258 Paperwork

I buried my face in the mound of papers stacked before me and groaned. “I swear, this is the real tribulation. Forget heavenly lightning, it’s paperwork that kills cultivators. Look at this… I’m drowning, Alice! I didn’t sign up to be an emperor, or whatever this is supposed to be.” I signed one more scroll with a furious stroke and slapped it aside. “I could make a woman out of just anyone with just my magic fingers, and yet here I am scribbling numbers and stamping seals.”

Alice didn’t even look up from her tea, but her foot shot out like a whip and cracked my shin. I nearly toppled out of my chair. “Ow! What was that for?!”

“For saying nonsense,” she replied coolly, sipping with absolute serenity while I rubbed the offended leg.

I muttered under my breath but turned back to the stack. Another request, another seal. My pen halted when I reached the cultivation curriculum documents. “Oh, at least this one makes sense. Request for more resources… approved! If we have more cultivators, the more effective the labor, the less need for mortal food, and then we can focus on acquiring cultivation resources. Though—” I frowned. “Doesn’t that just repeat the cycle of needing more stuff? More cultivators, more resources, more needs, and round and round we go.”

The thought made me slump into my chair like a deflated sack. I dragged my hand down my face until my lips were stretched into a grotesque pout. “I can’t take this anymore!” I shouted, throwing my brush aside. “I’d rather chop down trees, haul stones, bash someone’s head, or literally anything that isn’t this!”

Alice didn’t flinch. Instead, she set her cup down with infuriating calm and answered, “If you step outside, you’ll put a target on the back of our nascent nation. That’s what you’d rather risk? Drawing predators when we’ve barely learned to crawl?”

I jabbed a finger at the air, half-crazed with frustration. “Then I’ll wear a mask! Hide my face, no one will know it’s me.”

That finally made her pause. She tilted her head, eyes narrowing in quiet thought. The corner of her lips twitched, not quite a smile, not quite disapproval. She was considering it.

I leaned forward, heart racing like I’d just found a loophole in the heavens themselves. Had I actually succeeded in convincing her?

Alice set her cup down with a faint clink and studied me with that irritatingly calm expression of hers. “A breath of fresh air for you might actually prove useful,” she said at last. “We’re due to visit a couple of the major sects soon. Having you there in person, with your… personal touch, could benefit us all.”

My chair screeched back as I leapt to my feet, hands in the air like I’d just broken through a bottleneck. “Yes! Finally, salvation! I’m free!” I shouted, almost giddy. I probably looked like a deranged mortal who’d just gotten out of prison.

Yet even as I celebrated, a spark of genius struck me so hard I froze mid-gesture. Wait. Why did I only think of this now? The answer came just as quickly, because only now had my Ghost Soul recovered its sapience. Until today, that fragment of me had been little more than a husk, slumbering in some dim recess of my being. I had entrusted the others long ago: the Hell Soul to Ye Yong, the Asura Soul to Ding Shan, and the remaining three divided among Nongmin, Liu Yana, and Tao Long. All pieces of me, scattered but accounted for. But this one… this one was mine to reclaim.

My lips curled in a grin. If the Ghost Soul was awake, then maybe… just maybe… I had found my escape from this suffocating mountain of scrolls and seals. I pressed my hands together, my mind reaching for that familiar tether. The command rolled off my tongue with a pulse of holy light.

“Summon: Holy Spirit.”

The room trembled faintly, air rippling like water disturbed by a stone. From the glow stepped out a child, my child-self, to be precise, dressed in black and green robes, hair tousled like he had just crawled out of bed. He let out an exaggerated yawn, rubbed his eyes, and looked up at me with half-lidded disdain.

“The fuck you want?” he asked flatly.

Alice tilted her head as the summoned child stared about the office, yawning like he owned the place. “Interesting,” she commented, her tone caught between amusement and calculation.

Mini-me shuffled toward her, his little green-and-black robes dragging faintly over the floor. Without hesitation, he jabbed a small finger at her chair and declared, “That’s my spot.”

Alice turned her crimson eyes toward me, not even blinking. “You have six souls,” she remarked calmly. “And I believe this is your sixth one. Don’t you find it strange that you can still exist, even with this one pulled out of you?”

I scratched my head, frowning at the thought. “I don’t know. Probably has something to do with me not being human or something.”

“That’s my spot,” mini-me repeated, insistently this time, as if the words alone carried divine law.

Alice spat back without patience, “There are so many chairs. Go find yourself a spot.”

Instead of obeying, the little brat plopped down squarely on her lap and leaned back smugly like a king who had claimed his throne. My jaw dropped. “Hey, ghostie, that’s not your spot.” I dragged my chair in front of the towering mountain of paperwork, jabbing my finger at the piles of scrolls and requests. “This is your spot. Right here. Enjoy.”

