Chapter 38: Steward Zhou Fell into the Latrine Pit. When Zhou Ming arrived at the courtyard outside the back door of the Kitchen, the area around the water well was completely empty, save for a calico cat crouching on the edge of the well, licking its paws.

The utility servant who usually fetched water was carrying two buckets on a shoulder pole, walking toward the gate.

Seeing Zhou Ming stride in, before he could even greet him, he saw the steward already starting to undo the frog buttons on his collar.

The utility servant froze for a moment, then with extreme decisiveness, quickly turned and walked out of the courtyard, closing the gate behind him.

Zhou Ming stripped himself naked in no time, drew several buckets of ice-cold well water, and poured them straight over his head.

The well water hit his skin, making him shiver, but compared to the sticky residue remaining on his body, that coolness was like a life-saving rain.

The layer of black grime that had seeped from his pores was washed away by the well water, forming streams of light gray water on the ground that flowed into the drainage ditch through the cracks in the stone slabs.

He poured several more buckets of water over himself repeatedly, and only when there wasn't a single trace of stickiness left on his body did he let out a long sigh of relief.

After washing, he was clean all over, his skin smooth and refreshed, with every inch of muscle exuding an indescribable sense of clarity.

It was an unprecedented feeling, like having just fully recovered from a long, severe flu, or like shedding a suit of armor that had been worn for over a decade without being washed.

Using the well water, he also washed his filthy clothes, and once done, Zhou Ming slipped the wet garments back on.

Grabbing two cornbread buns from the Kitchen and stuffing them into his shirt, he didn't even wait for Liu Sandao to call him for dinner before heading straight back to his quarters.

Back inside his room, Zhou Ming bolted the door behind him and sat cross-legged on the wooden bed.

The warm current in his Dantian was still continuously pouring in, though the manner of its influx had changed.

No longer was it hundreds or thousands of streams pouring in simultaneously; instead, it had returned to its initial state—surging in one stream after another at steady intervals, unhurried yet endless.

However, to the twelve-inch Dao Platform floating steadily in his Dantian, these individual warm currents could no longer be considered much of an impact.

The moment each warm current appeared at the edge of his Dantian, it would be automatically drawn in by the Dao Platform, like tiny droplets merging into a deep pool, unable to kick up even a single splash.

Zhou Ming sank his consciousness into the space between his brows, focusing his mind to inspect the Causality Web.

That Causality Web, which had once been so overwhelmingly dense that it could trigger trypophobia, had become sparse once again.

Large, gaping voids appeared in various areas, the number of vacancies even more shocking than the last time.

Looking at the sparse Causality Web, Zhou Ming fell silent for a moment, silently calculating a rough estimate in his mind.

Judging by the density and distribution of the broken Causal Chains, a conservative estimate of the death toll this time was at least in the tens of thousands.

He could be one hundred percent certain of one thing:

A war had broken out.

For tens of thousands of Cultivators to die at once, it could not be a Jianghu vendetta, nor a clash between noble families, and certainly not the extermination of a clan.

In this world, the only thing that could cause casualties on this scale was war.

Moreover, a war of such magnitude must be taking place far beyond the reach of his current sources of information.

After pondering for a moment, he tossed these thoughts to the back of his mind.

No matter where this war was happening, who was fighting whom, or which side was dying, it was not something he could interfere with at his current level.

The most useful thing he could do right now was to mind his own business and keep his own little life safe.

Pulling his attention back, Zhou Ming began attempting to release his Divine Sense.

The sensation of releasing his Divine Sense for the first time was incredibly marvelous.

Although his eyes were clearly still staring at the wall opposite him, his consciousness had already "seen" every single corner of the room.

The teacup on the table, with a small ring of leftover cold tea from the morning still remaining at the bottom.

The smooth mark on the door bolt, worn down from being slid back and forth countless times.

The crack between the bricks under his bed where he hid his silver, where even the loose dirt filling the gaps around each brick was clearly discernible.

Within the range swept by his Divine Sense, not a single minute detail could escape his perception.

With his eyes closed, Zhou Ming swept his Divine Sense through the room, inch by inch.

