I Can Strengthen Infinitely

Mighty Chang’an, the ancient capital steeped in history, surviving thirty dynasties and seventeen kingdoms—built, then repaired, then rebuilt again. When it comes to splendor and majesty, it’s surely unique in all the land.

Though turbulence plagued three regions, since Sanhuang took up residence in Chang’an, the city, once under the iron grip of the Ten Eunuchs leaving all in constant fear, was soon thoroughly purged. The various eunuch factions and their lackeys were wiped out one by one, restoring peace to Chang’an at last.

So, the nightly curfew was lifted, night markets revived, and Chang’an’s evenings gradually transformed into a city that never sleeps.

Compared to other places, the Great Tang seemed a pure haven in an era of peace and prosperity.

Bilu Restaurant.

With the curfew gone, establishments like the restaurant instantly became the most bustling spots in Chang’an’s nightlife. People of all walks, from the lowest rogues to the noblest families, gathered here, drinking without stopping until drunk.

"There’ve been strange happenings in Chang’an lately. Did you hear about that business at the Wang Clan’s prosperous shop a few days ago?"

"Wang Clan’s prosperous shop? You mean the fabric store by the East Gate?"

"Exactly. Come closer, let me tell you the details."

At the table, a middle-aged man with a goatee waved his hand, speaking in a mysterious and hushed tone.

His face was flushed red, his gaze unsettled, his words trembling, and his hands shaking—clearly, he’d had too much to drink.

The others sensed there was more to the tale and instantly leaned in, eager to listen and learn.

"A few days ago, the Shopkeeper’s wife from the Wang Clan’s shop, for reasons unknown, leapt from the third-floor window clutching a wooden figurine. She hit the ground with a bloodied, broken head—a pitiful sight, I tell you."

Someone beside him immediately asked, "Why would she jump holding a wooden doll?"

"That’s what’s so strange. The Shopkeeper and his wife have always been devoted, so no matter what quarrel they had, it was hardly enough to drive one of them to this. Yet, witnesses say, after Mrs. Wang fell, she still wore a smile, her eyes fixed on the wooden figure in her arms."

"Hiss!"

At this, everyone shivered involuntarily. Though none grasped all the details, the tale alone made their skin crawl.

"That wooden figure... was there something special about it?" someone pressed.

"Just an ordinary human-shaped wooden doll. No face, no features. Yet there was something wicked about it. Don’t know who made it, but it was damn eerie. I’m warning you: in recent days, whatever you do, don’t touch any wooden figures or anything like them. Several spirit mediums in Chang’an City say such things are cursed."

"Oh, oh."

Though all were well drunk, they took these words to heart.

Midnight, dead of night.

Soon, it was time to part ways. They said their goodbyes and each set off for home.

"Hic!" Entering an alley, one man braced himself against the wall, moving slowly forward.

He’d walked this lane for years. Even with eyes closed, he could find his way home. But tonight, having drunk too much, his head was spinning and his steps were shaky.

Anyone who saw him would know at once—just a drunkard who’d had too much.

Crack!

Suddenly, he felt something catch beneath his foot. Off balance, he pitched forward and crashed to the ground—a heavy fall, face-first. Blood oozed from both nostrils.

"Who the hell—no decency at all, leaving junk around!" he cursed, sitting up in a rage. But under the moonlight, seeing what lay before him, his eyes froze and disbelief washed over his face.

This—this was a wooden figure!

Hard to imagine why a wooden doll would be lying in such a spot—he knew there wasn’t a woodworker’s shop anywhere nearby.

In a flash, his mind snapped to the story his friend had just told.

Could it be...

"Ah!" Without hesitation, he kicked the wooden doll away and scrambled forward on all fours. Even drunk, he moved with surprising speed and left the wooden doll far behind before long.

Turning a corner, he pressed against the wall, gasping for breath. He didn’t linger, instead hurrying forward again. Only after reaching home would he feel safe.

Yet...

Crack!

Tripping once more over something unknown, he tumbled hard. His already-injured nose took another blow. He looked back—

Another wooden figure!

How could he possibly encounter two wooden dolls in a row? Terror surged through his heart.

Something’s wrong! Something’s definitely wrong!

The strange tale had come to life—right before him.

Without a second thought, he scrambled up again and ran forward, running, running...

The next day.

Shi Lang was a "Gold Transport Official"—which sounded lofty, but really just meant carting away people’s piss and shit buckets. The work was hard, filthy, and exhausting, but paid well. After all, few were willing to do it.

At daybreak, with the sky just lightening, Shi Lang, alone, dragged his cart, loaded with two full buckets of "cargo." Such filth certainly couldn’t be disposed of within Chang’an, so a designated person had to haul it outside the city to dump at a common site.