Madam Wangliu went to the temple to pray to the Buddhist, and then she went home with her empty basket.
There was a distance between her house and the temple, and she had to cross a river first.
There weren't many people living next to the river; it was a shortcut, but people rarely walked this way.
She used to walk alone, but she found that something was weird after walking a few meters forward.
She felt like someone was following her, she turned around, but no one was there.
The uncomfortable feeling made her walk faster, but she still had the same feeling no matter how fast she walked.
When she sped up, the thing following her sped up too, and when she slowed down, the thing slowed down too.
Humans were afraid of suspicions the most; sometimes, nothing happened, but doubts would kill them.
Madam Wangliu slipped into the river as she was too scared to watch where she was going.

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“Hel…Help.” Madam Wangliu waved her arms in the water and tried to call for help, but the more she screamed, the more she drank water.
It didn't take long before she drowned completely; there was nothing in the river but an empty bamboo basket flowing on the surface.

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Madan Wangliu's body was found three days later.
Her body floated on the surface, and she was so swollen that her body was twice her original size.
Her husband wasn't sad when he saw it; he simply muttered, “How did she die?” He questioned who was going to cook and wash clothes for him after his wife died, and it was too troublesome to hold a funeral.
He was afraid that people would judge him as amoral and talk behind his back; eventually, he held a funeral with his wife's family and his family's financial support.

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Therefore, Zhao Tianhu and Su Qing'e's story became more and more mysterious.
Someone said Zhao Tianhu and Su Qing'e became demonic spirits, and they came back to seek revenge on those who disrespected them.
Madam Wangliu was the best example; she just talked badly about Su Qing'e and got drowned in the river.
Half of the people in town thought it was suspicious, and the only person who didn't believe it was Li Bandian.
Li Bandian was a monk over fifty years old, but no one knew which temple he belonged to and where he originated.
They only knew that he came here thirty years ago, no one was close to him, and he didn't like socializing with others.
He helped families with religious rituals to earn some money for living, and he bought alcohol if he had extra money.
He loved drinking, and he always drank until he was drunk; he was a Daoist Priest who prioritized alcohol over his life.

On this day, Li Bandian was drinking in a tavern.
He heard people discussing Zhao Tianhu and Su Qing'e's story about how Madam Wangliu was killed by their ghosts.
Li Bandian laughed and walked over to that table with half a bottle of liquor; he banged the table and said, “Nonsense! That Madam Wangliu killed herself!”

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“Go away, you stinky priest.
What we're talking about has nothing to do with you.” A young master looked at him with disdain and chased Li Bandian away.
Not only did Li Bandian not leave, but he even sat down opposite the man and cursed, “All of you just love talking about people behind their backs.
Karma is coming!”

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“You are crazy!” The young man saw that Li Bandian didn't leave; he put money on the table and left.
Li Bandian sat there until the other two men left, then he stood up wobbly.
The staff at the tavern knew he was drunk, and they didn't stop him from leaving.

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