181: Chapter 181 Meetings and Consultations to Resolve Disputes

The morning light gently drifted across the corridor, spreading mottled light and shadows upon the bluestone floor of the Council Hall, with long, slender shadows stretching leisurely.

Chen Wuwang stood before the high platform, the light board in his hand freshly organized and still retaining the warmth of his fingertips. He wore a plain black martial outfit, the dagger at his waist remained un-sheathed, and he wore neither armor nor a jade crown, appearing like an ordinary inspector.

He wore no armor, nor did he wear the jade crown symbolizing his identity as the Head of the Chen Family; only a plain black martial outfit, with the dagger at his waist still un-sheathed, making him look exactly like an ordinary inspector—yet he knew that this meeting was not just a mere formality.

Inside the Council Hall, members of the Alliance took their seats one after another.

Footsteps were chaotic, some people whispered discussions, and when their gazes swept over, they carried scrutiny and wariness.

Several elders sat in the front row, their fingers resting on the armrests, their knuckles slightly white.

Younger representatives in the back row whispered to each other, their voices kept low, yet they could not hide the scent of gunpowder.

"Is it another meeting called by the Head of the Chen Family?" a hoarse voice rang out. "Last time, they said they would discuss the matters of the Leiyin Pavilion together, but in the end, the proposal was shelved. This time, won't it just be to listen to him announce his decisions again?"

"Who knows." Another person sneered, "Anyway, how the resources are distributed and who gets to use the mechs first, in the end, isn't it all up to him to decide?"

Before the words had even faded, Chen Wuwang raised his hand and swiped, syncing the light board data to be projected into the center of the hall. The holographic screen lit up, and the title clearly appeared: "Summary Table of Resource Flow of the Eastern Wasteland Alliance Over the Past Three Years."

Hum—

Blue light swirled, the charts expanded, and spiritual energy patterns extended like veins, showing each clan's troop deployment, number of war casualties, number of technology sharing instances, the actual proportion of resources received...

Row after row of curves were arranged side by side, clear and distinct.

The hall instantly fell silent.

Chen Wuwang scanned the crowd, his voice not loud, yet it penetrated every inch of the air: "Today is not a notification; it is a consultation. The transparency you wanted, I have given; now, please tell me, what does the fairness you want look like?"

No one responded immediately.

An old man with white hair and beard in the front row slowly stood up, his eyes as sharp as knives: "Over the past three years, our casualties ranked in the top three, yet what we received was at the bottom! Now you say you want fairness—does this mean you want us to make concessions again? Wait for us to nod, and then you will slowly make changes?"

"No." Chen Wuwang shook his head, tapped his finger lightly, and brought up a detailed breakdown chart. "I admit that there is indeed a structural deviation."

He pointed to one set of data: "Over these three years, you have deployed troops twelve times, with seventeen killed in action; the pension was paid in full, but you only received forty percent of the quota for mech parts."

"There are three reasons: first, frontline losses exceeded expectations; second, the capacity of the Artifact Refining Workshop is insufficient; and third, scheduling priorities were tilted toward border defense—I acknowledge all of these."

The old man frowned: "Then what do you acknowledge? Acknowledging your mistake? Or accepting your fate?"

"I acknowledge the responsibility." Chen Wuwang looked him straight in the eye. "Therefore, today I propose three new principles: First, quantification of contribution—all resource allocation will be based on actual military merit and manpower input, no longer scored based on impressions."

"Second, dynamic adjustment—recalculated every month based on the latest war situation; those who work more get more, and those who take on less get less."

"Third, advance public disclosure—starting from this month, all allocation lists will be made public three days in advance, and any clan can send a representative to join the verification team to supervise on-site."

He paused, his voice deepening: "Disagree? Write down your reasons, and I will answer you face-to-face. But do not collude behind my back, using the Leiyin Pavilion as a bargaining chip to force me to bow. That is not fighting for interests; it is tearing down the stage."

There was a commotion in the hall.

Some people lowered their heads to look through the records they had brought, others whispered to each other, their expressions complex.

A moment later, another middle-aged man stood up, his tone softening a bit: "You say it beautifully. But rules on paper are easy to write; what about implementation? Can you really ensure the Chen family doesn't take advantage? If one day you change your mind, we won't even have a place to speak."

"I do not ask you to believe me immediately." Chen Wuwang turned off the holographic screen, stood up, walked down the high platform step by step, and stood still in the center of the hall.

He raised his right hand, palm facing the sky, spiritual energy surging. A silver talisman seal emerged from his palm and slowly ascended—that was the heaviest oath seal in the Cultivation World, the Ten Thousand Thunder Soul-Devouring Curse.

"If I, Chen Wuwang, henceforth practice favoritism, withhold resources that should belong to the clans, or abuse my leadership authority to suppress dissent, I am willing to suffer the Ten Thousand Thunder Soul-Devouring, my spiritual platform falling forever, and my Soul Flying Away and Spirit Scattering!"

The talisman seal exploded, turning into specks of starlight that scattered across the hall.

Everyone was stunned.

That was not a fake light and shadow trick, but a vow that truly invoked the Law of Heaven and Earth; once violated, the Heavenly Tribulation would arrive immediately, and no one could save him.

The silence lasted for a full ten breaths.

Finally, a young representative in the front row spoke up, his voice not loud: "...How long will the plan be trialed?"

"Three months." Chen Wuwang answered. "After three months, if you feel it is ineffective, you can jointly remove me from this leadership position. You set the rules, and the signing power belongs to you. Now, those who are willing to try, please leave your signature."

He waved his hand, and a blank contract appeared in mid-air, with a jade signature stand attached below it.

At first, no one moved.

Some hesitated, some watched, some lowered their heads in deep thought.

Then, the old man who had questioned him first stood up with his cane and walked step by step toward the signature stand.

He pressed his fingerprint on the contract, and when he turned around, he glanced at Chen Wuwang: "I do not believe in you; I believe in the names of those brothers behind me who died in battle."

He left.

Next was the middle-aged man, who, after a moment of silence, also stepped forward to affix his seal.

One person, two people, three people...

More and more people stood up and signed one after another.

There were no cheers, no applause; only the sound of clothing brushing against the floor and the soft sound of jade seals being pressed down.

Chen Wuwang stood in place, not moving a single bit.

He watched as one name after another was placed, watching those gazes that had once been full of hostility gradually turn into scrutiny, and then to a faint glimmer of trust.

After the last person finished signing, the contract flashed with light and was automatically sealed into the base of the Alliance covenant monument.

The hall returned to silence.

The sunlight had moved to the center of the high platform, shining on half of his face, his Mechanical Prosthetic Eye gleaming with a cold light.

Alliance members left their seats one after another, their paces varied; some heavy, some slow, and some glanced back at the figure on the high platform, their gazes complex.

No one said, "We support you," nor did anyone pat his shoulder in approval.

But they had come, listened, asked, and signed.

That was enough.

Chen Wuwang still stood in the center of the Council Hall, his hands hanging by his sides, the light board lying quietly in his palm.

He knew that this turmoil was far from over.

The calls for technical supervision would not stop, the delegation from the Leiyin Pavilion was about to arrive, and eyes in the shadows were still watching.

But he also saw the direction of the wind.

Not everyone wanted to tear the Alliance apart.

They had just been treated as less than "people" for too long, living in the shadows of commands and allocations for too long, forgetting that they too could speak, and they too could make decisions.

And now, they had finally spoken.

He looked up, looking at the now-empty Council Hall.

The last figure disappeared at the doorway.

He was the only one left in the hall.

The sunlight fell upon his shoulders, like a thin layer of armor.