Mr. Song Yushu of Laiyang, while serving as a Bucao (a minor official in the central government), rented a house that was very desolate and rundown. One night, two maids attended the Tai furen (the elderly madam, Mr. Song’s mother) in the main hall, where they were staying overnight. Suddenly, they heard a flapping, sputtering sound from the courtyard, like a tailor spitting water onto clothes (a common method of moistening fabric for ironing).
The old madam urged the maids to get up and peep through a hole in the window. They saw an old crone, short in stature and hunchbacked, with hair as white as a broom. She wore her hair in a topknot about two feet long. She paced around the courtyard, now fast, now slow, in a gait like a crane’s, and as she walked she spouted water from her mouth in an unending stream.
The maids were stunned and went back to report what they had seen. The old madam rose in alarm, and the two maids supported her to stand by the window, where they all peered out together. Suddenly the crone dashed up to the window and sprayed water straight through the lattice. The window paper burst apart, and all three collapsed to the ground. None of the other household members knew of this.
When the morning sun (Dongxi – the Eastern Aurora) had risen, the whole family gathered and knocked at the door but received no answer. Alarmed, they pried open the door and found the old madam and the two maids lying dead together in the room. One maid was still warm beneath her diaphragm; they propped her up and poured broth down her throat. After a while she revived and recounted what she had seen.
When Mr. Song arrived, he was overwhelmed with grief and anger, wishing to die himself. He made a careful search for the place where the crone had disappeared. They dug more than three feet deep and gradually uncovered white hair. Digging further, they unearthed a corpse, exactly matching the description given by the maid – the face was plump and swollen, yet lifelike. He ordered it to be beaten; the flesh and bones all rotted away, and inside the skin was nothing but clear water.
Note
This tale is a classic ghost story that plays on domestic settings and the horror of the familiar turning monstrous. It also reflects the traditional belief that the spirits of the wrongfully dead could return to haunt the living, and that physical remains, if not properly handled, could retain sinister powers.
Bucao (部曹):
In the Ming and Qing dynasties, this was a general term for mid‑level functionaries in the six ministries of the central government. It was a clerical or administrative post, not a high-ranking one. The title indicates that Mr. Song was a government official posted away from his hometown.
Tai furen (太夫人):
An honorific term for the mother of a high official or a scholar‑official. It conveys respect and seniority within the household, often translated as “the old madam” or “the lady dowager.”
“Tailor spitting water” (缝工之喷衣):
Before the advent of steam irons, Chinese tailors moistened cloth by taking a mouthful of water and spraying it in a fine mist over the fabric, then ironing it with a heavy flatiron. This detail gives the sound a familiar, domestic quality, which contrasts sharply with the eerie scene that follows.
Crane‑like gait (鹤步):
In traditional Chinese culture, the crane is a symbol of immortality and elegant bearing. Describing the crone’s walking as “crane‑stepping” suggests an unnatural, supernatural quality – it is both graceful and eerily mechanical, reinforcing that she is not human.
Dongxi (东曦 – “Eastern Aurora”):
A literary term for the rising sun, derived from ancient Chinese mythology. Xi (曦) was the name of the sun‑chariot driver, and by extension it came to mean morning sunlight. Here it simply indicates dawn.
Three feet (三尺):
The traditional Chinese chi (foot) was about one‑third of a meter, so “three feet” is roughly one meter. This depth is significant because it suggests the corpse was deliberately buried just below the surface, not in a formal grave.
The final revelation:
The corpse filled with water and the fact that it crumbles into liquid upon beating strongly imply it was a jiangshi (stiff corpse) or a water‑ghost – a malignant entity associated with moisture, decay, and vengeance. In Chinese folklore, such beings often result from improper burial or violent death, and they have the power to spout water to harm the living.
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