Nightwatcher

# 344. Brushing Chamberpots

Mid-spring. The warm breeze warmed the body, and the river teemed with a myriad vessels.

Xu Qi’an stood on the deck, gazing out at the slow procession of barge boats, official ships, and multi-decked pleasure boats. The sails bulged to their limits, filled with the steady wind, suddenly giving him deja-vu of the winter past.

At that time, the biting winds off the river felt like blades on his face. But now, the spring sun beamed brightly, and just off the shore, flocks of wild ducks dotted the scene, plump enough to make one’s mouth water.

_Too far away; my qi can’t capture them..._ Xu Qi’an sighed with disappointment. _The martial path is truly a low-tier system. A sixth-rank like me can’t even fly._

Even using light-foot techniques, walking on water remained out of reach without floating supports. Perhaps at fifth-rank, when he mastered the art of Transforming Force, he could finally skim over water with his feet.

*Without Song Tingfeng and Zhu Guangxiao around, this journey is dull beyond measure,* he lamented.

Just as this thought crossed his mind, his peripheral vision caught sight of a familiar figure stepping onto the deck.

She looked about thirty to thirty-five, her features plain, and wore a navy-blue dress in the style of a maid, but her demeanour carried a haughty air. Her lips curled into a faint smile, as if savouring the balmy river breeze.

The two recognised each other at nearly the same moment, and the woman’s expression instantly darkened.

"Auntie, what are you doing here?" Xu Qi’an asked, his disbelief evident.

*Auntie…* the woman’s face twitched slightly, as she coldly snorted: “Destiny makes enemies meet.”

_I should’ve expected this. His reputation as a peerless investigator made him the obvious choice for the Blood runs three thousand miles case_.

She had learned from Chu Xianglong that for secrecy and security, they would travel north under the guise of joining the investigation mission for the “Blood runs three thousand li” case. She’d heard of the case but had been too vexed at the time to inquire about the lead investigator.

"Auntie, how could you end up here?" Xu Qi’an pressed.

"What does it matter to you?" she snapped, her expression icy. "And stop calling me Auntie! Who’s your superior? Who’s in charge of this mission? Call me that one more time, and I’ll have you disciplined!"

"Auntie, Auntie, Auntie, Auntie…" Xu Qi’an rattled off.

The woman’s fury flared. Her chest heaved as she glared daggers at him. "You just wait," she hissed, storming off in a huff.

…

The Jiaofangsi, Reflecting Plum Pavilion.

Fuxiang slept well past mid-morning, rising only when the sun was high. Draped in a sheer robe, she allowed her maid to assist with her bath and grooming.

The maid chuckled. “Is Sir Xu heading out of the capital again?”

Startled, Fuxiang tilted her head. “How do you know?”

The maid stifled a laugh. “Last night, the bed swayed until the third watch. Sir Xu is usually much gentler; it’s obvious he’s bracing for a long journey.”

“Impudent girl!” Fuxiang scolded, blushing. “You’re getting bolder by the day, daring to tease your mistress.”

The two shared a laugh, but then the maid gasped, her face contorting into a mix of shock and unease. “Mistress... you have a white hair!”

Fuxiang’s smile faded. Her voice turned calm and composed. “Just pluck it out. There’s no need to make a fuss.”

After dressing and dismissing the maid, Fuxiang sat alone before the mirror, her delicate features reflected in the polished glass. She gazed at herself for a long time, her expression unreadable.

…

*Crash!*

The woman in the maid’s attire barged into Chu Xianglong’s quarters, her hands on her hips. "Someone from the Nightwatchers angered me!" she declared.

Seated cross-legged, Chu Xianglong opened his eyes. "Who was it?"

She then feigned calmness, her words measured and deliberate. "Silver Gong Xu Qi’an."

She had been bullied by Xu Qi’an multiple times. Though the debt of the gold coins had been repaid, the memory of him taking liberties whilst spectating the Monk Jingsi fighting on the arena still irked her. Now, as though emboldened by habit, he dared to call her “Auntie” to her face.

Chu Xianglong frowned. "What did he do?"

"He insulted me," she replied coolly. Despite her maid’s garb and unassuming face, her noble demeanour shone through. "Don’t go too far; it’s nothing major. Just have him be punished a little."

She paused, observing his lack of response. Her tone turned frosty. "Even in the Northern Marches, I am still the Process consort."

Chu Xianglong shook his head. “You misunderstand, Process consort. That kid... he’s the lead official for this mission.”

The Process consort’s mouth fell open slightly, her expression briefly stunned.

"But don’t worry," Chu Xianglong continued, his tone steady. "His moment of glory won’t last. Even if the emperor himself appointed him, he’s still just a Silver Gong. Event with a viscount’s title, he’s still a nobody.”

As the Zhenbei King’s trusted deputy, Chu Xianglong cared little for ordinary nobles or officials. To him, Xu Qi’an was merely a minor obstacle.

…

Three days passed in a flash. The water journey was relatively smooth, as large official ships like these rarely encountered river pirates. Their size and elegance made it clear they carried figures of significant status. Such dignitaries were typically accompanied by experts and elite guards, making them an unappealing target. Ordinary river pirates preferred to prey on small merchant vessels or occasionally attack less imposing government ferries.