The little bastard didn’t even move. He just stared at me, his expression unreadable and maddeningly calm.

I felt my teeth grind together as I sat back down. I’m feeling a tad jealous, just a tad, I told myself, but the truth was glaring. That little shit didn’t even hesitate to steal Alice’s lap like it was some divine right. And she wasn’t pushing him off either. I was the one stuck with ink-stained hands, scratching signatures across endless documents, while ghost-me got treated like some treasured child. Did my ghost just ghost me?

A knock interrupted my silent seething. “It’s Ding Shan,” came the voice from outside. “Reporting in.”

“Come in,” I called, trying to hide my irritation.

The door creaked open, and Ding Shan stepped inside, his sharp eyes immediately locking onto mini-me sitting snugly on Alice’s lap. His stride faltered, and he froze mid-step, clearly at a loss for words as he stared at the uncanny little version of me. His lips twitched, and for a moment, I thought he might start laughing. Instead, he straightened his back and tried for dignity.

“You know,” I said, waving a brush at him, “you could’ve just reported through my Asura Soul. I left it with you for a reason.”

Ding Shan pressed a fist to his chest and gave me a small bow. “I’m getting used to it, but… It’s overwhelming. The strength. Sometimes it feels like I’ll drown in it.”

Ah, right. I leaned back in my chair, eying him carefully. Right now, Ding Shan’s entire being was suffused with the power of my Asura Soul. I could feel it through our faint link, that wild, simmering storm of slaughter. By all accounts, he was wielding power close to the eighth or ninth realm… an absurd leap for someone who not long ago struggled to even keep pace with the others.

He shifted uncomfortably before blurting out, “Congratulations, my lord, on your son.” His gaze darted between me, Alice, and the little ghost still curled on her lap.

I almost choked. “That’s not my son,” I said flatly. “Though… yeah, he did come out of me.”

The confusion on Ding Shan’s face deepened. He glanced again at Alice, then at the little ghost, then back at me like he was trying to solve some puzzle that refused to give him answers. Finally, he faked a cough and lowered his head. “Ahem. In any case, I’ve come to report. We recovered several treasures from the raids, and… we turned the bandits on the nearest nations for a small sum.”

My brush paused mid-signature. In truth, we could’ve squeezed more profit if we’d dragged those bandits back and cashed them in for their bounties. But that meant more bureaucracy, paperwork, and the sort of trouble I hated. Too much work for not enough gain. Let the neighbors deal with the headache.

“Good work,” I said, flicking the brush aside and waving him on. “Continue hunting down bandits. We could use more Spirit Stones. But leave a few Guardians behind. Have them hunt wild beasts, log for wood, haul stones… whatever’s needed. We should start prepping a group of able-bodied cultivators, first realm or second realm, to replace the Guardians in those menial tasks. No point wasting high-end power on grunt work.”

Ding Shan bowed, but I caught the flicker of his gaze at ghost-me again before he turned to leave.

I leaned back against the chair and waved a hand. “You’re free to go, Commander Shan.”

He hesitated, standing stiffly as if his boots had grown roots. “I… have something more to say.”

I sighed, setting aside the brush that was already dripping ink over a corner of my paperwork. “Spit it out.”

He coughed into his fist, eyes darting briefly to Alice and the little ghost still perched smugly on her lap. “Not long ago, some cultivators from different factions approached me and the Guardians. They tried persuading us to join their factions. What are our policies against such… blatant poaching?”

I tilted my head, my chest tightening. “Wait… as if you’d leave me, right?” My voice carried more worry than I cared to admit.

Ding Shan chuckled nervously, shaking his head quickly. “Oh, no, my lord, we wouldn’t dare. But…” He rubbed the back of his neck. “…the Guardians might’ve been a little over-enthusiastic in teaching them a lesson.”

My frown deepened. “Elaborate. You didn’t kill anyone, did you?”

He winced and lowered his voice. “We might’ve humiliated some of them a bit too much. And… some of them may be of high status, in rather important positions, so—”

Ah. My stomach dropped. No wonder lately, some of the diplomats who knocked on our doors carried such sour expressions, their smiles strained to breaking. I thought it was because of me or Alice breathing the same air as them. But no… it was my damn Guardians, flexing where they shouldn’t.

I rubbed my temples. “It’s fine as long as no one dies. If asked, I want the Guardians to deny anything about the attempted poaching, and absolutely nothing about so-called cultivators claiming this faction or that. Instead, they must all say the same thing—‘bandits’ who unfortunately got away.”

Ding Shan raised an eyebrow. “Will there be punishment?”

“Of course,” I muttered, glaring at the mountain of parchment in front of me. “Prepare a list for me. Whoever got too enthusiastic, I’ll punish them personally.”

His face flickered between dread and relief before he bowed deeply. I waved him off, and at last, Ding Shan turned and left, the door shutting quietly behind him.