A certain Wang Qiming, formally of the riverside town of Wuyuan, decided to relocate his household farther up the river to an officer's lodge. This lodge had previously been the home of Qiming's clansman, a licensed scholar by the name of Wang Po.
One night in April 1774 Wang woke from a long and drawn-out nightmare to find a ghost pressing up against his bed curtains. This ghost was so huge that its head brushed the ceiling. But Wang was a brave and daring fellow, and he sprang up and launched a fierce attack on the ghost.
The terrified creature hastened to the door, but in its panic it crashed into the wall instead. Wang instantly seized the ghost round the waist and pinned it against the wall.
Instantly, an icy wind gusted up, extinguishing the bedside candles. When Wang turned back to look at the captured ghost its face had disappeared. Wang's hands were chilled to the bone, but he kept them clutched tightly around the ghost's trunklike midriff. He tried to call out to alert the household to his predicament but found himself paralyzed by the ghostly chill and unable to utter a sound.
Eventually Wang mustered all his strength and managed to scream for help. By the time his kinsfolk arrived the ghost had shrunk to the size of a newborn baby. A candle was brought over, and to everyone's surprise, clutched in Wang's hands was nothing more than a bundle of silk wadding.
At that instant the house was showered with broken bricks thrown from outside the bedroom window. Wang's kinsfolk were terrified at this display of ghostly wrath and begged Wang to release his grip on the wad of silk.
Wang laughed in reply. "Ghosts run around scaring people, but they're all bluff and bluster. What can they actually do to us? If I release this ghost, then I'd be rewarding the mischievous bullying of its