However, one thing troubled Xu Qi’an. With the abundant spring rains, the river was turbulent and far from the tranquil waters of winter. Strong winds frequently brought waves crashing against the ship.

For those staying in cabins, this was uncomfortable but manageable. But for the Imperial Guards stationed in the ship's hold, the situation was dire. Several had already fallen ill.

After lunch that day, as Xu Qi’an sat cross-legged in his cabin meditating, there was a knock at the door.

Hearing the approaching footsteps, Xu Qi’an opened his eyes and frowned. “Come in.”

The door, unlocked, swung open easily, and a stocky man stepped in. He lowered his head and cupped his fists in salute. “Sir.”

The visitor was Chen Xiao, a burly but compact man and the Centurion leading the Imperial Guards on this journey.

“What is it?” Xu Qi’an asked impatiently, displeased at having his practice interrupted by this boorish soldier.

“My lord, several soldiers have fallen ill. Please may you pay them a visit.” Chen Xiao spoke quickly, and fearing rejection, added, “I worry it might lead to an outbreak, endangering the Sirs on board.”

This concern caught Xu Qi’an’s attention. He rose, donned his boots, and followed Chen Xiao to the ship's hold.

…

Descending the wooden stairs, Xu was immediately assailed by a stifling stench—a mix of sweat, mildew, and ammonia…

This was because the hold was poorly ventilated, yet still packed with people, living, eating, and relieving themselves in tight quarters. Thus this place teemed with bacteria, and add sea-sickness on top… those of weaker constitution would easily fall ill.

Those who were not sick appeared lethargic.

At the sound of footsteps, many turned to look. Upon recognizing their superior and the mission’s lead official, the soldiers straightened their backs and fell silent.

Xu Qi’an approached the bunk of a soldier who was coughing incessantly, his forehead warm with fever. The so-called "bunk" was nothing more than a narrow wooden plank, as space was limited.

“No serious issues,” Xu Qi’an declared after some observation. “I have some antidote pills from the Sitianjian. Dissolve one in water, and have each sick soldier take a sip. That will cure them.”

Reaching into his pocket, Xu Qi’an lightly tapped the surface of his jade mirror, and a porcelain vial emerged.

After dripping blood and assuming control of the earth book, a mysterious connection was established between owner and artefact, allowing him to retrieve items at will without worry of spilling all its contents.

Handing a pill to Chen Xiao, Xu instructed him to grind it into powder and mix it into a water pouch, which was then distributed among the ill soldiers.

The Sitianjian’s high-grade medicine worked swiftly. The soldiers, to their astonishment, found their lungs no longer heavy, their coughs eased, and their minds clearing from feverish haze. Though still somewhat weak, they felt profoundly revitalized.

“I feel fine now…”

“That’s much better…”

“Thank you, sir! Thank you, sir!” Gratitude and newfound energy shone in their eyes as they looked at Xu Qi’an.

Xu Qi’an nodded slightly and cast a critical eye toward the chamber pot beneath one bunk. His expression darkened, as he barked:

“And why are all of you cooped up down here? Why not go above deck for fresh air? In this miasma, it’s a wonder you’re not all sick!”

A hundred men, a hundred toilets, clearly seldom cleaned. This was akin to living inside the outhouse; the air was already stagnant, and spring was prime time for germs and viruses, how could they not fall ill?

“Em…”

Faced with Xu Qi’an’s question, Chen Xiao made a bitter face: “General Chu has orders, forbidding us from leaving the hold and going above decks. The brothers usually eat dry rations here in the hold.”

Hearing this, Xu Qi’an’s face darkened more, staring at Chen Xiao: “Why so?”

“General Chu said that there are women on board, who often walk the deck to admire the scenery. He’s afraid we’ll scare the women. Any violators are met with twenty lashes.” a sickly soldier nearby spoke up between coughs.

Xu Qi’an did not respond, as his gaze swept again through the dim hold, over each of the solders at attention, and the chamber-pots by their feet.

The damp, foul smell in the air seemed to thicken hundredfold, making Xu Qi’an want to escape this place at once.

Yet these solders had to sleep here, to rest here, and even to eat here.

Chen Xiao stared at him silently.

A hundred pairs of eyes stared at him silently.

Xu Qi’an suddenly understood. This visit wasn’t just about illness. It was a plea for justice.

These men had endured the squalor and humiliation, trusting him to advocate on their behalf. As the mission’s lead official, appointed by imperial decree, he was their only hope.

If even he dismissed their plight, what hope remained?

Xu Qi’an’s expression tightened. “I have only one order.”

Chen Xiao straightened. “We await your command, Sir.”

The soldiers stood, backs straight, fists cupped, awaiting his judgment.

Xu pointed upward towards the deck. “Get the fuck up there, and wash out your chamber pots!”

“Yes, my lord!”

“Thank you, my lord! Thank you, my lord!”

Cheers erupted. Soldiers leapt to their feet, rushing to grab their pots.

“Go go go, let’s clean out these chamber pots! I can’t stand this stench any more!”