My grandfather was named Hu Guohua. The Hu family ancestors were once renowned great landlords across ten miles of villages, reaching their zenith when they acquired over forty interconnected residences spanning three hutongs in the city. Over the generations, some had served as officials or merchants, even donating to the Qing Dynasty's grain administration and transportation departments as auxiliaries.

The folk saying goes: "Wealth never lasts beyond three generations." This adage holds considerable truth; even a mountain of gold and silver cannot withstand the squandering of spendthrift descendants.

By the Republican era, the family fortunes began to decline by the time it reached my grandfather's generation. The family estate was first divided, and Hu Guohua received a considerable inheritance, enough to live comfortably for the rest of his life without worry. However, he stubbornly refused to mend his ways—though the social climate of the time certainly played a part. First, he became addicted to gambling, and later, he took up the "Bliss and Longevity Paste" (opium), squandering his vast fortune entirely.

In his youth, Hu Guohua indulged in all five vices: drinking, womanizing, gambling, and smoking. In the end, he was so destitute that he didn't possess a single copper coin to his name. When a man is gripped by the craving for opium, the torment is unbearable, but when you have no money, who will serve you? In his wealthy days, the proprietors and clerks at the opium dens addressed him respectfully as "Master Hu," catering to his every whim. But once he was penniless, they treated him like a filthy beggar, shooing him away as quickly as possible.

When a person is driven mad by poverty, concepts like integrity and morality cease to matter. Hu Guohua devised a plan: he would go cheat some money out of his maternal uncle. Hu Guohua’s uncle knew he was a wastrel and an opium addict, so he usually wouldn't give him even a penny. But this time, Hu Guohua lied to his uncle, saying he needed to get married and asking his uncle to scrape together some funds.

Upon hearing this, the uncle was moved to tears. Finally, this unfilial nephew was doing something proper! If he married a virtuous wife who could manage him well and settle his heart, perhaps he could still reform in the future.

So, the uncle gave him twenty silver dollars, urging him to marry a wife and settle down properly, imploring him never to touch the Bliss and Longevity Paste again. He even promised to visit Hu Guohua’s home in a few days to meet his new daughter-in-law.

Hu Guohua was notoriously cunning. To manage his uncle, he went back to the village and found a craftsman who specialized in making paper effigies and horses—the kind burned for the deceased. This paper artisan was exceptionally skilled; he could craft anything you described with startling lifelikeness.

Following instructions, the artisan made a woman figure for Hu Guohua, constructed entirely of white paper and pasted layers. He then used watercolors to paint eyebrows, eyes, nose, clothes, and hair onto the figure. From a distance, it truly looked like a living person.

Hu Guohua carried the paper figure home and placed it on the kang (heated brick bed) in the inner room, covering it with a quilt. His plan was perfectly laid out: when his uncle arrived in a few days, he would claim his wife was ill and confined to bed, unable to receive guests, allowing the uncle only a quick glimpse from afar. Feeling pleased with himself, he hummed a little tune and sauntered into the city to smoke opium.

A few days later, the uncle arrived, bearing gifts of colorful cloth and pastries for his new niece. Hu Guohua proceeded with his prepared excuse, saying his wife felt unwell and could not see visitors, letting the uncle peek behind the doorway curtain before quickly dropping it again.

The uncle objected. "Oh, so you treat your own mother's brother this way? Unacceptable! I must see the new bride today. If she is sick, I will pay to call a doctor for her."

Hu Guohua desperately tried to block him, but the more he resisted, the more suspicious the uncle became. An argument erupted. Just then, the curtain to the inner room was lifted, and a woman emerged. She was fair-skinned, with a large face, ample hips, and small feet. Hu Guohua’s heart lurched. Oh no, isn't that the paper figure I had made? How did it come alive?

The woman bowed respectfully to the uncle. "I apologize for not coming out sooner to greet you, Uncle. I haven't been feeling well recently. But I suddenly feel much better now. Please allow me to stay and prepare a simple meal for you today." With that, she turned and went into the back to cook.

The uncle was overjoyed at the sight. What an exceedingly virtuous daughter-in-law, possessing the very look that promised prosperity! If his deceased sister could see from the netherworld that her son had married such a fine woman, she would surely be happy. Elated, the uncle gave Hu Guohua another ten silver dollars.

Hu Guohua stood frozen, his mind in turmoil—he didn't know whether to feel relieved or terrified. Time passed quickly until evening arrived. The white paper figure had set out a table full of food. The uncle was so delighted his mouth couldn't close, but Hu Guohua had no appetite. He stared at the woman sitting opposite him and felt a profound nausea, as if he had swallowed a fly. Her face was stark white, devoid of color; the rosy complexion was clearly painted on with rouge.

The uncle, being old and dim-sighted, noticed nothing amiss with the woman. After seven or eight cups of strong wine, he was completely inebriated. Hu Guohua borrowed a donkey cart and sent him home.

On the way back, Hu Guohua grew increasingly frightened by his predicament. He decided not to go home at all, instead heading straight to the notorious pleasure quarters in the city for the night. He gambled and patronized prostitutes until the ten silver dollars his uncle had just given him were completely gone.

Finally, he was thrown out for failing to pay his bill. With nowhere to go, he had no choice but to trudge back home. When he arrived, the house was dark. The white paper figure was lying motionless on the kang, covered by the quilt, as if everything that had happened earlier had never occurred.

Hu Guohua thought, What if she turns into a living person again tonight? It would be best to just burn her now and be done with it. He carried the paper figure into the courtyard, pulled out his flint striker, and was about to ignite it when the figure suddenly spoke: "You heartless wretch! I tried so hard to help you, and now you want to burn me!"

Hu Guohua started violently. In the dead of night, he heard the voice of the paper-pasted woman continue: "I pitied you. Though you engage in drink, women, gambling, and smoking, your heart isn't entirely bad. I wish to marry you. Will you accept?"

Hu Guohua shook his head frantically and asked the figure, "Are you a demon or a ghost?" The paper figure replied, "Of course I am a ghost, temporarily attached to this paper shell. But don't you disdain me, you pauper. I was very wealthy when I was alive; the gold and jewelry buried with me are enough for you to smoke opium for ten lifetimes. Haven't you heard that a rich ghost is a hundred times better than a poor man?"

The mention of money stirred Hu Guohua, as he had recently been unbearably poor, even pawning all his clothes. However, he didn't want to gain wealth only to lose his life enjoying it. He had heard elders speak of female ghosts luring men, draining their vital energy until all that remained was a desiccated skeleton wrapped in skin. So he told the paper figure, "Even if you are truly sincere toward me, I cannot marry you. After all, the path of man and ghost are separate, divided by yin and yang. Doing so defies the Heavenly Way."

The white paper figure said, "Since your heart is so stony, I will not force you. But mark my words, you will regret this day sooner or later. Remember this: if your life ever reaches a point where you cannot survive due to poverty, come find me at the desolate graves near Thirteen-Mile Post. In the very center of that graveyard is a lonely tomb with no headstone. The coffin inside holds my remains, and within it are heaps of gold and jewels. If you dare to come, take whatever treasure you need to spend."

With that, the white paper figure became completely still. Hu Guohua, summoning his courage, lit a torch and burned the paper woman to ashes.

Later, there were several times when he was so desperately poor that he considered going to the Thirteen-Mile Post to dig up the grave, but each time he managed to hold back, borrowing and scraping by to keep living. Two years later, having exhausted all means and facing utter ruin, he finally made his way to that graveyard. But that is a story for another time; let us leave it there for now.