateboard?"
She retrieved his items from the back. "Here you go!"
His phone had been ready for days, but per his request, she'd spent extra time downloading popular songs and anime. Since she didn't have the patience to handle it herself, she'd paid a phone store clerk a few hundred yuan to do it—a cost she'd factored into the final bill. The skateboard had only just arrived, so she'd waited to notify him until everything was ready.
The skateboard ghost clutched his treasures gleefully, tossing her six second-tier ingots and nine first-tier ones—totaling 69,000 hell coins—before immediately scrolling through his phone.
"Damn, the latest model's already out? Back when I was alive, they'd only just released the 15th edition!" he muttered, eyes glued to the screen. "And all these songs—perfect! Even the anime picks are spot-on. Boss, you're amazing!"
"As long as you're satisfied." Song Miaozhu smiled. "If your phone runs out of power, we offer power bank rentals. You can stop by any time."
This was a new service she'd added, specifically for ghost customers who'd purchased expensive electronics. The rental fees were cheap—more of a benefit than a business.
"Give me one! No, make it three!" the skateboard ghost declared. "I'm gonna binge all night!"
No more worrying about staying up late and dropping dead—now that he was a ghost, sleep was optional.
Song Miaozhu handed him three chargers. As he left, satisfied, she pocketed the remaining payment with equal satisfaction. Since the ingots were minted in her shop, they wouldn't degrade in spiritual value and could be stored safely in her vault.
The rest of the evening passed in a steady stream of ghostly customers picking up their orders. Gradually, she delegated the task to her two employees. With new shipments arriving daily, they could handle the handovers—Xu Jingsi was already adept at explaining the products, and Mao Jinxia was improving fast.
With everything in order, Song Miaozhu finally set out toward Chunyi Alley.
It branched off from Yinshui Alley to the right. After passing about ten storefronts from the alley's entrance, a side street led directly there.
Standing at the turn, the way ahead was shrouded in thick gray mist. But once she stepped inside, in the blink of an eye, she found herself in Chunyi Alley.
At first glance, its street looked narrower than Yinshui Alley—at least half the width. But upon closer inspection, the dimensions were the same. It was just that the businesses here had a different approach to grabbing attention.
While Yinshui Alley mostly featured traditional shops selling incense, paper offerings, and ceremonial goods, Chunyi Alley was something else. Yinshui's vendors—mostly veteran artisans of the funeral trade—used colorful neon signs to draw in ghostly customers, focusing on practical needs for underworld living.
Previously, Miaozhu had thought those signs were over the top. But now, after seeing Chunyi Alley, she found Yinshui's storefronts rather quaint and old-school by comparison.
The competition in Chunyi Alley was fiercer. Every inch of storefront space was maximized—either turned into thematic displays or stages where employees showcased talents to lure customers. That's what made the street feel so much narrower.
Fragrant Cloud Pavilion was at No. 521.
Miaozhu had entered near No. 1400—specifically between 1400 and 1401—so she still had a long way to the far end of the lane.
As she walked, she passed music halls, painting studios, theaters, poetry battle towers, chess houses, libraries, storytelling teahouses, and gambling dens. Most were entertainment venues with a decidedly ancient flair.
It made sense. Chunyi Alley, located right beside Yinshui Alley, had emerged not long after and had a long-standing history. The shopkeepers who'd succeeded here often lived far more comfortably in the underworld than they ever had in life. Many had long since lost interest in reincarnation. Most of these veteran vendors were ancient ghosts themselves.
More modern businesses were probably clustered in the lower-ranked, newer alleys. Despite the vintage aesthetics, the ghosts wandering the lane came from every era imaginable.
About halfway down the street, Miaozhu saw, for the first time, an archway for returning to ghost residences. It floated high above the road, glowing faintly. A mist swirled beneath its gate. From time to time, a ghost would emerge out of thin air—or vanish into it.
Soon after passing the arch, a zither's haunting melody reached her ears. The sound quality was terrible—clearly coming from a cheap carpet speaker—but the piece itself was beautifully played. Without such skillful performance, it might've been unbearable.
But it worked. In a street bursting with visual spectacle, the sheer volume alone made this store stand out.
Fragrant Cloud Pavilion stood at No. 521. It was a charming three-story building with a refined exterior. A female ghost stood at the door, playing the zither through her loudspeaker to draw customers in. Business was booming.
Thinking of Sister Xiang Yun's frequent rants about the bar with an "unspeakable name," Miaozhu couldn't help but look across the street.
No. 1520: The Peony Club – Exotic Dance & Spirits
A strip club? Ah. Now she understood Sister Xiang Yun's frustration. Ancient ghost ladies probably couldn't handle a name that bold.
And in a place like Chunyi Alley, where aesthetic and elegance were valued, a strip club stood out as much as Anshou Hall, the shop in Yinshui Alley that sold items from the mortal realm.
At least Anshou Hall didn't directly conflict with its neighbors. But this bar? Its presence clashed head-on with the rest of Chunyi Alley.
In the underworld, currency equaled lifespan. To steal business was to steal one's ghostly lifespan. Sister Xiang Yun's competitive grudge was only natural.
That said, the strip club didn't seem to have any staff outside hustling. It relied entirely on its suggestive name and a pair of stylish silhouette signs—one male, one female—above the door.
Thanks to her booming speaker, Sister Xiang Yun's pavilion still drew plenty of business.
Just as Miaozhu was about to head toward Fragrant Cloud Pavilion, a group of ghosts stepped out of the bar.