The Yu Qi case resulted in the execution of entire families, with the counties of Qixia and Laiyang suffering the most. One day, a hundred captives were rounded up and slaughtered in the drill ground. The ground was slick with crimson blood amidst scattered white bones. The compassionate magistrates donated coffins, purchasing every last one available in the shops. Most of the executed were buried in the southern outskirts.

During the Jia Yin year, a scholar from Laiyang traveled to Jinan. Two or three of his close friends had also perished in the purges. He bought incense and paper and paid respects to the spirits at the gravesite. Not far from the tombs stood a monastery, and the scholar took lodging there.

The next day, the scholar went into the city on business and had not returned by dusk when suddenly a young man arrived at the lodging. Seeing the scholar absent, the visitor removed his hat, climbed onto the bed, and lay there, shoes and all. When the servant asked who he was, the young man kept his eyes shut and offered no reply. When the scholar finally returned in the dim twilight, unable to clearly make out figures, he went to inquire from under the bed. The young man glared out and exclaimed, "I have waited for my host for a long time, incessantly questioned; am I a thief?" The scholar laughed, "Your host is here." The young man instantly sprang up, put on his hat, bowed deeply, and sat upright. The two exchanged courtesies. Judging by the young man's accent, he sounded familiar. The scholar hurriedly lit a lamp to look closely: it was Scholar Zhu from the same county, who had also died in the Yu Qi calamity.

The scholar was terrified, turned, and tried to flee, but Scholar Zhu forcefully grabbed him, saying, "My acquaintance with you, sir, was through literature; why such coldness? Though I am a ghost, I have not forgotten the friendship of old. Even if I cause offense, please do not suspect me." The scholar then sat down and asked his purpose. Scholar Zhu replied, "Your niece lives alone and unmarried. I wish to wed her. I have repeatedly sent matchmakers, but always in vain. I ask that you intercede. If the marriage succeeds, I shall not forget this great kindness."

It was known that when the niece was young, her mother died, and she resided with the scholar until she returned to her hometown at fifteen. During the Yu Qi unrest, she was captured and taken to Jinan. Her father was executed, and she wept herself to death.

Hearing this, the scholar said, "Matters of marriage are decided by parents. She still has a father; why seek me out?" Scholar Zhu responded, "Her father’s coffin has been moved by his nephew; he is not here." The scholar inquired, "Who has she relied upon?" Scholar Zhu replied, "She lives with the old lady next door." The scholar thought to himself, "There is a division between the living and the dead; how can I act as a matchmaker?" Scholar Zhu insisted, "There is no time to lose; please accompany me on a brief journey." The scholar asked, "Where are we going?" Scholar Zhu said, "Ask no more." He took the scholar’s hand and led him out.

About a li north, there was a large village with several dozen households. They arrived at a residence. Scholar Zhu knocked on the door, and an old woman came out, asking, "Who is there?" Scholar Zhu said, "Please hurry and inform the lady: her uncle has arrived." The old woman turned and left, returning moments later to invite the guest inside. Glancing at Scholar Zhu, she said, "The quarters are humble and cramped; please wait outside the door, sir." Scholar Zhu nodded in agreement and told the scholar, "Go in with her, and do not forget the purpose of this visit."

The scholar followed her in and saw a small, neglected courtyard with two small rooms. His niece waited outside the door. Upon meeting, relatives wept for one another. Inside the room, the lamp burned brightly. The niece's appearance was as pure and delicate as ever. Gazing at him through tears, she asked, "Is the rest of the family well?" The scholar replied, "They are all safe, but your aunt has passed away." The niece choked back a sob, "When I was young, I was greatly cared for by my aunt. I never repaid her kindness, and now she has gone to the Yellow Springs; this is a source of deep regret. Last year, my older cousin moved my father’s remains, leaving me here alone, uncared for. Hundreds of li away, I was solitary as an autumn swallow. Fortunately, my uncle showed kindness and sent gold and silk, all of which I received."

