The residence of Jiang Bulang in Weinan was plagued by frequent hauntings, mischievous spirits that often emerged to confuse and mislead his family. Jiang Bulang, utterly exasperated by the persistent disturbances, was forced to move his entire household, leaving behind an old servant to guard the manor. Shortly thereafter, the old servant died inexplicably. Several caretakers followed, but without exception, all met the same fatal end. Jiang Bulang, deeply troubled, had no choice but to let the mansion fall into disuse.

In the county town lived Tao Wangsan, a man of dashing charm who frequented brothels; however, he was a man of self-respect, choosing only to drink and never to stay the night. His friends, teasing him, secretly instigated a courtesan to seduce him. Tao Wangsan smiled, accepted her company, and allowed the woman to stay the night in his rooms, yet he himself kept vigil by candlelight, reading, and never once encroached upon her.

Tao Wangsan, acquainted with Jiang Bulang, was once a guest at the latter’s home. A maidservant there made advances toward him, but Tao Wangsan remained unmoved, dismissing her with a few sharp words. When Jiang Bulang learned of this, his respect for Tao grew even deeper. Tao Wangsan was of humble means, his wife having died young. He possessed only a few dilapidated rooms, and it was the height of summer, the heat inside being so oppressive that sleep was impossible. Unable to bear it any longer, Tao Wangsan approached Jiang Bulang, requesting to rent the deserted mansion.

Due to the persistent hauntings, Jiang Bulang politely refused. Tao Wangsan pleaded repeatedly and even penned an essay titled “A Further Discourse on the Absence of Ghosts,” demonstrating his unwavering resolve. Having read the piece, Jiang Bulang admired the sentiment. Seeing Tao’s determination, he no longer objected and nodded his assent.

Tao Wangsan arrived at the desolate estate, cleaned the bedding, and moved in as dusk settled. He arranged his books on the table, when suddenly, the volumes vanished without a trace. Puzzled, Tao lay back on the bed, closed his eyes to rest, and watched to see what would transpire. Before long, footsteps sounded on the floorboards. Tao opened his eyes stealthily and saw two young women emerging from the room, each carrying several books—his missing possessions.

The two women carefully placed the books back on the table, returning them to their owner. One woman appeared to be in her early twenties, the other perhaps seventeen or eighteen; both were peerless beauties. The pair lingered by the bedside, exchanging smiling glances. Tao remained perfectly still. The elder extended her left foot and gently prodded Tao’s stomach, while the younger one giggled behind her hand. Tao felt a stirring within him, a struggle for self-control, but the thought lasted only a fleeting moment before he suppressed it.

The elder then reached out with her left hand to tug at his beard, while her right hand slapped his cheek with a resounding crack. The younger girl laughed even more heartily. Tao could restrain himself no longer. He suddenly sprang up and shouted, “What manner of fiends are you, daring to behave with such insolence!” Hearing this, the two women fled in terror. Tao feared they might return, contemplating leaving at once, but he hesitated, worried that others would mock him for being unreliable. After a brief deliberation, he ultimately decided to stay. He lit a lamp and read alone; shadows flickered in the darkness, but Tao forced down his fear, ignoring them, remaining steadfast.

Around midnight, Tao extinguished the lamp and lay down to sleep. As soon as he closed his eyes, he felt something poking his nostril. An unbearable itch flared in his nose, forcing a sneeze. He faintly heard a woman’s laughter echo from the darkness. Tao kept his eyes shut, feigning sleep while secretly preparing himself for whatever came next. Soon, a young girl tiptoed to the bedside, holding a paper tube. Tao leaped up, shouting sternly. The girl startled and drifted backward. Later, as Tao drifted into a deep sleep, the girl returned to poke his ear. Her relentless disturbances, day and night, became unbearable.

