When Mr. Han Yuanshao was merely a scholar, an official visited his humble dwelling, claiming to be sent by a master to secure his services as a tutor. Han Yuanshao, noticing the lack of any formal letter of appointment, felt a prickle of suspicion. He inquired about the master’s background, but the official offered only vague replies. When a substantial pile of gold and silver was presented as an advance, Han Yuanshao’s doubts subsided with the sight of such wealth, and he agreed to impart his knowledge, setting a date for the lessons to begin.

On the appointed day, the official arrived to escort him, ushering Han into a sedan chair. They traveled a winding path through strange and desolate areas he had never encountered. Soon, they arrived at a grand hall that rivaled a princely estate in its sheer magnificence. The official ushered him inside, offered wine and a lavish banquet, and told him, “Please make yourself comfortable; there is no need for formality.” Han Yuanshao looked around, but the master was nowhere to be seen. Presently, the feast was cleared away, and a young lord stepped forward to formally become his student. The youth, perhaps fifteen or sixteen, possessed a refined and handsome appearance. After completing the necessary courtesies, the young man excused himself, promising to appear only on the days designated for instruction.

The boy proved exceptionally brilliant, grasping literacy and the classics with mere suggestion. Han Yuanshao remained deeply unsettled by his ignorance of the master’s true identity. The young lord arranged for two book boys to attend to Han’s needs. When Han pressed them, “Where exactly is the master? Why have I never seen him?” they replied stiffly, “The Master is occupied with vital affairs and cannot spare a moment.” Han insisted, “If he cannot come to me, take me to him.” The boys exchanged troubled glances, clearly lacking the authority to consent. After repeated pleading, they reluctantly led him to a certain place. From within the room, they could distinctly hear the sounds of torture.

Han Yuanshao peered through a crack in the door and saw, seated upon a high dais within, a King whose surroundings—the mountains of blades and trees of swords beneath the steps—resembled the very apparatus of the Underworld. Struck by immense terror, Han spun around to flee, but the King of Hell had already perceived him. The interrogation instantly ceased; the surrounding specters were dismissed, and the book boys were summoned into the hall.

One book boy’s face drained of color. “I have brought calamity upon myself for your sake, Tutor,” he whispered before trembling into the great hall. The King of Hell roared, “How dare you bring a mortal here to spy!” He seized a massive whip and brought it down heavily upon the boy. Once the punishment was complete, he finally summoned Han Yuanshao, saying, “The reason I avoided meeting you, Master Scholar, is simply because the paths of men and ghosts must remain separate. Now that my identity is revealed, we can no longer consort.” As he spoke, he took out silver taels and pressed them into Han’s hand. “Your innate talent is extraordinary, the finest in the realm. However, your tribulations are not yet finished, and prosperity eludes you for the time being.” He called a servant dressed in green and commanded, “Escort the Master home.”

The green-clad servant obeyed and helped Han Yuanshao mount his horse. Han Yuanshao asked faintly, “Have I died?” The servant replied, “Certainly not! Your food, drink, and clothing are all earthly provisions, belonging nothing to the realm of the dead.”

Later, Han Yuanshao endured many hardships, eventually achieving the rank of Metropolitan Graduate and then Top Scholar, his future unfolding exactly as the King of Hell had foretold.