In Anyang county a man named Yang ran an inn. He had a daughter married to a Deng of Tangyin, a peddler with a poor family. Yang’s wife, Du, often gave the Dengs money and goods.
Yang kept several dozen ounces of silver in a locked chest. His wife wanted to take a little of it to give her son-in-law for travelling expenses, but could not find the chance.
One day a neighbour invited Yang out to drink. His wife watched him leave, opened the chest, tried several keys, got it open at last, and took the silver out. Then she heard Yang coming back suddenly.
In her haste she put the silver in her coat, shut the chest and locked it, and got up. But with the silver in her hand there was nowhere to hide it, so she went and buried it in the earth of the back garden.
That night Yang opened the chest and found the silver gone. He knew his wife had taken it, suspected she had given it to a lover, and cursed her a hundred ways. In her extremity she waited until he was asleep and hanged herself.
After she died her ghost haunted the house. Yang could not live in it, and sold it and moved far away.
Before she died, Deng had already taken his wife to Hubei to live with his uncle. The uncle ran a sauce workshop, was over sixty and childless, and was delighted to see his nephew — he adopted him as his son, and the couple stepped from there into comfort.
Some years later Yang’s daughter missed her parents and sent her husband to visit them. Deng packed his bedroll and went. The old house stood as before, but the master had changed. It was already dusk, Deng was tired, and he wanted to stay the night.
The owner said: “The guest rooms are full. Only the two beams of the back hall — that one is said to have a ghost, and it troubles travellers, so it has been shut up ever since and nobody sleeps there.”
Deng said: “This house used to belong to my father-in-law. I know every corner of it. What ghost? And even if there were one, a single night will not matter.”
The owner agreed. He brought a lamp, opened the door, set up a bed and swept the dust, and Deng spread his quilt, took off his shoes, and lay down without undressing.
At midnight he heard a sobbing from the west corner of the hall. He got up quickly and looked: a female ghost with loose hair and a dirty face, leaning forward to throw herself on him.
Deng ran barefoot. Luckily there was a small square table in the middle of the hall, and he used it to screen himself. The ghost went east and he went west, the ghost went south and he went north. He was desperate enough to shout but could not make a sound.
He saw the courtyard moon white as daylight, and ran and stood in the moonlight. The ghost chased him and dared not touch him there, only stared at him with both eyes fixed.
The moon moved an inch and the man stepped back an inch, the ghost came an inch nearer. The moon moved a foot and the man stepped back a foot, the ghost came a foot nearer. The moon rose above the courtyard wall, and Deng stood with his back to it.
Presently the moon came down to his knees, and the ghost crouched and reached for his foot.
Deng sighed. “To think that Deng should die like this!”
The ghost let go at once. “Who are you?”
“I am Deng of Tangyin.”
“My son-in-law! Why did you not say so earlier? I nearly killed you by mistake.” And she told him how she had died, and where she had buried the silver. “Before it gets light and anyone knows, take the silver and go. The reason I have been haunting this house is to guard that money and wait for you. Now my last wish is discharged, and I will not haunt it again.”
She went back towards the west corner of the hall and vanished.
Deng went and dug in the earth and found the silver. He took it home, put it into business, and his family grew comfortably off.