As he scanned, he suddenly discovered something he had never known about before.

A wooden box was buried in the dirt beneath the cabinet.

The box was buried between broken bricks and rammed earth, covered with a thin layer of loose soil, showing absolutely no visible trace on the surface.

Zhou Ming rolled out of bed, shifted the cabinet half a foot to the side, fished out an old shovel from under the bed, pried open the layer of loose soil, and dug out the wooden box.

The wooden box was not large but felt heavy, its iron clasp already covered in rust.

With a gentle twist, Zhou Ming snapped the rusted lock and opened the lid.

Inside, rows of silver ingots were neatly stacked alongside several silver banknotes.

The silver was of excellent quality, dazzlingly white.

Zhou Ming counted them carefully; the silver ingots alone amounted to over a hundred taels, and together with the banknotes, the total actually came to over a thousand taels.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, he looked at the box full of fine silver and fell silent for quite a while.

"How did Steward Zhang manage to scrape together so much silver?"

He had been working as the Kitchen steward for about a month now, and every single entry in the account books was perfectly clear.

Purchasing was managed by Chunlan, and the only perk to be skimmed was eating an extra bite or two of hot food; there wasn't even a copper coin's worth of leeway to be found.

Yet Steward Zhang had somehow managed to hoard over a thousand taels of private savings in this exact same position. That motherfucker was truly a genius.

After some thought, Zhou Ming closed the wooden box as it was, stuffed it back into the dirt pit under the cabinet, covered it with the loose soil and packed it down, then moved the cabinet back to its original position.

Money was useless to him right now. He lived and ate in the Marquis's Residence; as long as he didn't go out to fool around, try to climb the ranks, buy a house, or take concubines, there was simply nowhere for him to spend money.

The night passed without incident. The next day, after breakfast, Dongmei came to the Kitchen in person.

When she pushed the door open and walked in, a smile hung on her face—a smile like a fox that had just stolen a chicken.

"Did you really fall in yesterday?" Dongmei's very first words left Zhou Ming utterly bewildered.

"Fall into what?"

"Into the latrine pit."

Dongmei drawled out her words.

"The utility servants saw you fall in with their own eyes, and you were even pulled out by them."

"Zhou Ming, let me tell you, you can't fail to thank them for saving your life."

"Look at your spindly arms and legs. If they hadn't pulled you out, you'd probably be the very first steward in the Marquis's Residence to drown in a latrine pit in all these years."

As she spoke, Dongmei covered her mouth, her shoulders shaking with laughter.

The expression on Zhou Ming's face went through a complete evolution in a mere three seconds.

From bewilderment to disbelief, to fury, and finally to turning pale green.

He cursed inwardly: I fell into a latrine pit? How come I didn't know about it myself?

And I was pulled out by utility servants with their own hands? When on earth did I make such a fool of myself?

He opened his mouth, wanting to explain, "I didn't, it's not what you think, let me explain..."

"No need to explain. The Eldest Young Miss is waiting for you, let's go."

Dongmei waved her hand impatiently and turned to walk out.

The schadenfreude dripping from her tone was so thick it could almost be wrung out.

This was truly a case of "even jumping into the Yellow River wouldn't wash it clean."

Those two little bastards of utility servants, the two Third-class servants he had run into at the entrance of the latrine yesterday.

They must have added some spice when they went back and bragged to others.

Turning "Steward Zhou came out of the latrine covered in filth" into "Steward Zhou fell into the latrine pit and we pulled him out with our own hands."

As the rumor spread from one person to ten, and ten to a hundred, by the time it reached Dongmei's ears, the story already came with a complete beginning, middle, and end.

Damn it, once I get the chance, I'll definitely fucking kill those two.

When the fuck did I ever fall into a latrine pit?

I am a dignified Foundation Establishment Stage Cultivator, and my reputation is ruined by you two just like that?

As Zhou Ming walked, he cursed those two utility servants up and down in his mind over and over again.

Walking ahead, Dongmei looked back and saw his teeth-gritting expression, covering her mouth again as her shoulders shook even harder than before.