The summer heat was suffocating, an unbearable oppressive blanket. As an old man dozed in bed during his afternoon nap, a faint image began to form in his hazy dream: a woman, perhaps around thirty, entered, pushing aside the curtain. Her head was wrapped in white cloth, her face swollen and yellow, and she wore a coarse linen skirt and white mourning attire. Her brows were tightly drawn, giving her a truly frightful appearance.

The woman crept silently, padding into the inner room—the chamber where the old man’s wife slept. He mused, "Perhaps it's a neighbor woman stopping by for a visit; trivial matters between women, best not to concern myself." Then, a second thought struck him with unease, "If she's visiting, why is she dressed in mourning clothes? Strange, very strange!"

While still perplexed, the woman emerged again, pacing around the bedroom, slowly approaching the side of the bed. The old man felt a mounting suspicion and decided to feign deep sleep to see what the woman intended.

Before long, the woman hitched up her skirt, climbed onto the bed, and leaned over, pressing down heavily onto the old man's lower abdomen. Her mouth and nose moved rhythmically as she sniffed all over his face—from his forehead to his eyebrows, then his eyes, nose, and mouth—missing not a single inch.

The old man was paralyzed with terror, feeling the woman’s body weigh a thousand jin, pinning him down so that he could neither move his hands nor shift his feet. Yet, his mind remained perfectly lucid, his sense of touch acutely heightened, allowing him to perceive every single movement of the woman with absolute clarity. He reasoned, "This woman’s mouth is cold as ice, her breath chilling as snow; she is most certainly a wandering spirit."

He watched as the woman trailed downwards, sniffing near his lips. The icy skin of her face was mere inches from his mouth and teeth. A sudden flash of inspiration struck him. With a surge of strength, he violently opened his mouth and clamped down, sinking his teeth deep into the woman’s cheek, the force penetrating to the very tips of his molars.

The woman thrashed violently in pain, letting out a piercing shriek that instantly alerted the old man’s wife. When the madam rushed into the room to check, the old man was overjoyed and shouted, "A ghost! There is a ghost!" The moment he spoke, his teeth naturally loosened their grip. The woman seized the opportunity and fled instantly, dissipating like a gust of wind.

The wife scanned the room in all directions but saw nothing. She laughed, "In broad daylight, where would a female ghost come from? You must have been dreaming too much, acting quite frantic."

The old man cried out in protest, "Wife, there truly was a ghost! I just bit off a piece of her flesh. If you don’t believe me, the bloodstain on the bedding will serve as proof." He gestured with his finger toward the pillow and sheets for his wife to examine.

The wife searched carefully and found only a puddle of foul-smelling liquid soaking the covers, causing her to frown repeatedly. This foul puddle, naturally, was the discharge from the wound the female ghost had sustained. The old man thought, "Such fetid corpse-water, and I just bit it and sucked on it, perhaps even swallowing a few mouthfuls. Oh, how disgusting." At this realization, he could not help but retch and vomit. This lasted for several days, and the foul odor lingered in the old man's mouth long after.