Master Li of Changshan was the nephew of the Grand Minister of Justice in the imperial court. His residence was often plagued by uncanny occurrences and strange events.

On one occasion, while the elder Mr. Li was engrossed in reading in the main hall, a bench inexplicably materialized on the floor. It was flesh-pink, incredibly smooth and fine, and remarkably ornate.

Mr. Li thought, "This bench looks terribly unfamiliar; I don't recall ever seeing it before." Driven by curiosity, he approached and gently ran his hand over it. The bench yielded instantly, curving and flexing—soft in places as if it were living skin.

Mr. Li started in shock and bolted, glancing back as he fled. He watched as the bench moved its four legs as an animal would, then zipped away, burrowing directly into the wall.

On another day, Mr. Li saw a slender, polished wooden stick leaning against the wall. When he reached out to touch it, the stick collapsed limply, arching and writhing as if a small snake were slithering, before it too vanished into the masonry.

In the seventeenth year of the Kangxi reign, Scholar Wang Junsheng arrived at the Li estate to tutor the family. One dusk, Scholar Wang lit a lamp to wash his feet, preparing to retire for the night. Suddenly, faint footsteps sounded outside the door, and a tiny man, no more than three inches tall, entered the room, surveyed the space, and then departed.

Shortly thereafter, the little man returned, carrying two miniature stools, perhaps the size of grass toys woven by rural children from sorghum stalks. He set the stools on the ground, clapped his hands, and two more diminutive figures emerged from outside. Barely a few inches high, these two carried a small coffin, about four inches long, suspended between their shoulders.

They placed the coffin across the stools and stood silently, hands clasped behind their backs, seemingly waiting. Then came soft whimpering sounds as a young woman, accompanied by several maids, entered the room. They wore mourning white, tied coarse rope around their waists, wrapped their heads in white cloth, and sobbed with their sleeves covering their mouths.

The woman was small, and her cries were barely audible, sounding like the buzz of a trapped fly. Scholar Wang watched this bizarre scene with a cold eye. Goosebumps prickled his skin; his entire body grew chill as if struck by frost. He let out a cry and tried to bolt, but his knees buckled, utterly refusing to obey. Before he could take more than a few steps, there was a dull thud as he collapsed onto the floor.

The servants, hearing the noise, rushed in to investigate, only to find the room utterly silent. All the tiny figures had vanished without a trace.