The Lin Tian Valley Guanban section — Beware the water-dwelling “grab-and-switch” ghost spirit, newcomers not welcome

Written by Zi Buyu  Photos from Wikipedia

This is a personal experience I went through myself.

Many ghost stories originate from mountain forests and wild streams. Some say there are “mountain spirits” in the hills, while by the streams lurk water ghosts that have been “grabbing and switching” victims for millennia. That’s why elders often warn the young to be extra cautious when venturing into these places, and to avoid certain days of the year no matter what — don’t be stubborn, because danger isn’t only lurking in the mountains, but also in the water. There, too, an “opportunity” might just be waiting for you.

I still remember how sticky and humid that summer was during my fourth grade of elementary school — it made everyone want to jump into the water just to cool off. So, my family and neighbors planned a trip to a wild stream. We headed to Guanban, a well-known wild stream destination in central Taiwan — one of our family’s secret spots. We were all pretty familiar with the place. After winding through the mountain roads, we followed the staircase that descended along the mountainside to a suspension bridge. Once across, a naturally formed swimming pool came into view.

In the middle of the wild stream was a large moss-covered rock, just the right size and depth for kids to use as a plaything. As a result, adults and children often gathered around it, forming a line to take turns sliding across the rock. Further in was a deep diving area that seemed bottomless. Small groups of youths climbed up the rocky cliffs to try their hand at cliff jumping. As for me, I was perfectly content just sliding on the rocks and splashing around in the water, which was more than enough to beat the heat.

I don’t remember which turn it was or how many times I’d slid down the rock, but the moment I slid down this time, I suddenly felt something tugging at my leg. My first thought was not to block anyone else’s path, so I tried to get away from the “scene,” but it was as if I were completely rooted to the spot, and my head remained underwater, unable to surface for air.

As I began kicking hard, the grip on my leg in the water only tightened. With more and more water filling my mouth, my strength to struggle grew weaker and weaker. When I turned my head to see what was grabbing my foot, a pale, bloated hand suddenly appeared before my eyes.

I tried to scream for help, but only ended up swallowing more water, using up oxygen even faster. I don’t know how long I struggled, but eventually, a tourist wearing a yellow swim ring reached out and pulled me up. When I managed to stand upright, I realized the water here was only knee-deep.

Later, I heard that when a “grab-and-switch” is taking place, if any non-target person comes close, it disrupts the magnetic field of the ritual, causing the grab-and-switch to fail. But to this day, I’ve never been able to find that tourist who pulled me to safety to thank her. Still, because of that terrifying experience, I no longer venture into unfamiliar terrains carelessly — and even when I do, I’m extra cautious.