There was a particularly insightful segment in the report—one that delved into the matter of creative contribution and its correlation with spiritual energy. It explained that while a work can be produced individually, collaboratively, or with the assistance of tools, the extent of the creator's contribution directly affects how much spiritual energy (aura) the piece attracts.
If two identical pieces were made under different methods, the one produced entirely by a single person would attract the most aura. That individual would absorb the highest amount of spiritual energy, as their personal imprint on the creation is the strongest.
In collaborative efforts, the spiritual energy is divided among contributors based on their respective input.
Tools, interestingly, do not draw aura away for themselves, but relying too heavily on them diminishes the artist's own appeal to aura. If tools are overused—so much so that the artist's skill plays a minimal role—the resulting work may fail to attract aura altogether. In extreme cases, not even a trace of aura will respond.
The report gives a vivid example:
Two steamed bun shops. In one, the master makes the dough, prepares the filling, and folds the buns himself. In the other, the master uses factory-made buns and only steams them himself.
Even if the first shop's buns don't taste as good as the second's, the master will still have spiritual energy gathering around him. The second master, however, won't attract even a trace of it.
A similar difference exists between traditional Chinese medicine and Western medicine.
A Chinese doctor who diagnoses and treats illnesses based on personal knowledge and experience attracts far more spiritual energy than a Western doctor who relies on machines for diagnosis.
In short, relying on one's own skill to produce work yields greater spiritual energy gains.
Traditional handicrafts happen to excel in this regard. Thus, those currently leading in spiritual energy absorption are mostly masters of traditional crafts and their apprentices.
The older masters, due to physical limitations, take longer to integrate spiritual energy into their bodies, so their overall progress is often slower than their disciples'—provided, of course, that the disciple's skill is already refined, even if not yet at the level of mastery.
For example, Mr. Feng Ru, director of the Beijing SEIU, is a master calligrapher and an expert in ancient text restoration. After retiring from the National Museum, he focused solely on calligraphy.
His youngest son, Feng Jinwen, learned calligraphy from him since childhood and is now a skilled practitioner in his own right. Though Feng Jinwen's calligraphy isn't yet on par with his father's, his youth and better physical condition allowed him to open his spiritual platform and condense his own spiritual power before his father did.
Beyond the relationship between contribution and spiritual energy attraction, the report also lists precautions for absorbing spiritual energy:
—If your skill isn't refined, avoid staying too close to others who are absorbing spiritual energy—it will naturally flow toward the more skilled practitioner. Both parties' efficiency may suffer.
—Observations show that once a cluster of spiritual energy particles (lingqi light points) is fully absorbed, it takes over half a month for new ones to regenerate in the same spot (excluding those drifting in from elsewhere). Thus, it's recommended to periodically change locations for absorption.
—Local SEIU teams will assist in coordinating these location changes.
After reading the reports, Song Miaozhu felt she had gained a lot. The official investigations were far more detailed than hers.
Within the SEIU's mobile app, beyond the aura data, she also found discussion forums, internal missions, and a rewards and contributions section.
Remembering Zhao Huoyan's comment about being able to exchange contribution points for master-level courses, she immediately tapped into the rewards section.
She skipped over options like converting points to cash, gold bars, or housing in premium school districts—none of those interested her.
What she did want was training. And sure enough, she found an impressive catalog of master-led courses—everything from affordable video tutorials to expensive offline classes, large group sessions to one-on-one mentorship.
To her surprise, there were even masterclasses for paper offering crafting!
One was taught by Master Geng Qiushan from Guangcheng, a renowned figure in traditional paper crafting. The other was by Master Zhang Yunxi from Xiangcheng, known for his colorful ceremonial effigies.
Their pricing structures were nearly identical:
—Basic video lessons: 1 contribution point per class.
—Advanced lessons: 10 points per session.
And these video courses were free for internal personnel. Only the private, one-on-one offline mentorships required payment—even insiders had to contribute 80% of the point cost.
The course catalog was still expanding.
Song Miaozhu hadn't received her contribution points yet, so for now, she was just browsing. Once her account was credited, she planned to redeem a few lessons to study the techniques of other paper art masters.
Though The Secret Art of Paper Crafting was comprehensive and historically significant, other masters might have unique insights. Even if their methods weren't spiritual paper craft, their craftsmanship could still offer valuable lessons.
Beyond paper craft, she was also interested in painting, calligraphy, and bamboo weaving—not necessarily to absorb spiritual energy, but because she believed they could enhance her paper effigy skills.
After browsing the extensive course list, she regretted not bargaining for more contribution points when sharing her intel.
"Wait—Team Leader Zhao, do I get contribution points for lending out my collection of underworld ancient texts?" she asked.
Zhao Huoyan, who was explaining the app to Old Master Zhao and Zhao Mumu, replied:
"Yes, it does! Once the contents are submitted, they'll be evaluated, and the corresponding points will be credited to your account," Zhao Huoyan replied.
He had assumed that Song Miaozhu, with her cautious demeanor and apparent lack of material desire, would be difficult to win over—especially given the higher-ups' directive to better understand and draw her in. But now that she was interested in contribution points, there might be an opening.
"If you ever decide to officially join the SEIU," Zhao added, "many of these benefits will become free. Even the ones that still require points will be heavily discounted. Would you reconsider?"
"No need for now," she said casually.
The masterclasses had reminded her: "Where better to find masters than the underworld?"
If she ran short on contribution points, she could just spend hell coins to learn from ghost masters. Their skills might no longer improve after death, but their existing expertise remained intact.
Why waste time and effort when she could solve problems with money?
The SEIU's benefits were tempting, but they surely came with obligations. She couldn't even access the internal mission system as an external associate. She had no interest in being summoned away from her peaceful cultivation to complete tasks.
Case in point: Before even finishing his onboarding, Old Master Zhao had already been assigned his first mission.
"Master Zhao," Zhao Huoyan said, "as the only member of our Lingcheng team who can see spirits, once Song Miaozhu returns from her business in Lingcheng, we'll need your help examining her ancient texts. I'll accompany you to record and transcribe the contents. A corresponding exclusive task will be posted in the app, and you'll receive rewards upon completion."
"Deal!" Old Master Zhao didn't mind. He was curious about Song Miaozhu's underworld texts anyway.