This is a story my dad told me when I was a kid. The main guy in it was his sworn brother—someone I called Third Uncle.
Third Uncle served in the army in the Yimeng Mountains when he was young. In the 1970s, he got transferred back to Qingdao with his unit and was stationed in Cuobuling. The army gave him a small bungalow—brand new, built right after he got transferred. He cleaned it up a bit and moved in. The first few days were totally fine, nice and quiet. But before long, weird stuff started going down.
One night, he heard this "thump-thump-thump" noise, like someone tapping on the floor. At first, he thought it was coming from next door, but when he listened closely, he realized it was inside his own place. He looked around, and guess what? The little small stool in the corner was jumping all by itself! Thump, thump—hitting the floor every time. Even weirder, as soon as he flipped on the light, the noise stopped dead. The small stool just sat there quiet, like nothing had happened.
That scared Third Uncle half to death. He didn't dare turn the light off all night, just lay there wide awake until sunrise. First thing the next morning, he ran to tell his company commander. Now, that commander was an old Red Army vet—guy had crawled out of piles of dead bodies before. He didn't believe in ghosts or goblins one bit, and he chewed Third Uncle out right then and there: "You coward! A soldier scared of some silly nonsense? You're just making this up!" He said being in the army so long had actually made Third Uncle lose his nerve.
But Third Uncle was really spooked. He kept insisting he wasn't lying, going into all the details. The commander couldn't stand him bugging him, so he finally gave in. He patted the gun at his waist and said: "Fine, I'll come with you tonight! I'm bringing my gun. Let's see what ghost or monster dares to mess around here!"
That night, the two of them had a little wine with dinner, then lay down on the bed—but neither of them could really fall asleep. Around midnight, that "thump-thump-thump" noise came again! By the moonlight shining through the window, both of them saw it clear as day: the little small stool in the corner was bouncing up and down, one jump at a time! This time, even the commander—who'd seen his share of tough stuff—turned pale. He didn't say a word for ages.
First thing the next morning, the commander didn't waste any time—he called the engineering company over right away. A bunch of guys gathered around the small bungalow and started digging along the wall. After digging about two meters deep, the shovel hit something hard. When they cleaned it off, turns out it was a rotting coffin—and get this: the jumping small stool was right above it! They opened the coffin, and inside was a mummified body wearing clothes from the Qing Dynasty.
Back in those days, nobody cared about protecting cultural relics, and no one took this kind of thing seriously. They figured the house and the small stool were just pressing down on the guy's grave. So they found an open spot, burned the coffin and the mummified body together. After that, no more weird stuff happened in that bungalow. Third Uncle lived there for a few more years, and only moved out when he left the army and got a civilian job.