Silence finally fell indoors only when the rooster crowed outside the window. Exhausted to the limit, Tao slept soundly until evening. During this time, he remained unharmed, and the girl did not reappear. Not long after, as the sun set, the ghostly shadows returned to the house. The two maidens reappeared. Tao, unfazed by the recurring sight, simply started a fire to cook, intending to read through the entire night without rest.

The elder maiden watched Tao peruse his books, smiling faintly. She stood opposite him, resting her chin in her hands, gazing at him without blinking, watching him read with a persistent smile. Tao snorted, utterly unmoved. Growing bored, the maiden reached out and closed his book.

Tao erupted in anger and lunged to grab it, but the maiden’s form wavered, vanishing in an instant. Shortly thereafter, the elder returned to cause trouble. Tao pressed down hard on his book, preventing her interference.

The younger maiden crept stealthily behind his head, cupping her hands over Tao’s eyes before quickly retreating with a smile on her face. Tao cursed, “You little sprite, don’t let me catch you, or I’ll run you through with my sword.” Though his words sounded fierce, they were laced with apprehension. The girl merely gave him a look of disdain, paying him no mind whatsoever.

Tao, realizing he was helpless, conceded defeat, saying, “I am not well-versed in the arts of the chamber; it’s useless for you two to pester me.” The two women smiled sweetly, turned, and headed toward the stove, where they began washing rice, adding firewood, and starting a fire to cook. Tao was delighted, laughing, “Isn’t this much better, quiet and peaceful?”

Soon, the meal was ready. The two maidens rushed to set the bowls, spoons, chopsticks, and dishes neatly on the table. Tao remarked, “To have you two young ladies cook for me, I truly don’t know how I can repay you.” The maidens laughed, “We put arsenic and poison in the food. If you aren’t afraid to die, go ahead and eat.” Tao smiled back, “I have no prior enmity with you two. If you truly mean to harm me, then I must simply accept fate.” He picked up his bowl and chopsticks and began devouring the meal heartily. When his bowl was empty, the two maidens vied to refill it for him, serving him solicitously.

From then on, the three lived together in accustomed familiarity. Tao Wangsan asked for their names. The elder one replied, “My surname is Qiao, my name Qiurong; hers is Ruan, and she is called Xiaoxie.” Tao asked, “Where are you from?” Xiaoxie laughed, “Silly man, since you refuse to yield yourself to us, why ask so many questions? Do you intend to marry us?”

Tao Wangsan adopted a serious demeanor: “You two are incomparable beauties; how could I remain untouched? But to let ghostly energy permeate the body means certain death, which I truly dare not risk. If you two wish not to associate with me, you are free to leave at any time; if you choose to stay, you must behave yourselves. If you genuinely feel nothing for me, why should I shamelessly defile such grace? If you truly love me, you should not be obsessed with carnal pleasure to the point of endangering my life.” Hearing this, the two women were deeply moved, and from then on, they curbed their playful conduct and ceased their teasing.

One day, Tao Wangsan was copying a manuscript. He had to step out briefly on an errand. Upon his return, he found Xiaoxie bent over the desk, diligently copying the text for him. Startled by his entrance, Xiaoxie quickly put down the brush, offering a somewhat embarrassed smile. Tao approached to inspect her work; although her calligraphy was crude, it was arranged with meticulous neatness, clearly showing the care she took in copying. He smiled, “It seems you are a cultured lady as well. If you enjoy reading, I can teach you.” As he spoke, he drew her into his embrace and began teaching her calligraphy hand-over-hand.

Just then, Qiurong entered from outside. Seeing the scene, her expression soured, betraying a hint of jealousy. Xiaoxie laughed, “I learned writing from my father when I was little, but I haven't practiced in a long time, so my hand is clumsy.” Qiurong remained silent. Tao Wangsan, sensing her jealousy, pretended not to notice. He beckoned to her, drew her into his arms, and handed Qiurong a brush, asking, “Can you write? Show me.”

