8mi Chapter 11 The Master Has OCD
Chapter 11 The Master Has OCD
It was evening.
This is also the most beautiful time in the wilderness, when the setting sun bathes the grass in an orange glow.
The snow-capped mountains shimmered with gold, their outlines becoming even clearer in the twilight, and even the cold wind carried a hint of languor.
The wall has been built up to ankle height, and the overall framework is complete. The progress is quite impressive.
At Richard's signal, Carl's voice carried through the evening glow.
"Today's work is finished, we can stop and rest now!"
He wasn't so deranged as to demand work even at night, after all, these serfs weren't in good physical condition and couldn't withstand high-intensity work.
Furthermore.
It was pitch black at night, and even with a campfire for lighting, visibility was still poor.
Moreover, most serfs suffered from mild to moderate night blindness due to malnutrition.
If you don't want the wall to lean towards the river, then forget it...
...
Upon hearing the order to stop work, the serfs finished stacking the broken stones in their hands and collapsed to the ground, panting heavily.
Sweat soaked through his linen clothes, clinging tightly to his thin back, yet his face beamed with an undisguised smile.
The previous hour.
The captain of the guards has already hinted that the master is very satisfied with their performance.
There was still beef as an extra dish in the evening, which filled everyone with anticipation.
But this joy didn't last long; Karl's next words instantly froze everyone's smiles.
"Listen up, everyone!"
"The lord says that from now on, everyone must bathe and wash after work each day; those who are unclean are not allowed to eat!"
The words fell.
The serfs stared in disbelief, their eyes all fixed on Karl.
The air in the North is extremely dry, so much so that not only serfs, but even many nobles only take a bath once every ten days or so.
For them, bathing is more like a luxurious ritual reserved for holidays.
Now the master demands that we wash every day, which is even more perplexing than making them do more work.
A young serf, who appeared to have white buttocks, hesitated before raising his hand, his voice tinged with timidity.
"Guardian..."
"Are we going to wash in the river?"
Everyone had just finished working and their bodies were still warm, while part of the river water was melted snow from the mountains.
It was icy cold.
Let alone soaking in the water for a while, even just wiping your body with cold water would probably make you feel unbearably cold.
In case you catch a cold.
In this desolate wasteland lacking medical care and medicine, and without priests from the Church of Light, death was practically inevitable.
Karl was slightly taken aback.
He clearly hadn't considered this issue, since he used to wash his clothes once a month.
They haven't even dug a bathhouse yet...
Although the lord's will had to be carried out, the serfs could not be allowed to die in vain. Just as he hesitated...
"Karl".
Richard, who was sitting in front of the stew pot cooking his dinner, spoke up.
He glanced up at the serfs, whose faces were full of conflict, and spoke with a hint of impatience.
He said softly:
"We boiled water in a large stew pot used for cooking rice, and then went out in batches to wash the food outside the wall."
"The man is near the camp. The woman should be transported to the edge of the Black Pine Forest. Irving should keep watch from a distance to prevent any mishaps."
Karl nodded quickly.
He turned around and loudly conveyed the lord's new order.
He added a harsh remark at the end:
"Everyone, get yourself clean! If I find anyone with poop on their butt, I'll hang them outside the wall to freeze overnight, so the wolves can hear their howls!"
In an era when people only used thin, dry twigs and leaves to wipe their bottoms, it was perfectly normal for their bottoms to have some mosaic-like stains, especially for these slovenly serfs.
...
The serfs breathed a sigh of relief.
A smile returned to her face, and her eyes were full of gratitude as she looked at Richard.
In the past, lords only cared about the harvest from the farmland; who cared whether the farmland was clean or not?
Only this kind-hearted old man was willing to waste firewood to heat water for them to bathe.
And it happens every single day!
This is absolutely unprecedented treatment!
Two serfs, wanting to emulate Karl, mustered their courage and stepped forward, hoping to say a few flattering words to their master.
But after taking only a few steps, he was stopped by the lord's disdainful gaze. He was pinching his nose, his brows furrowed so deeply they could trap a fly.
"Go! Go! Go!"
"Don't come within ten steps of me if you haven't showered!"
The two serfs looked at each other, embarrassed, and retreated.
They were already used to the sour smell that permeated their clothes, but they never expected that the lord would care so much.
After most of the day's work.
The mixture of sweat, mud, and the musty smell left on the clothes was truly disgusting.
Richard reluctantly released his grip on his nose only after the two of them had left.
He suddenly realized...
The horse meat broth was simmering in a special slow cooker, and even without lemon slices, it had a slightly sour smell...
Shit!
Let Carl and his team take the blame!
...
He certainly didn't demand that the serfs bathe every day simply because he was a germaphobe.
He had learned in his previous life that, in ancient times, besides war and famine, plague was the most terrifying cause of death.
Once the plague spreads.
That guy...
Descriptions like "nine out of ten houses are empty," "the land is barren for miles," and "drought demons roam freely" are chilling to hear.
In particular, this world also has the Black Death, a disease that strikes fear into the hearts of many.
It seems that the infection rate is even more exaggerated due to the low magic environment.
Although the priests of the Holy See can use healing magic to treat the infection, it is far from enough to deal with a large-scale outbreak.
He didn't want his hard-earned territory to be wiped out by the plague, so he set the rule of taking a bath every day.
As for drinking boiled water and the toilet, we'll teach you about those tomorrow.
Speaking of which...
Do Northerners really dislike taking baths?
...
Following Karl's instructions, several large stew pots were placed over the campfire, and white steam rose in wisps as dusk fell.
Escorted by Da Yun, the female serfs carried wooden buckets filled with hot water to the edge of the black pine forest.
The male serfs washed themselves on the open ground near the camp, their rough skin reddened from the heat, yet they all wore expressions of comfort.
Nothing feels better than taking a shower after a hard day's work, when you're covered in sweat.
The hot water washed away the grime on my body, and also washed away the fatigue and bitterness of the past few days.
After bathing, the male slaves did not immediately return to their quarters. They only had one linen garment, which they had to wash and dry over a fire before they could wear it.
They sat naked by the fire, chatting amongst themselves, their eyes all turning to Wade.
He had a piece of smoked meat hanging from his neck with a hemp rope, like a necklace.
"have a look!"
Wade deliberately puffed out his chest, winked at everyone, and said with a smile:
"This was a gift from the lord, and he even praised me for doing a good job!"
"We know, we all saw that this was the reward you traded for honey!"
A young serf stamped his feet in frustration and shouted at Wade:
"You slick butt that even bees can't sting, tell me quickly, why is the master giving you extra work points?"
These words were spoken.
The other serfs immediately chimed in, crowding around and chattering amongst themselves.
"Yeah, Wade, didn't the master say that everyone would get work points for completing the assigned tasks? Why are you getting extra?"