In order to pay off the huge debt of millions left by his grandfather, Xiao Banxia was forced to inherit the gloomy paper-making shop.
I thought I would spend the rest of my life clinging to my old paper, but on the day when the debt collector came to my door, I accidentally woke up a room full of paper figures with a drop of blood.
There are literary scholars writing fortune-telling fortune-telling, military generals wearing armor to suppress ghosts, and charming ladies and sisters who can rub their backs and shoulders, and tear up a kid for snacks.
From then on, Xiao Banxia used the compass in his left hand and the scissors in his right hand, and he resumed his ancestral career in the reinforced concrete of the city.
"Boss, I see your hair is darkening. Do you always feel a chill on your neck recently?"
"Don't be afraid, it's not cervical spondylosis, it's your deceased rival lying on your back to blow you air-conditioning."
"What? Xunlong dianxue, one order worth ten million?"
Xiao Banxia's eyes lit up, and he patted the two-meter-high paper-bound general next to him: "It's coming, bring my Italian cannon... Ah no, bring my Bagua Mirror!"
Others relied on Feng Shui metaphysics to help the world and save people, but she, Xiao Banxia, relied on Feng Shui metaphysics to make a fortune.
However, when she thought she was about to reach the pinnacle of her life, she realized that awakening the paper man's blood was not that simple.
Ancient curses, dusty secrets, when a greater crisis quietly comes, can she still protect her life and... Wallet?