Qiurong took the brush and wrote a few lines; the characters were crooked and barely legible. Tao Wangsan laughed, “Not bad at all.” Upon receiving his praise, Qiurong’s expression softened, her anger turning to delight. Tao Wangsan produced two sheets of blank paper and instructed them both to copy his script. He lit another oil lamp and moved to a side table to read, allowing them to work independently without interference.

When the two women finished their copies, they brought them to Tao for appraisal. Qiurong, who had never been formally schooled, produced scribbles that were almost indistinguishable. Realizing she could not compare to Xiaoxie, a shadow of shame crossed her face, and she became sullen. Tao Wangsan gently soothed her with soft words, and only then did she cheer up. From that day forward, the two formally became his students, serving him diligently—sometimes scratching his back, sometimes massaging him, each trying to please him more than the other.

In just over a month, Xiaoxie’s calligraphy had improved dramatically, her script becoming elegant. When Tao praised her occasionally, Qiurong would look ashamed, her eyes turning red, tears streaming down her face. Tao Wangsan consoled her until she finally smiled through her tears.

Tao Wangsan finally yielded to Qiurong’s persistent requests and began teaching her to read. Qiurong proved remarkably bright, grasping lessons instantly without needing repetition. She would study with Tao every day until deep into the night. Xiaoxie then recommended her younger brother, Sanlang, to Tao, asking him to impart his knowledge. Sanlang, fifteen or sixteen years old, possessed a graceful and beautiful appearance. When he formally became Tao's student, he presented a golden ruyi as both an introductory gift and payment for instruction.

Tao had Sanlang study alongside Qiurong, encouraging mutual assistance, filling the room with the sound of study. Within several months, both Sanlang and Qiurong made rapid progress and learned to compose poetry, frequently exchanging verses in mutual appreciation. Xiaoxie secretly instructed Tao not to teach Qiurong reading. Tao nodded his agreement. Qiurong secretly instructed Tao not to teach Xiaoxie reading. Tao also nodded his agreement.

On the day Tao Wangsan was to leave for the civil service examinations, the two maidens tearfully bid him farewell. Sanlang advised, “Teacher, you should feign illness and not attend this examination. Otherwise, it may not turn out well.” Tao thought to himself, “To fake an illness and forgo the examination—is that the conduct of a true man?” Thus, he disregarded Sanlang’s warning and insisted on departing.

Previously, Tao Wangsan had offended a powerful local figure by satirizing current affairs in his poetry. This official harbored a deep grudge and secretly bribed the examining official to slander Tao for improper conduct, resulting in his imprisonment. Once incarcerated, Tao's funds dried up, leaving him short of food and clothing, realizing his end was near. As he was lamenting his fate, a figure suddenly materialized before him—it was Qiurong.

Qiurong brought him food and drink, saying, “Sanlang was right that your journey was ill-fated. He has accompanied me here, and he is currently at the county yamen filing a complaint. Do not worry.” With that, she bid him farewell and departed, her form ethereal; only her voice was heard, the body unseen.

The next day, when the Provincial Governor was out, Sanlang intercepted him to plead Tao’s case. The Governor agreed to review the matter. Qiurong relayed this news to Tao, spoke a few more words, then stood up to leave, heading to the yamen to inquire about the developments. She did not return for three days.

Tao Wangsan was consumed by worry and hunger, experiencing each day as if it were a year. Suddenly, Xiaoxie arrived, overcome with grief. She recounted, “After Qiurong returned, she passed the City God Temple and was seized by the Black Judge there, who forcibly tried to make her his concubine. Qiurong refused and is now imprisoned by the Judge, deprived of her freedom. I rushed a hundred li to deliver this message and accidentally scratched the sole of my foot on thorns. The pain pierces to the bone marrow; I fear I cannot return again.” As she spoke, she continuously massaged the sole of her foot, from which blood was oozing profusely. After rubbing it for a while, Xiaoxie produced three ounces of silver, gifted it to Tao, and hobbled away, vanishing in the blink of an eye.

