If you die, I will be able to inherit your cultivation.

Zhou Ming went to the yard outside the back door of the kitchen. The well was empty except for a tabby cat squatting on the edge of the well, licking its paws.

The handyman who usually carried water was carrying two carrying poles of water and walking towards the door.

Seeing Zhou Ming stride in, before he could even greet him, the steward had already begun unbuttoning his coat.

The servant paused for a moment, then turned around and walked out of the courtyard with great decisiveness, closing the gate behind him.

Zhou Ming quickly stripped himself naked, drew several buckets of ice-cold well water, and poured it over his head.

The well water splashed onto his skin, making him shiver, but the coolness was a lifesaver compared to the stickiness left on his skin.

The black mud seeping from his pores was washed off by the well water, forming light gray streams on the ground that flowed into the drainage ditch through the cracks in the stone slabs.

He rinsed himself with several buckets of water until he was completely free of any stickiness before letting out a long sigh of relief.

After washing, my whole body felt clean and refreshed, my skin was smooth and clear, and every muscle felt incredibly translucent.

It was a feeling I had never experienced before, like having just recovered from a long, bad cold, or like taking off a suit of armor that I hadn't washed in over a decade.

He washed his dirty clothes with the well water, and then put the wet clothes back on.

He took two cornbread buns from the kitchen and put them in his pocket. Without waiting for Liu Sandao to invite him to dinner, he went straight to his residence.

Back inside, Zhou Ming bolted the door shut and sat cross-legged on the bed.

The heat flow in my dantian continued to surge in, but the way it flowed in had changed.

Instead of hundreds or thousands pouring in at once, it returned to its original state, with one stream coming in every now and then, slowly and steadily, without end.

However, for the steady twelve-inch platform in his dantian, these warm currents were no longer considered an impact.

As soon as each warm current appears at the edge of the dantian, it is automatically drawn to the Dao Platform, like a trickle flowing into a deep pool, without even a splash.

Zhou Ming focused his consciousness on the space between his eyebrows and concentrated on examining the causal network.

The once overwhelming and dense network of cause and effect, which triggered his trypophobia, has become sparse again.

Vast areas of emptiness appeared, and the number of gaps was even more alarming than before.

Zhou Ming looked at the sparse network of cause and effect, remained silent for a moment, and silently calculated a rough number in his mind.

Based on the density and distribution of the broken causal chains, the death toll in this incident is conservatively estimated to be in the tens of thousands.

He can be 100% certain of one thing:

War broke out.

The kind of thing that could kill tens of thousands of cultivators at once could not be a feud between martial arts masters, a power struggle between aristocratic families, or the confiscation of property and extermination of clans.

The only thing in this world that can cause this level of depletion is war.

Moreover, a war of this scale must be taking place outside of his current information network.

After thinking for a while, he put those thoughts out of his mind.

No matter where the war takes place, who is fighting whom, or whose people are dying, these are not things he can interfere with right now.

The most useful thing he can do now is to take care of himself and keep his life.

Zhou Ming refocused his attention and began to try to release his divine sense.

The feeling of releasing one's divine sense for the first time was extremely wondrous.

His gaze was still fixed on the opposite wall, but his consciousness had already "seen" every corner of the room.

On the table, a small ring of leftover herbal tea from the morning remained at the bottom of the teacup.

The smooth mark on the latch, worn down from being pushed countless times.

The cracks in the brickwork beneath the bed where he hid his silver were clearly visible, with the bits of soil filling the cracks around each brick.

Within the range of his divine sense, no tiny object could escape his perception.

Zhou Ming closed his eyes and used his divine sense to scan the room inch by inch.

While scanning, I suddenly discovered something I had never known before.

A wooden box was buried in the soil under the cabinet.

The box was buried between broken bricks and rammed earth, covered with a thin layer of loose soil, so that it was completely invisible from the surface.

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

The wooden box was small but heavy, and the iron lock was rusted.

Zhou Ming easily broke the rusty lock with a gentle twist and opened the box lid.

Inside, there were neatly stacked ingots of silver, as well as some silver notes.

The silver was of extremely high quality, so white it was dazzling.

Zhou Ming counted them carefully; there were over a hundred taels of silver in cash alone, and with the silver notes, the total came to over a thousand taels.

He sat on the edge of the bed, looking at the box full of snowflake silver, and remained silent for a long time.

"How did this steward manage to amass so much silver?"

He had been in the position of kitchen manager for over a month, and every entry in the accounts was perfectly accurate.

The purchasing was managed by the head maid Chunlan. The only way to make a profit was to eat a few more hot meals; there wasn't even a penny to be found.

But Manager Zhang managed to save up over a thousand taels of his own money in the same position; he's really something else.

After thinking for a moment, Zhou Ming closed the wooden box back into place, stuffed it back into the mud pit under the cabinet, covered it with loose soil and tamped it down, and then moved the cabinet back to its original position.

He has no use for money now. He eats and lives in the Marquis's mansion. As long as he doesn't go out and have fun, doesn't try to climb the social ladder, doesn't buy a house, and doesn't take a concubine, he has nowhere to spend money.

Nothing happened that night. The next day, after breakfast, Dongmei came to the kitchen herself.

When she pushed the door open, she had a smile on her face, a smile like that of a fox that had stolen a chicken.

"You really fell in yesterday?" Dongmei's first words stunned Zhou Ming.

"What fell in?"

"You fell into the latrine."

Dongmei's voice was drawn out.

"The handymen saw you fall in with their own eyes, and they were the ones who pulled you out."

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

"Look at your skinny arms and legs, if no one had pulled you out, you would probably be the first steward in the Marquis's mansion to fall into the latrine and drown in all these years."

As she spoke, Dongmei covered her mouth, her shoulders shaking as she began to laugh.

Zhou Ming's facial expression underwent a complete transformation within just three seconds.

From bewilderment to disbelief, to rage, and finally to ashen-faced.

He cursed inwardly: How come I didn't know I fell into the latrine?

And I was even dragged up here by the handyman. When have I ever made such a fool of myself?

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

"Don't explain anymore, the young lady is still waiting for you, let's go."

Dongmei waved her hand impatiently and turned to walk out.

The schadenfreude in his tone was so palpable it was almost palpable.

This is a mess, even if you jump into the Yellow River, you can't clear your name.

Those two bastard servants were the two third-class servants I ran into at the outhouse door yesterday.

They must have embellished the story when they went back and bragged to others.

The story of "Manager Zhou emerging from the outhouse covered in filth" was rearranged into "Manager Zhou fell into the latrine and we pulled him out ourselves."

The story spread like wildfire, and by the time it reached Dongmei's ears, it already contained the complete beginning, middle, and end.

Damn it, when I find a chance, I'll definitely kill you two.

When the hell did I fall into a latrine?

My reputation as a Foundation Establishment cultivator has been ruined by the two of you?

As Zhou Ming walked, he cursed the two servants repeatedly in his mind.

Dongmei walked ahead and turned around. When she saw his gritted teeth expression, she covered her mouth again, her shoulders shaking even more violently than before.