In a village a few li from Yangxin County lived an old man from Cai Dian Village. He and his son ran a roadside inn catering to traveling merchants.

That evening, four cart drivers arrived seeking lodging, but the inn was full, with not a single room available. Seeing how late it was growing, the four drivers insisted on staying. “If there are no guest rooms, the woodshed will do. If not that, the stable, even a floor mat would suffice. Are you afraid we won’t pay?”

The old man, being kind-hearted, thought, No profit gained from money that walks right to the door is a profit missed. After a moment’s hesitation, he said, “There is one room left, but I fear you gentlemen might find it unsuitable.”

The four drivers replied, “Having a place to lay our heads is a blessing; we dare not be picky.”

The old man said, “But there is a corpse in that room.” Before finishing his sentence, he let out a long sigh. “The deceased is my daughter-in-law. Such a young girl, her fortune was too thin; she married my son and before she could enjoy a few good days, she passed away from illness.”

One cart driver, dressed in blue, showed sympathy on his face and advised, “Venerable elder, please accept my condolences.”

The old man nodded and led the four through corridors and passageways to a small tiled room. A single, dim oil lamp flickered inside, casting a weak, uncertain light upon a wooden plank. Upon it lay a woman, perhaps twenty years of age, her face as ashen as gold leaf, her forehead wrapped in gauze. Her breathing had ceased, her limbs were icy cold, and she was covered with a paper quilt—she had clearly been dead for some time.

Though bold, the four drivers could not help but gasp at the sight of the corpse. The blue-clad driver trembled, seeking courage through speech as he asked, “Venerable elder, having been at the inn for so long, how is it we haven’t seen your esteemed son?”

The old man replied, “He went to purchase a coffin for his wife; he won’t be back until tomorrow. Gentlemen, it is late, please retire for the night.” He pointed to a seven-foot-wide wooden bed in the corner. “The space is a bit cramped, but four of you can squeeze together and make do. I shall take my leave now.”

After the old man departed, the four drivers, exhausted from their journey, were too weary even to wash their feet. They stripped off their outer garments and leather boots, leaned back against their pillows, and immediately began snoring loudly.

The blue-clad driver, timid by nature, found sharing a room with a corpse unsettling. His sleep was uneasy. In a hazy semi-consciousness, he thought he heard two distinct kaka sounds from the wooden plank. Startled, he quickly and stealthily opened his eyes to survey the surroundings.

What he saw instantly scattered his soul to the heavens: the room, which had been dimly lit, was now, for some unknown reason, as bright as day. Every table, chair, bed, and low couch was perfectly visible. He watched as the corpse on the plank ceaselessly made the cracking sounds, reached up, threw off the paper quilt, slowly sat upright, placed her feet on the ground, and began walking step by step toward him.

The female corpse arrived at the bedside, bent down, and breathed a puff of air over the mouth and nose of each driver. After three breaths for each man, his three companions fell completely silent; their snoring stopped.

The blue-clad driver broke out in a cold sweat. Seeing the corpse approach him, clearly intending to use the same trick and blow him to death, he immediately held his breath and dared not move.

As expected, the female corpse reached him, blew a breath over his mouth and nose as usual, and then slowly returned to the wooden plank to lie down and continue sleeping.

The blue-clad driver was terrified, not daring to draw a deep breath. He secretly nudged the companion beside him with his foot; there was no reaction from the three. It was highly probable they were stone dead. Overcome by fear, he had only one thought: Escape is paramount! Carefully, he dressed under the covers, tiptoed to the door, and barefoot, bolted out.

The female corpse immediately sensed this and gave chase from behind. The blue-clad driver’s terror amplified, and he ran with reckless abandon, shouting loudly as he fled, hoping to attract attention and rescue. But the village was silent, without the slightest sound or sign of a living soul—save for the spectral shadow behind him.

With no other recourse, the driver galloped toward the county seat. Soon, he reached the eastern outskirts, where a temple stood not far off, its lamps flickering, and the faint, rhythmic sound of a wooden fish occasionally drifting out.

The driver was overjoyed and rushed to the temple gates, crying for help. With a loud zhiya, the main gate opened a narrow sliver, and a Taoist priest poked his head out to peer into the darkness, asking, “Who goes there?”

The driver, gasping for breath, pleaded, “A ghost is trying to kill me! Quickly, open the gate and let me in!”

The priest’s face instantly changed upon hearing the word ‘ghost.’ Trembling, he cried, “My heavens, the ghost is here! Quickly, close the gate!” With a loud bang, the temple door slammed shut, followed by a soft click—the priest was clearly prudent, having not only closed the door but also bolted it.

The driver, infuriated by the priest’s refusal to help, was about to curse when a chilling draft blew across his back, making him shiver involuntarily. He turned to look: the female corpse had trailed him, only a few paces away. Her ten fingernails were sharp as needles, and wisps of black vapor rose from them, looking as though she could attack at any moment.

With his life hanging by a thread, the driver’s mind became exceptionally sharp. He spotted a large poplar tree in front of the temple gate, thick as a water vat—perfect for maneuvering against the ghost. He darted forward in one swift movement, hiding behind the tree. The female corpse let out a strange he-he cry, moving like the wind as she lunged.

Man and ghost circled the tree. The driver was agile; when the corpse turned left, he moved right, and when she turned right, he went left. After a stalemate, both were utterly exhausted, panting heavily.

The female corpse, frustrated by her inability to strike, suddenly extended her arms, wrapping them around the poplar tree. Through the trunk, she managed to grab the driver’s belt. With two sharp chih-chih sounds, the driver’s clothes ripped. His face turned instantly ashen, his legs gave way, and he fainted, collapsing onto the ground.

The female corpse, having exerted too much force, drove her fingernails deep into the wood of the tree. With a couple of strange shrieks, her body froze rigidly like a post—she was dead.

The priest, listening intently inside the temple, waited until silence reigned for a long time before relaxing. He opened the door and stepped out. Touching the driver’s chest, he confirmed his heart was still beating. He muttered to himself, “Not dead; there is still hope.” Saying this, he bent down, lifted the driver onto his back, and carried him inside the temple for treatment.

Back inside, the priest fed the driver some warm soup and massaged him to promote circulation. He worked through the entire night, and as dawn began to break, the driver finally woke up.

The priest instructed the driver, “Benefactor, your body is weak; do not move about carelessly. Rest here at the temple to restore your spirit. I shall go to the county seat to report this to the magistrate.”

When the county magistrate heard of the female ghost’s evil deeds, he came in person to investigate. He saw the rigid, unmoving female corpse beneath the poplar tree and was overcome with curiosity. He immediately ordered seven or eight subordinates forward to forcibly examine the body.

The seven or eight bailiffs gritted their teeth and pulled hard. Working together, it took them considerable effort to wrench the corpse’s hands free from the tree trunk. Upon close inspection, they saw ten distinct indentations in the wood, appearing as if they had been chiseled by iron spikes, revealing chips deep within.

The magistrate clicked his tongue in amazement and ordered men to inquire at the inn. As expected, the corpse of the old man’s daughter-in-law was missing. It was naturally the female ghost before them.

The magistrate patted the driver’s shoulder and chuckled, “Old fellow, capturing the female ghost through wit—well done! I shall reward you with some silver; you may return home now.”

The driver’s face fell. “Your Honor, I set out with three companions; returning alone how am I to face the elders of the village? What if the villagers suspect me of being the murderer?”

The magistrate pondered. “You speak reasonably. Very well, I shall write you a letter to take back; this will prove your innocence.”

The driver was satisfied then. Taking the letter and the silver, he returned home in high spirits.