On a certain day, in a certain county, there lived a scholar named Tan Jinxuan, who was obsessed with Taoism, revering the arts of breathing, exhalation, inhalation, and vital energy guidance. He practiced day and night, without respite through the cold and the heat, and after several months of effort, it seemed he had achieved something.

That very day, Tan Jinxuan sat cross-legged on his bed, eyes closed, resting his spirit. Faintly, he heard a voice speaking in his ear, its sound as minute as the buzzing of a fly, seemingly murmuring, "May I manifest now?" The scholar started, opening his eyes, and the sound immediately vanished. The moment he closed his eyes again, settling his breath and centering his spirit, the voice reappeared. He could not help but rejoice secretly, thinking, "It seems my divine skill is perfected, and my inner elixir has been formed."

From then on, every time the scholar closed his eyes for meditation, he could hear the voice within his ear. He mused, "Talking to oneself is so dull. Next time I hear the sound, I shall try replying a couple of sentences. I might as well lure it out and see its true form."

Sure enough, shortly thereafter, the voice in his ear began speaking again, "May I come out?" Without a moment's hesitation, the scholar whispered softly, "You may come out." Before the words had fully left his lips, he felt a constant rustling within his ear—a sensation both itchy and numb, as if something was crawling out.

He dared to peek with a slightly opened eye and saw a tiny man, no more than three inches tall, standing on the floor. His face was ferocious, like that of a night-yaksha, as he paced in a continuous circle.

The scholar was inwardly astonished and dared not make any sudden movements. He held his breath, concentrated his spirit, and resolved to watch the unfolding situation calmly. Just then, loud shouts erupted from the courtyard; a neighbor had come to borrow something, knocking on the door with a resounding dong, dong, audible to all around.

The little man was timid. Hearing the noise, he became utterly panicked, darting erratically around the room, his demeanor frantic, much like a mouse desperately searching for a hole and finding no escape. Seeing this, Scholar Tan was terribly startled, his soul unsettled. He lowered his head, searching for where the little man had gone, but it had vanished without a trace. Fear gripped him even tighter, and from that moment, he was afflicted with the madness of epilepsy, crying out ceaselessly day and night. His family summoned doctors and administered medicine, and it took half a year before he gradually began to recover.