182: Chapter 182 The Fair Solution Gains Approval

The sunlight was shifting toward the center of the high platform in the Council Hall, spilling onto the stele base that sealed the contract and emitting a warm, jade-like glow.

The sound of footsteps in the hall was fading, but the figures had not dispersed.

Most representatives were still standing where they were, either whispering in small groups or gazing at the lingering afterimages of the holographic projection with complex expressions.

Chen Wuwang remained standing in the center of the hall, his palm supporting the light board that no longer displayed data streams, his knuckles slightly white.

He did not move, nor did he speak again.

He knew that signing was only the beginning; true recognition only counted when it was spoken aloud.

The air was heavy for a moment, eventually broken by a rough voice.

"My clan lost two Foundation Establishment Cultivators guarding the border three months ago."

A middle-aged man walked out from the back row, draped in a grey-brown spiritual-patterned cloak, with a vigorous mountain shape carved into the clan emblem on his chest—he was the representative of the Cangling Clan.

He stood diagonally in front of Chen Wuwang, raised his hand to press against the jade talisman on his chest, and after a soft humming sound, the resonance of the clan emblem spread throughout the hall:

"If not for this new system of checks and balances, the compensation would still be difficult to receive even now. Today, I am willing to trust it once—not trusting you, Chen Wuwang, but trusting this set of rules."

He paused, his gaze sweeping across the surroundings: "My Cangling Clan formally recognizes this proposal!"

As his voice fell, some looked up, some frowned, and others nodded gently.

Immediately after, a young Elder from the Xuansha Tribe stood up, his voice clear and bright: "My clan is willing to send three people to the Artifact Refining Workshop to supervise, participating in the monthly resource verification process. The authority for dispatching is transferred to the Supervisory Group, effective today."

He flipped the spiritual message Jade Slip in his hand, calling up the account records from the past three years on the spot, and after comparing them item by item, he said loudly:

"The winter defense damage supplies last year were delayed by forty-seven days; this time, I want to watch with my own eyes to ensure they are distributed on time."

"We at Chiji Ridge will also send people!" A voice came from another corner, belonging to a young female Cultivator with lingering anger on her face;

"Not for anything else, just for that kid who died in battle last month—he was only seventeen, and he hadn't even received a pair of bracers before he was sent to the front line. Now you say you want to publicize the list, fine, I'll take a look!"

One person took the lead, and the others followed.

The originally cold and rigid contract was gradually warmed by words as each statement was made.

Some took out their personal jade registers to register their assigned personnel, some gathered to discuss the supervisory duty roster, and an old man leaning on a cane paced to Chen Wuwang's side, whispering:

"Your Chen family controls the Spiritual Veins, mechs, and Artifact Refining... in the end, you still hold the lion's share. Fair? It sounds comfortable, but it's hard to put into practice."

Chen Wuwang slowly raised his head, his Mechanical Prosthetic Eye turning slightly, reflecting the old yet sharp face of the other person.

He did not refute, but simply waved his hand.

The light screen lit up again, no longer displaying cold data streams, but a "Three-Year Development Plan for the Alliance."

The main Spiritual Vein of the Eastern Wasteland wound like a Dragon, clearly marked: the revenue was divided into three parts—one part into the Alliance combat readiness fund, dedicated to border defense and compensation for the wounded; one part into the inter-clan technology sharing pool, for all clans to extract Materials for research and development; and only one part for the Chen family's infrastructure, with the usage details to be made public annually.

"The Spiritual Veins are coordinated by me, but I will not take away a single grain of ore," Chen Wuwang's voice was not loud, but every word hit home. "Every cart of resources transported out will have a three-party signed record. If you don't trust me, you can trust your own people—each clan can send one mine supervisor, rotating shifts twenty-four hours a day."

The hall was silent for a moment.

Then someone exclaimed: "Even the core mining tunnels are open for inspection?"

"Not just that," Chen Wuwang pointed to a newly built landmark on the map. "The Joint Research and Development Center will start construction this month. In the future, all new mech blueprints will implement a 'Contribution Unlock System'—whoever contributes personnel and effort will be able to unlock the manufacturing rights for the corresponding modules. The Chen family will no longer exclusively enjoy core technology."

"What does that mean?" someone asked.

"It means," Chen Wuwang looked directly at the whole room, "for the next batch of po xu type-2 mechs, whichever clan is willing to undertake border patrol missions for thirty days will be eligible for pilot training; if you can participate in actual combat escort missions more than three times, you can apply for assembly authorization. The blueprints won't be given away for free, but they won't be hidden either."

An uproar broke out.

