Chapter 21: Xu Damao, the God of War of the Restroom

It is often said that Xu Damao is truly malicious.

As a film projectionist, he actually had little to do at the factory aside from traveling to the countryside to show movies. Consequently, he spent almost the entire morning loitering by the public restroom, drinking water and visiting the stalls six times in a single morning.

"Xu Damao, you son of a bitch, you're pissing outside the bowl again!" Shazhu and Jia Dongxu shouted in exasperation.

"So what if I am? You two are here to handle it, aren't you?" Xu Damao replied with utter indifference.

"If you piss outside again, I swear I'll beat you to death, you hear me?" Shazhu threatened.

"Go ahead and try," Xu Damao retorted, tilting his head back. "You’re already under disciplinary probation. You really want to get caught fighting in the factory and end up cleaning toilets for the rest of your life?"

"You..."

Shazhu was so angry he nearly choked, but he didn't dare make a move. The two of them were currently under strict surveillance by the Security Department.

"Your grandfather needs to take a dump now, so get lost."

Xu Damao dropped his pants and squatted over the pit, deliberately splashing waste everywhere. Shazhu and Jia Dongxu exchanged a glance, seemingly reaching a silent understanding.

"Hey, what's that on the ceiling?" Jia Dongxu yelled.

"What?" Xu Damao looked up.

Without a word, Shazhu shoved Xu Damao, sending him tumbling headlong into the septic pit. Public restrooms back then were not the concrete flush-toilet structures of later years; they were semi-wooden constructions where two planks sat directly over the septic tank.

Xu Damao fell in waist-deep, sliding further down into the muck.

"Oh no! Someone fell into the latrine!" Shazhu’s shrill, grating voice rang out.

"Oh my god, someone fell in!"
"Quick, go get Dr. Lin!"
"Everyone, come help!"

Word spread like wildfire, and within minutes, hundreds of people had gathered outside the restroom. Lin Shaowen, having received the alert, rushed over. Drowning in a septic tank was no laughing matter; some people, overwhelmed by the shock and the toxic fumes, could fall unconscious. Furthermore, the waste was thick and solid; if it entered the nasal passages or windpipe, it could easily prove fatal.

By the time Lin Shaowen arrived, Xu Damao was struggling in the tank. Someone had thrown a hemp rope down, looped it around his waist, and seven or eight men were pulling with all their might. When they finally hauled him out, the pungent, overwhelming stench forced Lin Shaowen to take a step back. It was shockingly thick—a testament to the state of things in that era.

"Ugh!" Someone nearby couldn't handle the sensory assault and immediately began to retch. Many of the female workers ran far away before they dared to breathe again.

"Brother Xu, what happened to you?" Lin Shaowen asked, pinching his nose.

"Yeah, Damao, how could you be so unsteady on your feet? Must have been up to no good last night, eh?" Shazhu remarked, twisting the knife.

"Shazhu, you shouldn't talk like that. Damao isn't even married yet," Jia Dongxu added with a straight face.

"That's true, but why would his legs be so weak?"

With Shazhu and Jia Dongxu trading barbs, the surrounding workers began to point and jeer. Some were gloating, others were mocking, but not a single person felt sympathy for him. After all, anyone falling into a latrine would be seen as nothing more than a spectacle.

Lin Shaowen, possessing keen observational skills, noticed that Xu Damao wasn't just shaking—his eyes were bloodshot. This looked like the precursor to a psychotic break. Without hesitation, he backed away a considerable distance.

"Shazhu, I'm going to kill you!"

Sure enough, following Xu Damao's roar, a wave of filth was hurled directly at Shazhu and Jia Dongxu. Not only did Xu Damao grab them, but he also began scooping up the muck from his own body and shoving it into their mouths.

"Holy shit!" Even Lin Shaowen, whose mental fortitude was quite strong, couldn't help but gag.

Shazhu and Jia Dongxu naturally refused to take it lying down, and the three of them began to brawl. But Xu Damao was currently powered by a "buff" of pure rage; even the "God of War of the Courtyard," Shazhu, was focused only on fleeing rather than fighting. As for Jia Dongxu, that weakling had already collapsed on the ground, vomiting uncontrollably.

During the scuffle, the "debris" on Xu Damao flew everywhere, coating the faces of several nearby workers.

"Ahhh!" A worker screamed in agony.

Shazhu fought back while retching, desperately trying to maintain his dignity, but Xu Damao had transformed into the "God of War of the Latrine," using the filth clinging to his body as his primary weapon.

"Ugh!" The female onlookers in the distance were pale with horror, unable to stop themselves from heaving.

The battle lasted for fifteen minutes before the Security Department arrived with a fire hose, spraying the three of them down to end the chaos. Even after it was over, Shazhu and Jia Dongxu wept with indignation. The factory was soon abuzz with the rumor that "Shazhu and Jia Dongxu were fed excrement by Xu Damao."

The three men gave conflicting accounts to the Security Department. Xu Damao insisted Shazhu pushed him, while Jia Dongxu swore to the contrary. In the end, the security team, too disgusted to deal with them, gave them a harsh reprimand and sent them on their way.

When Lin Shaowen returned to the medical office, he felt as though he might collapse from the sheer nausea of it all. The scene had been far too intense.

By noon, many in the factory had lost their appetites, and for once, there was leftover food in the first canteen. Lin Shaowen had no appetite either; he drank a coconut, which made him feel slightly better, though only marginally.

Just then, someone pushed open the door.

"Director Wang, what brings you here?" Lin Shaowen asked, surprised to see his visitor.

Wang Kuirong was the director of the rolling mill's canteens. Though he was just a canteen director, the mill had ten canteens and nine deputy directors. Wang, in addition to overseeing all canteen operations, directly managed the first canteen. He kept a low profile, but he was a man of significant power.

"I heard you were a doctor of exceptional skill," Wang Kuirong said with a flattering smile, pulling a stack of ration coupons from his pocket and sliding them over discreetly. Ever since Factory Director Yang had given him a sewing machine ticket, these leaders seemed to think they had to bring gifts when seeking medical treatment, as if they would lose face otherwise.

Lin Shaowen didn't even bother checking his pulse before sighing. "Director Wang, you aren't young anymore. You really need to... show some restraint regarding your bedroom activities."

Wang’s face was sallow, his eye sockets were sunken, and his dark circles rivaled those of a panda. He was sweating profusely after just walking a few steps—if that wasn't signs of excess, what was?

Wang Kuirong was shocked, but then he gave a bitter laugh. "Dr. Lin, to tell you the truth, I have no interest in women anymore."

"Then why are you..."

"I have a tigress at home," Wang sighed, revealing his plight. He had attained his position through the support of his father-in-law. Although the old man had since retired, his influence remained, and Wang dared not offend the "tigress" in his home.

Lin Shaowen pondered for a moment before saying, "I have two plans. The first... can restore your former vigor."

"The first! I choose the first!" Wang said eagerly.

"The second," Lin continued, "can make your tigress indifferent to such desires."

Lin Shaowen’s lips moved, but he ultimately didn't finish the thought. To be honest, Wang Kuirong’s hair was already graying. Living a life of luxury, he clearly had underlying health issues. If he were to truly "restore his vigor," it would likely shorten his lifespan. Human physical capacity is limited; every bit of over-expenditure is a loss. He might have lived to ninety, but after such excessive depletion, he might not even reach seventy. This was the principle of "The Cycles of Heaven" from the *Qingnang Book*.