The Governor interrogated Sanlang. Seeing that he had no connection to Tao Wangsan yet had inexplicably come forward to plead his case, the Governor grew suspicious and was about to have Sanlang flogged. Sanlang threw down his petition, which instantly disintegrated upon hitting the ground. The Governor, greatly astonished, picked up the remnants. Reading the impassioned and sorrowful plea, his admiration deepened. He immediately summoned Tao Wangsan and asked, “Who is Sanlang?” Tao replied, “I do not know, my Lord.” The Governor nodded, thoroughly re-examining the case. Learning that Tao had been framed, he immediately ordered his release.

Tao Wangsan returned to his residence, finding the chambers empty. Only near midnight did Xiaoxie arrive, weeping bitterly. She lamented, “When Sanlang went to plead for you, he was captured by the divine officials and escorted to the Underworld. Because of his righteousness, the King of Hell granted him reincarnation into a wealthy family. Qiurong is still confined by the Judge. I wrote a petition to the City God, but the Judge learned of it and suppressed my documents privately. What are we to do now?”

Tao Wangsan burned with indignation, cursing, “What a brazen Black Devil Judge, daring to act so wildly! Tomorrow, I will go to the City God Temple, smash the Judge’s statue to pieces, and grind it into the mud. I will also argue with the City God, asking why he permits his subordinates to run rampant without restraint. Is the City God always asleep? Hmph, this is outrageous!”

The two sat opposite each other, filled with resentment. Before they knew it, the fourth watch arrived, and Qiurong suddenly drifted back in. Both were overjoyed and rushed to ask the reason. Qiurong wept, “For your sake, Young Master, I have endured countless hardships. The Judge tormented me daily with whips and blades. Tonight, he suddenly released me, saying, ‘I meant no harm, my feelings for you are sincere; since you refuse, I dare not defile you. Go.’ He asked me to intercede for him with Scholar Tao, saying he was repentant and begging you not to press charges.”

Hearing this, Tao Wangsan was beside himself with joy and wanted to share the bed with the two maidens, proclaiming, “Today, I am willing to die for your sake.” The two shook their heads. “We have long benefited from your guidance and learned much wisdom. Our feelings for you are sincere, and we would never covet carnal pleasure to the point of costing you your life.” Tao Wangsan was deeply touched and drew both women into his arms, cherishing them freely. Having weathered hardship together, the two no longer felt jealousy.

One day, Tao Wangsan encountered a Daoist priest by the roadside who informed him, “There is ghostly energy upon you, Scholar.” Seeing the priest speak with such peculiar insight, Tao knew he had met an adept. He held nothing back, recounting the entire history of his experiences. The priest clucked his tongue in admiration, “These two female ghosts are kind-hearted; you must not betray them.” He took up his brush, wrote two spiritual talismans, and presented them to Tao, saying, “Take these back and give them to the female ghosts. Whoever is lucky: if you hear a woman crying outside the door, swallow your talisman immediately. The one who exits first will be resurrected.”

Tao Wangsan accepted the talismans and gave them to the two maidens upon his return. A month later, a woman’s weeping was indeed heard outside the door. The two maidens scrambled to leave. In her haste, Xiaoxie forgot to swallow her talisman. She saw a funeral procession passing by outside. Qiurong, being quicker, rushed forward and swiftly slipped inside the coffin. Xiaoxie could not enter and returned weeping bitterly.

Tao Wangsan came out to investigate. After some inquiries, he learned that the funeral belonged to the daughter of the wealthy man Hao. The onlookers, having witnessed Qiurong enter the coffin, were filled with doubt and amazement. Not long after, a sound came from within the coffin. Miss Hao suddenly revived and asked, “Where is Scholar Tao?” The wealthy man was bewildered and asked, “Daughter, are you dreaming? Who is Scholar Tao?” Miss Hao replied, “I am not your daughter; I am Qiurong.” Seeing the wealthy man’s disbelief, she briefly explained the process of her spirit possessing the body, and then she walked into the house.

