In Taiyuan lived a scholar surnamed Wang. One early morning, while out for a stroll, he encountered a young woman hurrying along, clutching a bundle. Observing her closely, he noted she was barely sixteen or seventeen, possessed of truly striking beauty. He approached her, "On such an early hour, madam, where are you bound?"

The woman replied, "You are merely a passerby; you can neither ease nor solve my troubles. Why ask?"

Scholar Wang offered, "Whatever sorrow weighs upon you, pray tell it. If there is any service I can render, I shall not refuse."

The lady sighed mournfully, "My parents, greedy for coin, sold me into a wealthy household as a concubine. The principal wife, consumed by jealousy, cannot tolerate my presence, beating and cursing me morning till night. I have borne enough torment and have fled in secret."

Scholar Wang inquired, "And where do you intend to flee?"

The woman lamented, "A woman on the run—who would offer shelter? Home must be wherever the four seas stretch."

Wang offered readily, "My residence is not far from here. If you do not mind, madam, you may stay as long as you wish."

The lady was overjoyed. She followed the scholar back to his dwelling. Once inside and seeing no one about, she asked, "Sir lives here all alone, with no others present?"

Scholar Wang replied, "I have a wife as well, surnamed Chen, a woman of virtue. This here is my study; the surroundings are elegant. Rest assured, madam, no one will come to disturb you."

The woman agreed, "This place is very fine, but I dislike meeting strangers. I ask that you keep my presence a secret, my lord."

Scholar Wang readily consented. The woman smiled faintly, and thereupon cast off her outer garments. A man and a woman became intimately entwined; no further elaboration is necessary.

Scholar Wang, having gained a stroke of romantic fortune, boasted secretly to his wife, "My dear, let me tell you something—I am secretly harboring a beauty in the study. You must not be angry."

Madam Chen frowned. "What beauty? Pray, do not tell me she is a dowried maid from some great house. Send her away quickly, lest we invite trouble."

Scholar Wang merely shook his head and smiled, offering no concession.

Midday one day, Scholar Wang was wandering through the market when he chanced upon a Daoist priest. The moment the Daoist saw the scholar's face, his expression shifted in shock. He asked, "Young master, have you become entangled with something unclean?"

Scholar Wang responded, "No, I have not."

The Daoist insisted, "How can you say no? I see malevolent energy swirling about you, sir. You must have encountered a ghost."

Scholar Wang grew indignant. "You impudent priest, spouting nonsense! Why slander a person without cause?"

The Daoist shook his head. "Your death approaches, yet you remain deluded. Pitiful, pitiful." With that, he walked away on his own business.

The Daoist's strange words instilled suspicion in Scholar Wang. He pondered, "Could the beauty I brought home actually be a demoness? Impossible! Such a vision, how could she be a monster? Most likely, the Daoist is merely playing the mystic to extort money."

Dejectedly, he returned home and went to the study, only to find the door firmly shut in broad daylight. A jolt of alarm struck him. He tiptoed stealthily to the window and peered in. There sat a hideous female ghoul on the edge of the bed, her face a ghastly, sickening green, her fangs sharp as blades, her visage utterly terrifying. Looking further, he saw that the bed was covered, at some unknown time, with a sheet of human skin. The ghoul held a colored brush, delicately sketching upon the skin. After a short while, she tossed the brush aside, seized the human skin, and draped it over herself. In an instant, she transformed into an incomparable beauty.

Scholar Wang, having stumbled upon the ghoul’s secret, trembled with terror. Fearing any noise might betray his presence, he flattened himself to the floor, crawled slowly out of the room, and bolted away to find the Daoist for aid. Reaching the outskirts, he saw the Daoist resting upon a stone. He rushed forward and knelt down, repeating one desperate phrase over and over: "Daoist Master, save me! Daoist Master, save me!"

The Daoist sighed. "Rise first, and listen to me: Though this female ghost is ferocious, she is, after all, a creature of this world. She went to great pains to find a human skin substitute, and I cannot bear to take her life. Very well, I shall give you my whisk. Hang it outside your bedroom door when you return, and it will surely keep you safe. Should you need me in the future, come to the Azure Emperor Temple."

Scholar Wang thanked him profusely and, returning home, slept in his wife's room, hanging the whisk upon the doorframe. At the first watch of the night, the female ghost arrived to menace them. Upon seeing the whisk, she recoiled in fear, gnashing her teeth, and departed in bitter anger. Scholar Wang patted his chest, letting out a breath of relief. Suddenly, he heard footsteps—the female ghost had returned, cursing, "That vile Daoist scared me! But food already tasted cannot be abandoned." She snatched the whisk down and, in a few movements, tore it to shreds. Kicking the door open, she forced Scholar Wang onto the bed, split open his chest, dug out his heart, swallowed it whole, and then, with a great laugh, swept away.

Madam Chen, hiding beneath the bed, watched her husband die tragically beside her and wailed uncontrollably. Scholar Wang, clinging to the last vestiges of life, gasped out brokenly, "Go... go to the Azure Emperor Temple for... for the Daoist Master. Hurry... hurry!"

