Yang Er of Hangzhou was skilled in the martial arts and particularly adept with his fists and his staff. One summer night while he was sitting in the cool of a rocky outcrop on a small seat carved out of the stone, he saw a tiny head emerging from a crack in a nearby rock. The hair appeared first and the face quietly followed.
The terrified Yang Er grabbed his staff and struck the protruding head, which quickly popped back into its little crevice.
While Yang Er was in his room the next day, he heard the clickclack of clogs from the floor below. He was pretty sure that this was no thief, since thieves would not be so foolish as to wear clogs. It wasn't long before the click-clack noise came up the staircase towards Yang Er's room.
At the doorway there appeared a man dressed from head to toe in white. He wore a tall hat and in his hand he held a box lantern. When the man in white saw Yang Er, he burst into a raucous cackle.
Confronted with this creature, Yang Er promptly struck him with an iron ruler, causing him to topple backwards down the staircase.
The man in white shouted angrily back up the stairs, "You call that a good thrashing! Well, wait till I get my gang onto you. Then I'll show you a thing or two!"
Yang Er called his disciples together and told them of the threats made against him by the ghost. These rascally disciples roared with indignation and bravado. "So what if they've formed a gang? So have we! We'll defend out master! We'll go up there and beat the living daylights out of them!" they cried.
The men first had themselves a feast, eating and drinking until they were satisfied. Finally they grabbed their weapons and headed upstairs to Yang Er's room. The ghosts, however, were nowhere to be seen.