In his youth, Yu Gong was renowned for his chivalry; his mastery of both fist and sword was absolute, his strength prodigious—he could lift the high-legged Gaojiao Louhu (High-Legged Water Clock) and dance in a whirlwind without tiring. During the Chongzhen era, Yu Gong traveled to the capital for the Imperial Examination. When his servant fell ill, Yu Gong grew secretly anxious. Hearing of an elderly fortune-teller in the market renowned for accurate readings, he decided to seek him out.

Arriving at the diviner’s stall, before Yu Gong could speak, the old man had already divined his purpose: "Has the young master come to inquire about his servant’s illness?" Yu Gong was aghast but nodded in confirmation. The old man continued, "Your servant’s body is unharmed; the danger lies with the young master himself."

The words concluded, the old man cast a divination for Yu Gong and declared, "Within three days, the young master is fated to die."

Yu Gong laughed. "Fate decrees life and death; what is there to fear?"

The old man said, "This humble one can employ a minor technique to resolve the young master’s worry, but the fee will require ten ounces of gold."

Yu Gong smiled without answering and turned to leave. The old man called out, "Sir is stingy with a small fee, do not live to regret it!"

Returning home, the third day arrived in the blink of an eye. Yu Gong sat upright in his lodging, quietly observing events. The entire day passed uneventfully. As night fell, the young master lit a lamp, held his sword, and waited until the first watch. Seeing no movement, he was just preparing for bed when he suddenly heard a rustling sound at the window. He focused his gaze instantly and saw a four-inch-tall miniature man, clutching a long spear, flip through the window. He landed on the floor, his body swelling rapidly until he reached the height of a normal person.

Yu Gong lunged with his sword, but the swift movement evaded the strike. The attacker abruptly shrank again, frantically searching for a gap in the window frame, intending to flee. Yu Gong sprang forward in an arrow-like rush, bringing his longsword down. The little man collapsed instantly, cleanly severed at the waist. Under the candlelight, a closer inspection revealed nothing more than a paper effigy.

A moment later, another object pierced through the window, grotesque and ghost-like. It landed on its feet, and Yu Gong swung his sword, cleaving it from head to toe. Though struck, the creature did not immediately die and continued to writhe. Fearing it might revive, Yu Gong delivered several more punishing blows, each one landing true. The sounds produced were strange, unlike those made by human flesh. A brief scrutiny showed it to be a clay figurine, now shattering into pieces.

With these bizarre events mounting, Yu Gong dared not sleep, moving his seat beneath the window, forcing himself to stay alert and prepared for battle. After a long interval, the sound of heavy breathing, like an ox’s, came from outside the window. A monstrous figure pushed against the window lattice, causing the room’s walls to shake ominously, threatening collapse. Worried the house might fall, Yu Gong thought, "What manner of fiend is this? I shall meet it outside the room."

With that resolve, he threw open the door and rushed out. In the courtyard stood a colossal ghost, as tall as the eaves, its face black as coal, its eyes flashing yellow light. Its upper body was bare (implied by context for a giant figure), and its feet were bare. In its hand, it held a bow, and arrows hung at its waist.

The giant ghost saw Yu Gong, drew its bow without a word, and loosed an arrow aimed directly at the throat. Yu Gong blocked with his sword, and the projectile clattered harmlessly to the ground. As he advanced to challenge the fiend, another arrow flew towards him. Yu Gong dodged sideways; the arrow whistled like lightning, embedding itself deep into the brick wall with a chi sound, the shaft vanishing entirely.

The giant ghost, missing several shots, became furious. It discarded the bow, drew a saber, and swung it like a gale, hacking wildly towards Yu Gong’s head. Yu Gong remained completely unfazed, weaving his way beneath the raging blade, maneuvering between the fiend's legs. His sword struck forth like a tide, piercing the demon’s ankle. The contact rang out like struck iron, humming with resonance.

Struck, the fiend roared like thunder and brought its heavy saber down in rage, hitting a hard stone, which shattered into dust.

For an instant, man and ghost fought a life-and-death struggle, locked in an intractable bout. Suddenly, the fiend’s saber sliced off a corner of Yu Gong’s robe. Enraged, Yu Gong swept his hand up and brought his sword down, burying it in the ghost’s left ribcage. With a mournful cry, the fiend collapsed stiffly. Approaching for a look, he saw it was no true demon, but merely a wooden puppet, as tall as a man, with a bow and arrows strapped to its waist and a ferocious visage. Striking it with his sword, thick, dark blood began to seep out.

Yu Gong suddenly understood. "Whether it was a little ghost or a clay figurine, they were all sent by the fortune-teller, waiting for an opportunity to claim my life, all to prove his superior divination skills and profit financially. Hmph, he will not escape me."

The next morning at dawn, Yu Gong stormed back to the diviner’s stall, intent on settling the score. The old man spotted him from afar and hastily employed an invisibility spell to evade detection. Yu Gong searched everywhere, finding no trace of the man. Realizing what must be done, he fetched a basin of dog’s blood and splashed it about. The old man’s spell was broken, and he instantly materialized. He was dripping with filth, his expression wretched—three parts man, seven parts ghost.

Yu Gong showed no mercy, tying the old man’s hands behind his back and delivering him to the Yamen (magistrate’s office). After a full interrogation, the old man received his due punishment: immediate execution by beheading.