The wife dared not disobey. She quickly summoned her younger brother, Chen Erlang, instructing him to rush to the Azure Emperor Temple and implore the Daoist Master to deal with the female ghost.

At the Azure Emperor Temple, the Daoist met Chen Erlang. Upon learning the female ghost had committed murder, the Daoist flew into a rage. "What audacity, this female ghost! I spared her, and she becomes rampant in evil. Hmph, we are now mortal enemies."

He hurried to the Wang residence, but the female ghost had vanished without a trace. Gazing intently, he spotted black smoke coiling toward the south. He knew this was where the ghost had hidden. "Do not fret; the evil spirit has not traveled far. Young Master Chen, whose residence lies to the south?"

Chen Erlang replied, "That is my home, sir."

The Daoist stated, "The female ghost is currently within your household. Go back quietly and investigate. See if any strangers have visited today. Report back to me swiftly."

Chen Erlang obeyed and returned shortly after. "The Daoist Master guessed correctly. This morning, an old woman came to my estate applying for a position as a servant. Besides her, there were no other strangers."

The Daoist declared, "This old woman is the female ghost. Let us go apprehend her." Carrying a peach-wood sword, he burst into the courtyard of the Chen estate, shouting, "Evil spirit! You destroyed my whisk, return what you owe!"

Hearing this, the female ghost knew she was no match for the Daoist. She rushed out of the room intending to flee, but the Daoist quickly caught up. His sword swept down, severing the ghost's head in one stroke. The ghost let out a piercing shriek, dissolving into thick smoke that billowed everywhere. The Daoist took the gourd from his waist, removed the stopper, and inhaled the smoke like a great whale sucking water, drawing every last wisp into the bottle.

When the smoke dissipated, the female ghost was utterly annihilated, leaving no bones behind—only a fresh human skin, its features, hands, and feet rendered with perfect likeness. The Daoist rolled the skin up as if it were a scroll painting and tucked it into his pouch, then bid farewell and departed.

Madam Chen clutched the Daoist’s robes, begging, "Please, Master, show mercy and revive my husband."

The Daoist sighed. "My meager abilities cannot resurrect the dead. I will point you toward a path: Not far from here, in the bustling marketplace, there dwells a beggar, mad and erratic, who often sleeps nestled in a pile of filth. This man possesses profound, transcendent skills and might have a way to bring Scholar Wang back to life. However, his temper is strange. If his words insult you, you must bear the humiliation and never allow yourself anger. I have said all I can; manage as you will, madam." With these words, he drifted away.

Madam Chen reached the marketplace and indeed found a beggar behaving shamefully, with snot dripping three feet, emanating an overwhelming stench. She knew she had found the right person. She quickly approached and knelt down, pleading, "Senior, please save him."

The beggar reached out and stroked Madam Chen's face, chuckling, "Does the beauty fancy me?" Madam Chen dared not struggle, only bowing her head repeatedly. The beggar ignored her completely and laughed, "If your husband is dead, he is dead. Just find another one; is it not wonderful to be available to all men? Why bother saving your scholar?"

Madam Chen remained silent, though tears began to fall involuntarily. The beggar remained unmoved. He continued, "Hey, how can a dead man be brought back to life? Do you think I am the King of Hell?" He angrily swung his staff, beating her repeatedly across the back.

Madam Chen endured the pain without complaint. The beggar spat forcefully, letting loose a mouthful of foul phlegm, the stench sharp and suffocating. He commanded, "Swallow it."

Madam Chen’s face flushed, showing visible reluctance, but remembering the Daoist’s instruction, she forced down her nausea, closed her eyes, and swallowed the thick phlegm. She felt as if a wad of cotton had blocked her chest, causing great distress.

The beggar then burst into loud laughter and turned to walk away, chanting as he went, "The beauty likes me, the beauty likes me."

Madam Chen hurried to follow him, arriving at a ruined temple where the beggar suddenly vanished into thin air. She searched everywhere but found no trace. Madam Chen was on the verge of tears, feeling utterly insulted, both ashamed and distressed. Silently, she returned home, picked up her husband's corpse, and began painstakingly stuffing his intestines and organs back into his belly, weeping softly as she worked.

As she wept, her throat grew dry, and she felt on the verge of vomiting. Unintentionally, an object jumped from her throat and fell precisely into Scholar Wang's abdominal cavity. It pulsed faintly, emitting warmth, steam rising. Focusing her gaze, she realized with a start that it was a heart.

Madam Chen rejoiced. She quickly found strips of cloth and tightly bound her husband's body to prevent the heart from leaping out of his chest. Gradually, warmth permeated the area around the wounds, and the corpse regained its body temperature. A faint breath stirred, and he was breathing the air again. After a night passed, Scholar Wang was resurrected, exclaiming, "It feels like a dream, as if I walked through the gates of Hell. But why is there a dull ache in my chest and abdomen?" He looked down at the damaged area; the wound had already scabbed over.