Translated from Konjaku Monogatari
There was a samurai living in poverty in the capitol, who was suddenly summoned to the service of a Lord of a distant land. The samurai eagerly accepted the offer, but abandoned his wife of many years in favor of taking another woman he desired along with him.
When his responsibilities to the Lord had finished, the samurai returned to the capitol and found himself longing for his old wife. He went that night to the old house where they had once lived. It was midnight, and the full autumn moon bathed the home in light. The gate was open, and the samurai entered his old dwelling only to find his much-missed wife sitting silently by herself.
She showed neither anger nor resentment towards her husband for his ill-use of her, but instead offered him greetings and welcomed him back after his long time away.
The samurai, overcome with emotion, swore to his wife that they would live together from now on and never be parted. Pleased by the happiness this brought to his wife’s face, the samurai embraced her and they held each other until sleep took them.
The samurai was woken in the morning by the bright morning sun that battered the house more harshly than had the previous autumn moon. He looked about himself, and found that instead of embracing his wife he was holding a dry corpse, nothing but bits of flesh clinging to bone wrapped in long black hair.
He leapt to his feet and rushed into the neighbors house;
“What happened to the woman who lived next door?”
“Her? She was abandoned by her husband long ago, and died of an illness brought on by her sorrow. It was just this summer that she died. Because there was no one to care for her or give her a funeral, her body lays still where she died.”