Wang Shengyu was traveling south, his boat anchored in the middle of the river. That night, unable to sleep under the silvery, taut moonlight outside his cabin, he called for his young attendant to give him a massage.

Suddenly, he heard the sound of a child walking across the roof of the boat, rustling faintly like reeds in the wind.

The sound moved from far to near, closing in on the cabin from the stern.

Fearing a thief, Wang Shengyu asked the attendant, "Did you hear that sound?" The attendant nodded, "I did."

As they spoke, a figure appeared, draped over the roof with his feet dangling down, his head thrust into the cabin, his features indistinct.

Wang Shengyu was greatly alarmed, drawing his sword and shouting, which woke all the other passengers on the boat.

Moments later, the sound came again, and everyone looked around, but the supposed "thief" had vanished without a trace.

Only the sparse stars and the bright moon hung in the sky, and the river water in the heart of the vast expanse seemed boundless.

The group gathered together, their eyes searching intently, when they saw a faint, pale blue light flicker on the water's surface, rising and falling with the waves, which extinguished itself as it drifted near the boat's side.

After the light disappeared, a figure dressed in black strode across the river water, rolling towards them. As the figure neared the vessel, one arm rested on the gunwale, and with a surge of borrowed strength, he vaulted onto the deck.

The people erupted in an uproar, "It must have been that thing causing trouble just now."

Bows were drawn and arrows loosed like rain. The monstrous figure plunged into the river with a plop and vanished in an instant.

When they questioned the boatmen about the cause, the boatman shrugged carelessly, saying, "This is an ancient battlefield; ghosts often appear here. There is no need to make a fuss."