The scholar pleaded the match for Scholar Zhu, but the niece lowered her head and remained silent. The old lady remarked, "Scholar Zhu has entrusted Old Lady Yang to call three or five times. I thought it a suitable match, but the young lady refused to give a hasty answer. Now that her uncle speaks on his behalf, she should be pleased."

As they spoke, a young woman emerged, perhaps seventeen or eighteen. Upon seeing the scholar, she turned to leave. The niece held onto the corner of her skirt and said, "No need for that; this is Uncle, not a stranger." The scholar bowed, and the young woman returned the gesture with a modest curtsey. The niece introduced her, "This is Miss Gongsun Jiu-niang, from Qixia County. She comes from a distinguished family, though their fortunes have declined, leaving her melancholy. She often visits me."

The scholar looked closely. Jiu-niang’s smile bent like the autumn moon, flushing her cheeks like the morning glow—she was beautiful as a celestial being. He commented, "Truly a lady of high birth. A daughter of the poor would not possess such grace." The niece laughed, "And he’s a great scholar, accomplished in poetry!"

Jiu-niang smiled faintly, "This little maid is wrongly defaming me, making Uncle feel embarrassed." The niece laughed, "Uncle is still unwed; if he could gain this young lady as a wife, he would surely be content." Jiu-niang laughed and ran out, saying, "This little servant has gone mad." With that, the gathering dispersed.

After the beauty departed, the scholar's soul was restless. His niece seemed to sense it and said, "Jiu-niang is peerless in talent and beauty. If Uncle does not mind that she is a spirit, I will arrange things for you." The scholar was overjoyed but hesitated, "The paths of the living and the dead are separate; how can they be matched?" The niece replied, "It does not matter; you two are destined to meet." The scholar took his leave, and the niece walked him to the door, saying, "In five days, when the moon is bright and the people are quiet, I will send someone to fetch you."

Outside the gate, the scholar could not find Scholar Zhu. He craned his neck looking west. The moon hung high in the sky. In the dim yellow light, he made out a path leading to a residence to the south. Scholar Zhu sat on a stone at the door. He stood up to greet the scholar and said, "I have waited long for you. This is my humble abode; if you do not mind, come in and sit." The two entered hand in hand. Scholar Zhu thanked him profusely and brought out a gold cup and a hundred pearls, saying, "I have nothing valuable on hand; please accept these as betrothal gifts." He added, "Though I have fine wine at home, it is a substance of the netherworld, unsuitable for entertaining a guest; what can be done?" The scholar thanked him and withdrew. Scholar Zhu escorted him halfway, bidding a reluctant farewell. Back at the monastery, the monks asked about his whereabouts. They warned, "There are many ghosts nearby; donor, do not wander recklessly." The scholar replied, "I went for a drink at a friend's house; the venerable monks need not worry."

Five days later, Scholar Zhu indeed arrived, clad in fine silks and boots, gently fanning himself with a folding fan, looking quite pleased with himself. Upon reaching the courtyard, he bowed low to the ground. The scholar returned the greeting with clasped fists and invited him inside. Scholar Zhu laughed, "Congratulations, congratulations! The marriage has been settled; tonight is the wedding night. Let us go now." The scholar said, "Since there has been no reply for so long, the betrothal gifts were not delivered; how can we marry?" Scholar Zhu said, "As for the gifts, I already delivered them for you." The scholar thanked him repeatedly, and the two proceeded to Scholar Zhu’s residence, where the niece greeted them dressed in her finest. The scholar asked, "When did you move in?" Scholar Zhu replied, "It has been three days already."

