Sun Taibai once relayed a story about his great-grandfather, who had studied at Liugou Temple in the southern mountains.
Returning home during the wheat harvest season, he stayed for about ten days. When he reopened the door to his study, dust covered the desk and cobwebs filled the window frames. He ordered a servant to clean, and by evening, the room was finally refreshed enough to inhabit. After arranging his bedding on the couch, he lay down with the moonlight flooding through the window.
He tossed and turned as all sounds gradually faded into silence. Suddenly, a rumbling wind arose, and the temple gate burst open with a crash. He assumed the monks had failed to latch it. While pondering this, the wind drew nearer to his dwelling. Then, his own door flew open!
Puzzled and unsettled, he heard heavy footsteps—clank, clank—approaching his bedroom door. Fear gripped him. The bedroom door swung open next. Instantly, a towering spectre hunched through the doorway and abruptly stood before his bed, nearly touching the roof beam. Its face resembled the dark-green rind of an old melon, eyes flickering like sparks as it scanned the room. It opened a basin-sized mouth, revealing sparse teeth about three inches long. Its tongue writhed, throat rumbling, filling the walls with rasping howls. Frozen in terror, Sun realized escape was impossible in such close quarters—striking was his only chance.
Secretly drawing the sword from beneath his pillow, he suddenly leaped up and slashed at the demon, striking its belly with a sound like hitting a stone jar. Enraged, the spectre stretched out a giant claw to seize him. Sun shrank back. The creature grabbed his quilt instead, snatched it away, and stormed off. Sun tumbled to the floor with the quilt’s pull, wailing as he lay prostrate.
Family members rushed over with torches only to find the door still shut. They broke through the window and, horrified by Sun’s state, hauled him onto the bed where he recounted the ordeal. Upon inspection, the quilt was found wedged in the bedroom doorway. They pried open the door and examined it: huge, basket-sized claw marks pierced the wood where five finger-tips had gouged through.
At dawn, Sun dared not stay. He gathered his books and fled home. Later inquiries to the monks revealed no further disturbances.
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