With such evidence, the wealthy man had no choice but to believe her. He pragmatically accepted Qiurong as his adopted daughter and Tao Wangsan as his son-in-law, then took his leave. Tao Wangsan observed Miss Hao closely; her features were exquisite, her beauty certainly not inferior to Qiurong’s. He was overjoyed. As the couple grew close and affectionate, they suddenly heard the desolate sound of Xiaoxie weeping from within the room. Lighting a lamp, they looked to find her garments soaked and her face covered in tear tracks.

The two felt pity but did not know how to console her.

Xiaoxie wept until dawn before finally departing. The next morning, the wealthy man delivered the dowry for his daughter, arranging for the couple to hold the wedding ceremony. Once everything was settled, he departed. Entering the bridal chamber, Xiaoxie was overcome by sentiment and began to sob again. This continued for six or seven days; Xiaoxie wept every night, a sound that filled listeners with sorrow.

Tao Wangsan was at a loss for what to do, and Qiurong also frowned in deep thought. Suddenly, an idea sparked in her mind: “That Daoist priest from before possessed extraordinary power. We should seek his help.” Tao Wangsan repeatedly agreed and hurried to the Daoist’s residence, kneeling and begging for aid. The priest said, “I have no solution either.” Tao Wangsan implored him further. The priest laughed, “You scholars are truly persistent. Very well, given our affinity, I shall help you one last time.”

The two returned home. The priest entered the bedroom, closed the doors and windows, and instructed, “I am about to let my soul depart to search for Xiaoxie’s body. Whatever happens, do not disturb me.” Tao Wangsan agreed and asked, “How long will this search for a body take?” The priest replied, “It is hard to say; anywhere from half a day to several months.” Having spoken, he closed his eyes and became motionless.

More than ten days passed this way; the priest neither ate nor drank.

One evening at dusk, a young woman pushed aside the curtain and entered. She was radiant, with bright eyes and shining teeth. She said to Tao, “I am utterly exhausted from days of relentless travel. Your incessant pestering forced me to travel a hundred li, but I have finally found a good vessel.” As she spoke, Xiaoxie walked into the room. The young woman laughed, “You’re here, that’s good.” She opened her arms and embraced Xiaoxie. With a soft sound, the two merged into one being. Then, the young woman’s body collapsed, falling unconscious.

In the bedroom, the Daoist priest let out a loud laugh, walked out, bowed in farewell, and departed. Shortly after, the young woman slowly opened her eyes and said, “Walking a hundred li continuously is so tiring for my legs.” Her voice was gentle—who else could it be but Xiaoxie?

Later, Tao Wangsan achieved success in the examinations and became a Jinshi alongside a man named Cai Zijing. When Cai Zijing passed by the Tao residence on official business, he chanced upon Xiaoxie and was greatly shocked. He said to Tao Wangsan, “Your wife’s appearance is strikingly familiar; she is the spitting image of my younger sister. However, my sister passed away three years ago, and two days after burial, her body vanished without a trace. Heavens, I never thought there could be someone so closely resembling her.”

Tao Wangsan smiled, “My humble wife is merely a village woman; how could she compare to your sister? Since Brother Cai misses his kin, and given our friendship, why not have my wife come out to greet you?” Not long after, Xiaoxie emerged, dressed in mourning attire, moving with grace. Cai Zijing gasped, “It truly is my sister!” He composed himself and asked, “Brother Tao, what exactly is happening?”

Tao Wangsan recounted the whole story from beginning to end. Cai Zijing was overjoyed: “So it’s a case of the spirit returning to a borrowed body! Since my sister is not dead, this is cause for great celebration. I must rush back to inform my parents.” He rose from his seat, excused himself, and departed.

Several days later, Cai’s entire family descended upon the Tao residence. The two families became in-laws, visiting each other constantly.