A Record of Late-Night Ghost Stories

Night falls, and candlelight flickers.

On the old wooden table, a yellowed, brittle ledger lies open, waiting for a fresh page to be filled with ink.

There is no deliberately manufactured horror here, only one strange tale after another, recounted by those who experienced them and passed down among the people.

They hide among rural burial mounds and ruined old shrines, mingling with the bustle of the marketplace and the noise of everyday life. There are taboos that old people repeat over and over on their deathbeds, mysterious "playmates" described in vivid detail by children, and bizarre encounters travelers have at lonely roadside inns. Every tale carries the earthy tang of the soil and the weight of time. They sound absurd, yet in the eyes of those who tell them lies a truth and fear too difficult to put into words.

With my pen as a guide, I copy into this ledger these strange accounts, buried by time and shunned by the world, one by one. I do not deliberately embellish or force exaggeration. I simply preserve the experiences as they were: encounters that defy rational explanation, terrifying moments that violate common sense, and ordinary details that send a chill down your spine when you think about them.

Open this ledger, and you will see folk tales of the strange in their most original, unadorned form. Secrets hidden in folk customs, strange accounts passed along the streets and alleys, one after another, slowly unfold across the pages. May you have the courage to open it, and may you understand what lies behind these tales: the human heart, reverence, and the past that can never be spoken of.

It is late at night, and the candle flame flickers faintly.

Why not settle in and let me slowly finish telling you these strange tales known to no one?