The scholar produced the gold cup and pearls as a dowry for his niece. The niece declined to accept them, saying, "I have already proposed marriage on Uncle’s behalf to Madam Gongsun. The old lady was very pleased and said, 'I have only one daughter and do not wish Jiu-niang to marry far away. Tonight, I ask you to marry into our family. As there are no men in the household, I request my nephew to keep you company.'" Upon hearing this, Scholar Zhu immediately led the scholar towards the village end, where a mansion stood with its main gate wide open. The two ascended the hall. Moments later, a servant announced, "The Old Madam has arrived." Two maids supported an old woman out. The scholar hurried to kowtow in greeting. The old woman said, "I am frail and cannot return the courtesy. Let us dispense with the formalities where possible." She ordered servants to prepare a banquet, treating the guests generously. The dishes served were indistinguishable from those in the world of the living. However, the old woman poured her own drinks and did not offer wine to the others.

After the meal, Scholar Zhu bid farewell. A maid in green led the scholar into a room where Jiu-niang, adorned in exquisite clothing, awaited. The two met again in reunion, went to bed, and experienced consummate bliss.

Originally, when Jiu-niang and her mother were captured, they were intended for transport to the capital. Upon reaching Jinan, her mother could not endure the abuse and died. Jiu-niang also took her own life. Lying by the pillow, recalling past events, she could not sleep for grief and composed two poems: "The silken robes of yesteryear have turned to dust, only regret for past karma remains. Ten years of cold dew under the maple moon, this night, I first meet spring in the painted chamber." "The wind and rain lash the solitary grave of the white poplar; who would think the terrace of romance would become clouds again? Suddenly opening the inlaid gold casket, the smell of blood still stains the old silk skirt."

As dawn approached, Jiu-niang urged the scholar to leave, saying, "Return to the temple quietly; do not startle the servants." From then on, the two visited each other day and night, their affection deepening. One evening, the scholar asked Jiu-niang the name of the village. Jiu-niang replied, "Laixiali. Most of the spirits here are from Qixia and Laiyang counties, hence the name." Hearing this, the scholar sighed with emotion. Jiu-niang spoke sadly, "A thousand miles of gentle souls, drifting without refuge. Mother and child, alone and desolate—it is heartbreaking to speak of. If you, sir, still hold affection for our past, please collect our bones and move them to rest beside our ancestral graves, so that after a hundred generations, I may have a place to settle, and my memory may endure." The scholar agreed.

Jiu-niang said, "The living and the dead walk different paths; you cannot stay here long." She took off her silk stockings and gave them to him as a gift, bidding him a tearful farewell. The scholar departed sadly, feeling lost, reluctant to return. Passing Scholar Zhu’s residence, he knocked on the door. Scholar Zhu emerged barefoot to greet him. The niece also rose, her hair disheveled, and asked with alarm what the matter was. The scholar was silent for a long time before relaying Jiu-niang’s words. The niece responded, "Even if my sister had not mentioned it, I thought the same. This is not the human world; it is better to leave quickly." Then they wept together, and the scholar took his leave in tears.

Back at his lodgings, the scholar tossed and turned, unable to sleep. At dawn the next day, he intended to search for Jiu-niang’s grave, but unfortunately, he forgot to ask for any markers before leaving, so he gave up. That night, he returned, but surrounded by thousands of graves, he lost his way. He returned full of regret. He looked at the silk stockings, and they crumbled into dust, rotting like ash. Helpless, he packed his belongings and returned east, unable to find peace for half a year.

Later, the scholar could not forget Jiu-niang. He traveled to the outskirts of Jinan to search. When he arrived, it was late. He left his horse and cart at the monastery and walked alone to the burial ground. He saw continuous mounds of earth, overgrown with thorns, ghost-fires flickering, and foxes howling. His heart filled with dread, and he returned disappointed.

In low spirits, the scholar rode back home. A li to the east, he saw a lone woman walking among the graves. Her demeanor and bearing closely resembled Jiu-niang’s. He spurred his horse forward; it was indeed her. He dismounted and approached her. If Jiu-niang did not recognize him, she turned to leave. He pressed closer several times, and Jiu-niang’s face showed displeasure, tinged with anger, as she raised her sleeve to cover her face. The scholar called her name repeatedly, but Jiu-niang paid no heed, vanishing like smoke.