An old man with white hair and beard stood up tremblingly, pointing his finger at the four characters "Contribution Unlock," his voice shaking: "Are you saying... we can also build mechs?"

"It is not 'also can'," Chen Wuwang shook his head. "It is 'as it should be.' The Eastern Wasteland is not the land of the Chen family alone; it is a path to survival that everyone has fought for with their lives. Whoever sheds blood has the right to hold the hilt of the blade."

He said this, his tone softening slightly: "I know what you are afraid of. Afraid that you will nod today and change your mind tomorrow; afraid of superficial concessions while being effectively sidelined in reality. So I swear, and I have also embedded nails into the system—the Supervisory Group has the right to stop any project at any time and question any expenditure. Even if it is an order I issued, as long as the procedure is not compliant, it must be stopped."

The crowd fell completely silent.

Some lowered their heads to look through the notebooks they had brought, some exchanged glances, and others silently took off the tokens representing their identity from their waists and placed them beside the signing stand to show their sincerity.

At this moment, a younger face pushed out from the back row.

He was a Cultivator in his early twenties, wearing a simple cloth robe, not looking like someone from a major clan.

He walked up to Chen Wuwang and bowed with his fists, his movements a bit awkward but extremely serious.

"Clan Head... no, Senior Chen." His voice was not loud, but it carried very far. "My father died in the insect tide three months ago. At that time, he was covering the rear at the North Pass, and by the end of the battle, he only had half an arm left. But when we went to collect his belongings, we didn't even see a decent piece of damaged armor. The clan said the quota was insufficient and gave priority to the children of major clans."

He paused, his Adam's apple bobbing: "Seeing you set this rule today, I thank you on his behalf—in this world, finally, someone treats us like human beings."

After speaking, he stepped back two paces, his eyes slightly red, and said nothing more.

Chen Wuwang stood where he was, his Mechanical Prosthetic Eye trembling slightly, as if an electric current was tapping inside.

He had not expected this sentence to sting so deeply.

For a long time, he slowly raised his hand and pressed it against his chest, his voice low but clear: "Your willingness to speak is the greatest support. I do not ask for gratitude, only to stand shoulder to shoulder."

He looked around the hall, his gaze sweeping over each face—those who had doubted, those who had resisted, and those who had silently watched.

Now these people were standing and not leaving, still discussing details, still making demands, and still fighting for their own share.

That was enough.

The corners of his mouth finally twitched, revealing a faint smile, like a glimmer of light through a glacier crevice, brief but real.

"Are there any other questions?" he asked.

Someone immediately raised their hand: "The southern section works have always been defended by our Sand Clan, but the Materials have been slow to arrive. Can we prioritize allocation this time?"

"Yes," Chen Wuwang answered crisply. "And I propose that you take the lead in rebuilding the southern defense line. Double subsidies for manpower and Materials, with the Supervisory Group following up throughout the process."

Another person asked: "Is the source of funds for the technology sharing pool stable? In case the Chen family is short of money one month, will you misappropriate it first?"

"No," Chen Wuwang shook his head. "The funds are accounted for independently and automatically allocated at the beginning of each month. If the Chen family is in arrears, the Supervisory Group can directly freeze three of our clan's core resource quotas until the shortfall is made up."

"Then..." another voice hesitated, "what if we want to learn mech piloting? Can ordinary clan members sign up?"

"Of course," Chen Wuwang nodded. "Training classes will start early next month, with no restrictions on background, only on assessment results. The first batch has 120 spots, with recommendation rights distributed according to the population proportion of each clan, and the final decision on who stays will be determined by actual combat tests."

As his voice fell, the discussions grew louder.

Some excitedly patted their companions on the shoulder, some quickly wrote down key points, and an old man who looked like an Elder muttered: "So... it really can be different."

Chen Wuwang did not speak again, just stood quietly, listening to these voices interwoven together.

No longer questioning, no longer hostility, but real, concrete discussion, debate, and anticipation.

The sunlight spilled down, covering him in an invisible thin armor.

Inside the Council Hall, most of the Alliance members had not yet left their seats.

Some representatives had gathered in one place, drawing up the assignment list; some took out their spiritual message Jade Slips to check past accounts; others were circling supervisory routes on the blueprints, arguing about who should take which position.

The group was still in a gathered state, and the atmosphere was tending toward pragmatic collaboration.

Chen Wuwang stood in the hall, his feet unmoved, his expression shifting from stern to slightly relaxed, and a long-lost warmth flashed in his eyes.

He was prepared to listen to suggestions on implementation details, waiting for the next person to speak.